Gwen turned slowly, her hand moving to the concealed blade at her hip with practiced ease.
The sound had stopped the moment she'd frozen, which told her everything she needed to know. Whatever was following her was intelligent enough to recognize when its prey had become alert.
She resumed walking, keeping her pace casual but purposeful. Behind her, the wet dragging sound started again, maintaining the same distance. Staying in the shadows between streetlights, using parked cars and building alcoves for cover.
This was predator stalking behavior.
Her fingers found the grip of the small combat knife she'd chosen that morning. It wasn't much—a four-inch blade designed for concealment rather than vampire killing.
Nothing like her precious Nightfall she was used to carrying on official missions.
But it was better than nothing, and right now nothing wasn't going to cut it.
The street ahead curved to the right, disappearing behind a row of older buildings that had been converted into trendy lofts and overpriced restaurants.
Most of the businesses were closed at this hour, their windows dark and their security lights casting harsh pools of illumination that created more shadows than they eliminated.
Perfect.
Gwen quickened her pace slightly, just enough to seem like someone who'd realized they were alone on a dark street and wanted to get somewhere safer.
Behind her, the dragging sound picked up tempo to match.
At the corner, she risked a quick glance over her shoulder.
The thing following her stood maybe six and a half feet tall, with the kind of broad shoulders that suggested serious physical strength.
Its clothes hung wrong, like they'd been sized for someone smaller, and even from thirty feet away she could see the telltale signs of early decomposition that marked a newly turned vampire.
Skin that had started to gray and tighten. Movements that were just slightly too jerky, like a marionette being controlled by someone still learning how to work the strings.
A fresh convert.
Probably turned within the last week, still adapting to its new physiology and struggling with the constant hunger that came with the transformation.
Which made it dangerous in unpredictable ways—too new to have developed proper hunting instincts, but strong enough to tear someone apart if it got close enough.
Gwen turned the corner and immediately broke into a sprint, scanning the building facades for anything she could use.
There—a fire escape ladder hanging just low enough to reach if she jumped. She leaped, caught the bottom rung, and hauled herself up with the kind of upper body strength that came from years of military conditioning.
The second-floor balcony gave her exactly what she needed: high ground, multiple escape routes, and a clear view of the street below.
She drew the knife, testing its balance in her hand. The blade was good steel, sharp enough to cut through supernatural flesh if she could get it in the right places.
Heavy footsteps echoed off the buildings as the vampire rounded the corner, moving faster now that it realized its prey had disappeared.
It stopped directly below her position, head tilted back as it tried to catch her scent.
Up close, it looked even worse. Whatever it had been in life—businessman, construction worker, maybe just some poor bastard who'd been in the wrong place at the wrong time—death and resurrection hadn't been kind to it.
Its skin had the waxy pallor of something that had been dead too long, and its eyes held the flat, predatory intelligence of a creature driven entirely by hunger.
It turned in a slow circle, searching for her trail. When it stepped into the exact spot she needed, Gwen dropped.
The vampire's enhanced senses caught her movement a split second before she landed, which saved its life and ruined her perfect strike.
Instead of driving the blade through the top of its skull, she managed only a glancing blow that scraped across bone and sent her tumbling to the pavement.
She rolled with the impact, coming up in a combat crouch as black blood dripped from the vampire's scalp. It snarled, revealing teeth that had been filed to points, and lunged toward her with clumsy but dangerous enthusiasm.
Gwen sidestepped the attack and brought the knife up in a diagonal slash that opened the creature's shoulder from collarbone to armpit. More black blood splattered across the concrete, and the vampire screamed—a sound like tearing metal that echoed off the building walls.
The scream probably woke half the neighborhood, but that was someone else's problem. Right now she had bigger concerns.
The vampire staggered backward, one hand pressed to its wounded shoulder while the other swiped at her with claws that could have opened her throat if she'd been a fraction of a second slower.
She ducked under the wild swing and came up with an upward thrust that caught it across the left side of its face, the blade parting skin and muscle from jaw to forehead.
If she'd been carrying her trusty weapon, Nightfall, this would have been over already.
But with just steel and her own skill, she was going to have to work for this kill.
Luckily, with how recent it seemed this vampire had been turned, it's healing powers were so slow Gwen could actually tell it would take so long for it to recover. And with how it looked, it probably wouldn't be healing soon without blood supplements which meant her odds of getting off this menu became increasingly tougher.
The vampire lurched away from her, both hands now pressed to its ruined face as black blood seeped between its fingers. For a moment she thought it might try to flee, which would have been the smart play for something so badly outmatched.
Instead, it charged.
