Know Thine Enemy (11 page)

"
Of course, if you go chatting with the enemy—"

"
That's not what I mean. They
knew me.
They knew about Harrison, about Maine. They knew about you, too. Things
no one
could know."

Color drained from Wright
's face. "What?"

"
They knew."

"
What do you fucking mean, they knew?"

"
I mean they knew! About Amber—"

If there was any chance at all to get out of this argument unscathed, it evaporated instantly. No one, not even Wright, spoke of his dead wife.

He closed down. "Shut up."

"
They knew about Stephen—"

"
Shut up
!"

"
They knew about Berlie—"

"
What the fuck have you done to us?" The space between them closed. Wright seized her by the shoulders and shook her until the room blurred. "What the
royal fuck
have you done to me?"

"
Let me go!"

"
If they know who I am, they can get to me. Get to us. Get to
her."
He released her just as quickly, disgust falling across his face. "For Christ's sake, Izzie, even if you don't give a rat's fuck about me, how the hell could you do this to Berlie?"

"
This isn't my fault."

"
Oh, of course it isn't," Wright spat. "You're just the one going to strange bars and making friends with bloodsuckers. Why in the world would this be your fault?"

"
Your rules are insane!"

"
Fuck you twice!"

"
Goddammit, Zack, the whole world isn't out to get you! You think a couple vamps knowing where you came from and your name is gonna make any kind of difference?"

"
You don't know what I know."

Izzie rolled her eyes.
"Of course not. How could I? But I do know you spend more of your time absorbed in your paranoid bullshit than you do being a father to your kid."

A deafening silence filled the air between them, and for a very real moment, Izzie thought he might strike her. The wild look in his eyes became maniacal, and though his hands shook, though she very much knew he wanted to smack her to the ground, he had too much class to raise his fist.

"I'd kill you if you were anyone else," Wright growled.

"
I know."

He nodded curtly.
"Yeah. Okay. Get your shit ready. We leave in ten."

"
No."

She felt as surprised as he looked. The objection had come from nowhere.

"What?" he demanded. "It's not safe here, anymore."

Izzie nodded, emboldened by her bravado.
"Maybe, but I'm not going."

"
The fuck you mean?"

"
I have to warn him."

"
Warn who?"

"
Ryker."

The manic look flickered again in his gaze.
"The vampire? What the hell for?"

"
The vamps who grabbed me last night had some personal beef with him. They wanted to sign me on as their personal bounty hunter and take him out."

Wright blinked.
"And?"

"
And Ryker had more than one chance to take
me
out, and he didn't. I owe it to him to let him know—"

"
Jesus Christ, listen to what you're saying."

Izzie shrugged.
"Look, it's the lesser of two evils."

"
No, it's just evil. So these vamps have a fucking turf war, what do you care?"

"
What does it matter? It's Ryker or C.R.O.S.S.—"

"
What the—
cross?
What the fuck is
cross?"

"
Some demented vampire members-only club." She made a face. "I'm warning Ryker."

"
If you're doing anything, you're
killing
Ryker."

Her muscles tightened and her skin flushed. The rising pressure in her chest gave her the faint idea of what a heart attack might feel like.
"You know what? I think I'm tired of this arrangement."

"
What?"

"
This bullshit
my way or the highway
sob story that is your life." She shook her head hard and crossed her arms. "You and Berlie better get going. I'm going to find Ryker."

"
What the hell is this? You're choosing him over—"

"
I'm not choosing him," Izzie said. "I'm choosing me. And I'm choosing to do this my way. Get out."

Another cold beat settled between them, the air hanging thick.
"Yeah," he said. "Right. Go to Hell."

Izzie flinched but didn
't respond. Tears burned her eyes and the pressure in her chest swelled until she thought she might explode. She didn't breathe again until the sound of her door slamming sent a hard shock through her bones, and silence fell across the room.

And then the walls came crashing down. Panic set in.

She owed Wright her life. More than her life. She owed him everything.

Goddammit.

Izzie had no idea how many minutes had passed by the time her mind returned to her body. She blinked and wiped her eyes, then turned her attention to the room.

Whatever had just happened, she couldn
't handle it at the moment. There would be time for reflection later.

Right now, she had a vampire to find.

* * * * *

Izzie didn
't have much to her name. A duffle bag full of clothing and hygiene products, her dagger, the cross around her neck, and the crossbow Wright had given her. Packing didn't take long, though she caught herself stalling, riding out waves of panic as snippets of her fight with Wright pressed against the corners of her mind.

Beyond finding and warning Ryker, she had no clue where
the road would take her. Before meeting Wright she'd relied on the kindness of strangers . . . and the wallets she lifted from their pockets and purses. While she knew picking up where she'd left off wouldn't take much, the thought of ripping off unsuspecting bystanders stirred unrest in her belly. With Wright, she never had to worry about cash. Amber's death had provided Wright a healthy life insurance payout, and with the way they lived—staying in dives and only buying what they needed—it had yet to run out. Of course, that money wouldn't last forever; Wright had already stretched it beyond its lifespan. What came next for him was anyone's guess.

