Stakeout (Aurora Sky (23 page)

Whitney and Hope were already in line at
Tastee Freez when I arrived. I joined them and asked for a burger,
fries, and a shake when it was our turn to order. We took our
numbers and grabbed our usual booth around the corner in the very
back.

“What did Fane tell you?” Whitney asked as
soon as we’d tossed our coats on the bench and sat down.

“Only that he’d delivered a warning. What
were the rest of you doing there? Daren and Reece showed up right
before Fane left,” I added.

“Those guys are wicked,” Hope said.

Whitney cleared her throat and glared at
Hope. “Not as wicked as Fane.”

“Well, obviously,” Hope replied.

Whitney leaned across the table, lips curving
up.

“If only you could have seen Fane in action,
Noel. He waltzed into your dad’s waiting room like he owned the
joint, the rest of us following right behind.”

“Did you tell her about the black lipstick?”
Hope asked.

Whitney’s eyes lit up. “Oh my God, before we
walked in, Fane put on black lipstick. I never wanted to kiss him
so much.” She fanned her face, which was more than a gesture. The
hussy’s cheeks were actually turning red.

“So, what happened?” I asked. The idea of a
waiting room full of Goths at Clive’s office painted a comical
picture inside my head.

“The receptionist asked if any of us had an
appointment and Fane said “no,” but that he was there to have a
word with Dr. Harper. When she asked us to leave Fane refused. When
he recruited us at school, he told us to all bring board and card
games, coloring books if we wanted, so we started spreading out on
the floor, taking over the entire room.”

Hope nodded her head. “It totally kicked ass.
Remember Cody, Andrew, and Jason from Algebra? They started playing
hacky sack in the middle of the room.”

“Yeah,” Whitney said, nodding along. “It was
crazy. So, finally your dad comes out looking all pissed off
wanting to know what the hell is going on and Fane says, “We’re
friends of Noel’s and if you bother her again, we’re going to
bother you. And we’ll come by every afternoon after school if you
don’t back the hell off.”

I was trying to picture Clive’s face; his
reaction. I was dying to know how he had responded to a mob scene
at his place of work. That had to have thrown him. What about the
patients in the waiting room? Heaven forbid they think Clive was
anything other than the good doctor. I was starting to see the
brilliance behind Fane’s strategy.

“What did my dad say?” I asked.

Whitney frowned. “He told Fane that his
relationship with his daughter was none of Fane’s business.”

A lump formed in my throat so large I
couldn’t swallow. “And then?” I whispered hoarsely.

Whitney straightened up, eyes fierce, as
though she’d taken on Fane’s persona. “And then Fane gave Dr.
Harper the coldest look I’ve ever seen and in a voice that sent
goose pimples to my arms, said, “If you contact your daughter again
I’m going to make your life a living hell, and I will take pleasure
in every second of it.”

“What did my dad say?” I asked
breathlessly.

“He didn’t say anything.”

“He looked like he was having a stroke,” Hope
offered.

That would have been too good, but this was
pretty well near perfection.

Whitney sighed. “Fane Donado is the hottest
vampire on the planet. Total knight in shining armor.”

“Maybe he was a knight,” Hope said.

“Or a prince.” Whitney’s eyes sparkled.

“Maybe he was a pauper,” I suggested, which
earned me a scowl from Whitney. “Unless he was of noble birth he
very likely didn’t lead a charmed life.” And I thought I had
problems. Fane could have been the son of a cobbler or a
half-starved orphan.

Whitney lifted her nose. “Well, I don’t care
if he shined shoes for a living. I’d offer him my body in a
microsecond.”

Hope laughed.

“But enough about my fantasies,” Whitney
said. Her eyes sparkled when she looked at me. “I want all the
dirty details.”

I looked at her in confusion.

Whitney made a huff of impatience. “Where did
he bite you? What did it feel like? Did Fane hold your head while
he sucked you?” She leaned all the way over the table. “I want to
see it. I want to see where he bit you.”

At that moment, a scrawny boy in braces
walked up with our tray of food. I didn’t recognize him from Denali
High School. Might still be in junior high. He didn’t look old
enough to drive and certainly not old enough to overhear what
Whitney had spouted without turning a hundred and three degrees in
the face.

Whitney and Hope exchanged glances before
bursting into laughter. The poor kid dropped the tray as quick as
he could and took off.

“Hey, you forgot our numbers,” Whitney called
after him, holding up our order cards.

Hope hit her on the shoulder. “He might think
you mean our phone numbers.”

This set Whitney and Hope off into another
round of hysterics. I might have joined them if everything in my
life didn’t feel so topsy-turvy and out of control. Still, I
couldn’t help teasing Whitney. “Nice going, ace. That kid’s
probably scarred for life.”

“Boys,” Whitney replied with an eye roll.
“Let’s get back to the subject of real men.”

I grabbed a handful of fries and shook my
head. “Fane didn’t bite me, and he’s not going to. We’re friends.
Friends don’t bite friends.”

Fane had looked seriously smoking in his Goth
getup, but he wasn’t my type and thank goodness he wasn’t because
Aurora was my friend. I had negative ten interest in a love
triangle involving a vampire, a vampire hunter, and a vampire
informant. No. Hell, no.

Whitney’s face fell in disappointment. She
turned to Hope. “Hope, what’s the opposite of a whore?”

