Page 51 of Born Reckless

We both rise to our feet, each of us knowing it’s time for me to go. “I’ve not even done anything, my dear niece,” she says, offering me a smile as we walk to the door.

And my chest swells. She’s shown me kindness. She’s paid attention to what I had to say. She hasn’t looked at me like I’m going to screw up at any moment. “You’ve done more than you’ll ever know,” I say softly as I reach for the door.

But Sigrid pulls me into her arms and gives me one of the warmest hugs I’ve ever had in my life. Her thin arms envelop me completely and she tucks her face into my neck. She squeezes tightly and with such comfort.

I squeeze my eyes closed. I can count the number of hugs I’ve gotten like this on one hand.

“If you ever get tired of being pampered in that golden tower, you arealwayswelcome here,” she says softly.

And I have to try to blink back the emotion in my eyes when she releases me. “Thank you,” I say softly, my words coming out a little tight. “I will see you later.”

She simply gives me a smile and pulls the door open for me.

I make my way down the stairs. Patrick, Mason’s driver, still waits there and opens the door to the limo for me. I sink down in the seat and gnaw on my lower lip as we roll forward.

I feel raw. I feel exposed and vulnerable.

So much about my life has changed since I arrived in this city. Every single day seems to be a day of discovery. And it’s insanely thrilling, but utterly exhausting.

Two days later,I’m headed out into the city on my own for the first time since I got here. Mason is working late—again, but we’re both starving. He’s been talking about this pizza place a little ways away, and instead of getting delivery, I offered to walk there and pick it up.

I also might be thirsty, and the blood bags just aren’t cutting it today.

I’ve asked everyone I’ve come across if they know of Jon Bonny, but so far, everyone has said no.

I try not to get my hopes up. I’ve learned better. But it’s still disappointing that no answers are coming. Even Google had nothing to offer.

I step out into the evening air, and I take in a deep breath. Summer is coming, and with it, the humidity is rising thanks to Lake Michigan. New York has its own humidity in the summer, but somehow this feels different.

I pull directions to this pizza place up on my phone and set off down the sidewalk.

I’ve heard the stats about Chicago. I’ve heard about the gang violence and the shootings. It’s a pretty universal truth that you’re not supposed to go out after dark in this city. Sunset is only ten minutes away, but what do I have to worry about anymore? Unless someone comes at me with supernatural speed and a stake, I’m pretty confident I can handle myself now, thanks to this second life.

Just as I’m crossing the street, a dark figure pulls my eyes to the side.

When I also see a familiar pair of blue eyes, I stand up straighter. There’s one person I haven’t asked yet, and before I think this situation through, I’m following him.

Except he seems to be in pursuit of someone, but now it’s too late.

Roman De Luca grips a man by the front of his shirt and shoves him back five steps. “You have two options,” Roman growls into the man’s face as he shoves him back again, hard, into an alleyway. “Leave the city, right now. I’ll escort you just to be sure you don’t get lost. Or you stay, and you deal with the consequences of your refusal.”

“You’re not king,” the man hisses as he takes a swing at Roman. “You can’t tag me like cattle, just so you can keep track of me.”

“There may be no king here,” Roman says as he easily steps out of the way of the man’s attack. “But it’s my job to keep everyone here safe. Your refusal is a direct threat to us all. We don’t let your kind of vermin into our city.”

“Come on,” the man says, exasperated. “Who the hell do you think—”

“You have until three!” Roman bellows as he stalks toward the man. “Make your choice. One!”

The man curses, his eyes scanning the alleyway. I see him evaluating if he can escape or not. “Come on!” he yells, his anger rising. His eyes flash red and black veins sprout from them.

“Two!” Roman yells. He takes another step toward the uncooperative man.

“You really want to come to blows over this?” the man seethes. I watch him sink into a slight crouch, his fists curling.

“Three.” Roman says the word low and deadly. And in the blink of an eye, he’s on the man.

I hear the wet, sick crunch as Roman sinks his fangs into the man’s neck. He swings a fist, and immediately, I hear bones breaking, and more wet sounds.