Izzie exhaled slowly, slinging her duffle ba
g over her shoulder. She wouldn't take the crossbow. It wasn't hers, and she knew shit about wielding it. The dagger was her weapon—the only weapon she'd ever used with any measure of success. Casting a final glance to the room she'd called home the last few weeks, she pushed herself toward goodbye.

Christ, that had happened fast.

"It's all right," she murmured, stepping onto the landing outside the room. And it was all right, though she didn't know how. Nothing felt real at the moment. Not the wind on her face or the bag on her back, or even the familiar eyes of a child she adored. Izzie stopped short. Berlie stood between her and the stairwell that led to the parking lot.

"
Hey, kiddo," Izzie said awkwardly. She didn't know why, but she thought Wright and his daughter would be long gone. Much more than ten minutes had passed since he had stormed out of her room. "What's the buzz?"

"
It's true," Berlie said, her gaze drifting to the duffle bag. Her hands trembled, her pale blonde hair frizzed and uncombed. "He said you were going away, but I didn't believe it."

"
Sweetie, I—"

"
You can't. You can't leave us."

Izzie plastered on a smile as something in her chest twisted.
"I have to. Just for a while."

"
He won't wait."

"
I know."

"
He says you won't be able to find us once we leave. Please don't go, Izzie."

Shit. She knew that look. A long sigh heaved through her lips, her shoulders dropping. Berlie wouldn
't do well with change—not of this magnitude. Her thoughts, dark and twisted, always escalated in degree and severity once Wright uprooted and took her somewhere new. Losing someone she cared about would be a huge setback. And because Wright was prone to write his daughter's fears off as a side-effect of the life he lived, the kid had never possessed a reliable outlet for her anxiety.

"
I'll find you," Izzie said softly. "Your dad doesn't know me as well as he'd think."

"
He won't let you," Berlie replied. "If you go to the vampire, he won't ever let you back. He says evil won't let you go without making you evil, too."

Izzie sighed again, her head bowing.

"Look," she said, "your dad and I have very different views on evil. He has his reasons and I have mine. The way Zack sees monsters everywhere . . . ."

She shivered and frowned, her mind taking her down a path she hadn
't intended, but one which led her to convictions she hadn't realized she held.

"
Harrison did that, you know. He saw the Devil behind every shadow and it drove him mad, in the big ole literal sense. I won't be like that. Not after everything."

Sometimes words brought light to thoughts and action. Until that moment, talking with Wright
's daughter, just seconds from making her escape, Izzie hadn't realized how trapped she felt. How controlled. How much Wright mirrored Harrison in thought, if not in action. Harrison's demons might have been imaginary, but he waged war all the same. She'd watched for years as madness mounted before finally taking him over completely, and the breaking point had nearly destroyed her.

"
I love you," Izzie said, looking to Berlie again. She couldn't stand the pain on the girl's face, but understood now, unlike ever before, how important these next steps were. "I love you, and I love your dad, too. But I got to do this for me. I promise this won't be the last time we meet."

"
Please," Berlie whispered, tears choking her voice. "Please don't go."

"
I have to."

"
No."

Izzie nodded and smiled sadly.
"Yeah, I do. You have my number if things get rough." She pressed forward. "Here's looking at you, kid."

It took everything she had not to
glance back, but Izzie pushed onward. A strange sense of power washed over her in the aftermath. Her life was suddenly an open book, rather than part of someone else's strategic plan. Granted, she had a mission now. A purpose. She had to find Ryker, but that was nothing. That would be over soon, and then whatever came next would be a roll of the die.

Oddly enough, as frightened and uncertain as she was of the road ahead, a very real part of her trembled with excitement.
For the first time in a long time, the world was hers.

Chapter Six

The warmth in her belly and the cadence in her chest made her feel more aware of herself than she had in years.

Emotions were weak, according to Wright, and relying on them often got one killed.
Living without emotional burdens had given her a sort of addictive freedom, and, though she'd always known on some level it couldn't last, she had enjoyed it as long as she could.

Of course, Izzie respected Wright too damn much to give him grief about the philosophy by which he lived
, but she had learned to take most everything her friend said with a grain of salt, especially in the latter years.

Wright had learned the hard way how attachment could lead to destruction, and in his world, that made it gospel truth. Izzie knew the real Zack Wright had died alongside Amber years ago. That man had buried his wife and son, and had taken his daughter away from any form of normality to seek vengeance on a boogeyman who would never go quietly into the night. Izzie honestly didn
't know how much of Wright's convictions resided in Amber's dead breast—if he truly fought on because of what had happened, or if his hatred for the undead burned deeper than his loss.

Ryker said most hunters had a cause, and it was true.
Though Izzie didn't make friends with others in her field to know this beyond Wright's experience, she figured there had to be a damn good reason to leave behind the civilized world and retreat to the shadows. No one would willingly choose this life. She hadn't. She'd been aimless and desperate, and Wright had saved her from herself.