Hope stopped unwrapping her burger and lifted
her brows. “A prude?”

“Yeah, a prude,” Whitney said, turning
forward once more. “Please don’t tell me you’re turning into a
goody two-shoes puritan, or I may have to barf all over my
burger.”

“Eww!” Hope said mid-chew.

“Do I look like a prude?”

Whitney took a quick look at my corset and
shrugged. “I just can’t believe you’re not taking advantage of a
dream opportunity.”

“She’s not over Gavin,” Hope said. “I get
it.”

“Okay, fine,” Whitney said. “But it would
serve Gavin right if you became bite buddies with Fane.”

“Bite buddies,” Hope repeated. “Good
one.”

All this talk of biting was making me hungry.
I devoured my burger and fries while Whitney went off on a wistful
fantasy involving herself and Fane. Halfway through my shake, I
received a text from Melcher telling me to come in the next
morning. Hopefully that meant he’d found a place for me to hang my
hat.

12

The next morning, I left an hour after Fane went to
school. Joss set toast and tea out for me again. When I told him I
had to run an errand, he didn’t ask any questions. I could see why
he made such a good roommate.

Speaking of roommates, I hoped the next set
worked multiple jobs and were never home. Sharing a space with
other women sucked. Having my own place would be so cool. Dante
mentioned having a roommate, so I doubted I’d get off without
one.

I’d find out soon enough.

Walking through the base always felt like
some kind of twisted joke. The men and women wore head-to-toe camo.
The guys had shaved heads and the women wore tightly knotted buns
at the napes of their necks. Made me feel like freak girl striding
down the hall in black Goth wear: my hair loose and stringy over my
face.

I stepped up to the front desk outside
Melcher’s office and was met with a frown. The secretary had me
wait, but it wasn’t long before one of the unit’s specially trained
doctors came out to collect me. He didn’t wear camo, but a white
lab coat was hardly comforting.

“Good morning, Miss Harper. Please follow
me.”

I followed Lab Coat into an exam room that
didn’t look much different than the kind at real hospitals.

“Please have a seat on top of the examination
table.”

I jumped onto the table, a white sheet of
paper crinkling under me while the doc clicked the door shut.
According to my calendar, I wasn’t due to receive my shot for
another week. Guess Melcher decided to have it done early as long
as he was calling me in.

The monthly injection is what kept all of us
ABers from turning into vampires.

The irony was that when Melcher recruited
each of us, he simultaneously saved us and condemned us to a life
dependent on the government’s antidote. It was kind of weird
knowing that eternity was just within reach yet simultaneously out
of the question.

We were recruited to put an end to vampires,
not become them.

When Melcher enlisted anyone with AB blood,
he first infected them with a mix of diseases now known to cause
vampirism in people with AB negative or positive blood. In boot
camp, my instructor had referred to it as “activation”—a necessary
evil for vampire hunters to successfully poison vamps with their
blood.

But not necessary for those of us with AB
positive blood. It only worked with AB negative.

Melcher hadn’t been sure. Not until me. He’d
said I was his final test subject. When my blood failed to poison a
vampire during initiation, he’d come to the conclusion that people
with AB positive blood were no longer candidates for assassin work.
We could still be used as informants. I wondered if they’d start
bringing in all blood types for undercover work. I hoped not. I
liked to think I was special, even if my blood couldn’t poison a
vamp. Maybe my blood connection made me better equipped to deal
with them.

The doctor walked over with a large needle
and took my arm in his cold hands. I looked away. Sure, knives
didn’t bother me, but needles did.

The tip of the needle jabbed through my skin.
I held my breath until it was over.

“Have you experienced any unusual symptoms
since your last visit?” the doctor asked. Same question every
time.

“No.”

“Any concerns or questions?”

“I feel great.”

Every month, the doctor went through the same
routine and questions with me before sending me to check in with
Melcher. It was like a teeth cleaning before seeing the
dentist.

He scribbled some notes inside my chart then
looked up and said I could go wait outside Melcher’s office.

The door to Melcher’s office was slightly
ajar. Sometimes he left it that way for me to go on inside, so I
walked over. But as I neared, I heard him addressing someone in a
stern voice.

“You were supposed to take care of
everything. Instead, I had to rescue you from a prison cell...
again! I cannot keep cleaning up after you, Jared.”

Whoa, hold the smartphone. Jared? At first I
thought Melcher was talking to another informant or one of his
hunters. Jared didn’t strike me as the kind of guy who got
reprimanded. More like the kind of guy who called the shots. I was
glad Melcher stuck to his guns. He was far less intimidating than
the likes of Just Jared.

I knew I shouldn’t, but I paused a moment
longer beside Melcher’s door.

“Clean up after me? That’s rich, Gabriel.
Since when are you a comedian?”

I didn’t hear Melcher’s answer because I
backed up as quickly and quietly as I could. Keeping my head bent,
I slouched in a chair across from the secretary’s desk.

Gabriel, I repeated inside my head. Gabriel
Melcher. It didn’t sound right. I didn’t know a lot about Melcher,
but at least now I knew his first name.

What I wouldn’t give to know how Mr. Badass
Jared ended up in a jail cell... twice. Maybe he ought to stick to
recruiting rather than field work. I hoped Aurora was okay. Valerie
could rot in a cell for all I cared.