The attack came with the desperate fury of something that had nothing left to lose.
Both arms swinging in wide arcs designed to batter her into submission rather than achieve any kind of tactical advantage. She managed to avoid the first swing, but the second caught her in the side of the head and sent stars exploding across her vision.
'Fucking Hell!'
She staggered, fighting to stay upright as the vampire pressed its advantage. Its next attack was a double-handed overhead strike that would have caved in her skull if it had connected.
She threw herself sideways, feeling the wind from its fists as they smashed into the concrete where she'd been standing.
The blade was still in her hand. That was something.
The vampire turned toward her, black blood streaming down its face from the cuts she'd inflicted. It was hurt, but not nearly hurt enough.
And she was running out of room to maneuver in the narrow space between buildings.
'Time to get creative,'
When it lunged again, she didn't try to dodge. Instead, she dropped low and drove the knife up into its left thigh, angling the blade to sever the major muscle groups that controlled leg movement.
The vampire screamed again, but its momentum carried it forward, and its flailing hands caught her across the ribs hard enough to lift her off her feet.
She hit the brick wall behind her and slid to the ground, tasting blood and struggling to breathe. The vampire stood above her, favoring its wounded leg but still very much capable of finishing what it had started.
Gwen kicked out with both feet, catching it in the same leg she'd already injured. The vampire's balance failed, and it toppled sideways with a crash that probably woke everyone within three blocks.
She rolled away from its grabbing hands and came up with the knife ready. The vampire was on its side, trying to push itself upright with arms that shook from blood loss and trauma. Its movements were getting sluggish, uncoordinated.
Now or never.
Gwen threw herself forward, landing on the vampire's back and driving the knife down toward the base of its skull.
The blade punched through bone and into whatever passed for brain tissue in a creature that was technically already dead.
She twisted the knife, grinding steel against bone until she felt the resistance give way.
Brain matter that looked more like black tar than gray tissue oozed out around the blade, and the vampire's struggles became uncoordinated twitches.
"Stay fucking dead this time," she muttered, twisting the knife again for good measure.
The vampire went limp, its body settling into the stillness that marked true death rather than supernatural hibernation.
She pulled the knife free and wiped the blade on its jacket, trying not to think about what kind of diseases might be lurking in vampire blood.
Standing up hurt. Everything hurt, actually. Her ribs felt like someone had used them for batting practice, and her head was still ringing from that first hit. But she was alive, and the vampire wasn't, which made this a victory by any reasonable standard.
She needed to get out of here, before other vampires showed up to investigate the noise.
The smart play was to find a cab and get back to her apartment where she could assess the damage and figure out what to do next.
The walk back to the main street felt like it took forever. Every shadow could have been hiding another vampire, every sound could have been the approach of something worse than what she'd just killed.
But the streets stayed empty, and eventually she reached the busier area where taxis actually traveled after dark.
The cab driver who stopped for her was an older man with the kind of weathered face that suggested someone who'd seen enough of the city's nighttime business to know when not to ask questions.
He took one look at her disheveled appearance and torn clothing, nodded once, and asked for her destination without comment.
"Residential district," she said, settling into the back seat with a wince. "I'll give you the address when we get closer."
The driver nodded again and pulled into traffic. The city passed by outside the windows—late-night diners and convenience stores, the occasional group of people heading home from bars or clubs.
Normal life continuing as if supernatural predators weren't hunting in the shadows between streetlights.
Gwen leaned back against the seat cushions and tried to inventory her injuries. Nothing felt broken, but she was going to be seriously bruised by morning. Her left side especially was already starting to stiffen up where the vampire had caught her with that backhand.
Something was digging into her hip. She shifted position, trying to find a more comfortable angle, and felt whatever it was shift in her pocket. Her phone, probably, knocked loose during the fight.
She reached into her pocket to adjust it and froze.
Her fingers touched broken glass and twisted metal instead of the smooth rectangle of her phone's case.
She pulled the pieces out carefully, trying not to cut herself on the sharp edges of what had once been a functioning piece of technology.
The screen was completely shattered, spider-webbed with cracks that had separated into individual pieces held together by the phone's protective film.
The case was cracked in three places, and something inside the phone itself was rattling around like broken components looking for a way out.
"Fuck," she said quietly, staring at the wreckage in her palm.
The driver glanced at her in the rearview mirror. "Everything alright back there?"
"Fine," she lied, stuffing the broken phone back into her pocket. "Just fine."
But it wasn't fine. Without her phone, she had no way to contact Kaine Cross tomorrow morning.
"Fuck," she repeated, watching the city lights blur past the taxi window.
Tomorrow was going to be complicated.