Know Thine Enemy (12 page)

Saved her, claimed her, owned her.

Until now.

Wright
's obsession with monsters had not once struck her as exaggerated. He told her what happened, and she believed him. Her gratitude had fueled thought and action, though a bit of herself remained in every move. While she hadn't known for certain until the other night, she had suspected not all vampires were created equal. Some were truly twisted, as was the case of the woman who had gutted Wright's pregnant wife, but others were mere citizens of the world, living the only way they could. Izzie never targeted anyone who didn't have it coming, and though she'd been selective, she hadn't understood what separated the sinners from the saints until Ryker.

And then she understood. God, she understood in ways she couldn
't have fathomed two nights ago. Ryker had not only refrained from lunging for her throat, he'd also breached the invisible line between the dead and the living and talked to her like a person.

There it was
. Vampires were no different than humans, save their biology. Some were good, some were bad, and all were trying to survive.

Suddenly everything was in question. Wright and his motives. Izzie and her alliances. Could her friend, the man who had pulled her off the streets, be more dangerous than the father she
'd put in the ground? Nothing seemed certain anymore. Harrison's demons might have been imaginary, but that hadn't stopped him from entering her room that night with a dagger. Wright's demons were real, but not all of them bore the face of his wife's killer.

She set aside the questions for later. She knew one thing for certain: she was finished relying on others. Harrison was long dead and Wright, regardless of what he
meant to her, had poisoned her actions long enough. She was through being the tool used by damaged men. It ended now. Tonight. She would find Ryker and do something for herself.

She would save a vampire
's life.

Izzie shivered. Her footsteps felt heavier than usual. The night itself seemed different
, open and liberating. Soon her gaze found the rusted welcome sign above The Wall's front door. Her heart skipped.

No rules now. Just those she set, and those she chose to follow. If she wanted a cheeseburger and a beer, it was her decision to make.

Goddammit, it always had been.

Izzie sighed. No point in berating herself over that she could not change. Instead, she pushed the bar door open and immediately scoured the seats for Ryker.

He wasn't there, of course. Wouldn't want to be too convenient and actually show up when she wanted to talk with him. Izzie sighed and navigated slowly toward the bar.

Connor stood on the other side, jotting down some blonde bimbo
's order. Izzie had the feeling he'd been staring at her, though, instead of his message pad.

"
Connor," she said, taking another glance around the room.

"
Wow, rude much?" the bimbo drawled. "I was, like, ordering here."

"
Yer done," Connor growled. His gaze never left Izzie's face. "Din't tink I'd see you here t'night."

"
Has Ryker been in?"

"
Nar. He out lookin' fer you."

Izzie
quirked a smile. "I might've guessed. Anyone ever tell that guy he has a major stalking fetish?"

"
Weren't nuthin' bad," Connor said. "He bin worried."

"
Worried?"

"
Umm, hell-o." The blonde waved her hand. "Like, paying customer here."

Connor ignored her.
"Sumfink grabbed ya, right?"

Izzie wet her lips, a chill racing through her body.
"Umm, how did he . . . how did you—"

"
Nose, girlie. They got wicked senses. He smelled it or sumfink."

"
And what?"

The bear of a man shrugged.
"Got worried, I guess."

The word seemed odd. Why a vampire she barely knew would worry about her
? Then again, she had just left the only family she'd ever bothered to claim on a hunch that Prentiss might try to kill her undead stalker, so maybe she shouldn't question Ryker's concern. Strange as it was.

"
Dunno where he went," Connor continued. "But he meant ta find ya."

Izzie frowned, then shook her head with a sigh.
"Thanks," she said. "If he comes by—"

"
Ya. I know. He said the same to me 'bout you." He huffed. "Not a ruddy messagin' service."

"
You people are so rude." The blonde slipped off her chair and aiming her nose at the ceiling. "If this is how you treat customers—"

Connor made a face.
"Ah, get," he said, shooing. "This ain't the place for yer kind, anyway."

Izzie had no idea what that meant until the blonde poked her tongue out, shook off her skin, and transformed into a pink lizard.

"That's racist," the lizard said. "You're a racist."

"
Get outta here, hisser." Connor's nose wrinkled. "Last time I had one of you in here, ya ate my Fluffy."

The lizard shrugged.
"Shouldn't keep cats."

"
Get!" He looked back to Izzie. "Better find him. Looks ta be a wild night."

Yes, that seemed for the best. As it was, Izzie was at a loss for words. There was so much about this world she didn
't know or understand.

But she had plenty of time to learn.

* * * * *

If these alley walls could ta
lk . . . .

Ryker didn
't get worried. He didn't. It was fact, damn near law, and he hated breaking the law. Well, his law. Those rules he established and obeyed, particularly when needed to cover a part of himself he didn't care to reveal. He wasn't a touchy-feely kind of guy. That self had died long ago, buried in the place his body allegedly rested according to his great-great-great nieces and nephews. He didn't form bonds and he didn't worry about humans. They were soft, fragile, breakable, and they didn't live very long.

He didn
't worry. His life, better or worse, remained the same. It had for decades. Generations. Already he'd spent a hundred and seventy-five years on the earth, only twenty-seven as a human, and he planned on many more. Brief as his humanly stint was, it had taught him never to take anything for granted . . . or at face value. Affection, admiration, respect, support, fidelity were all things that could be bought or sold.

Ryker had certainly entertained human relationships over the years, but he knew enough not to get attached. Nothing ever changed where the lesser race was concerned. They lied, cheated, ate, fucked, squandered, professed, bought, sold, and whittled themselves into miserable sacks of skin before night finally came. True, he
'd met one or two humans over the years that he had missed once their time arrived, but even if those humans made up for the rest, death was a part of the process—the cycle—and he knew better than to mourn what he could not change.

Izzie Bennett, mystifying as she was, meant nothing to him. Nothing. She was a face Connor had wanted explained. Therefore, Ryker had tracked her, watched her, and
learned her well so his friend knew The Wall's patrons were not at risk. The fact that she had disappeared last night after running scared was no one's concern, least of all his. Humans spooked easy, even the tough ones. Throwing Izzie off her game was bound to manipulate her comfort zone. She had reacted instinctively, and her instincts led to danger.

Easy peasy. Ryker
's hands were clean. He didn't care.

And fucking yet
.

None of this made a lick of sense. Not the alley, not Izzie, and certainly not his interest in her. So she was different
—there was bound to be a slightly more evolved human one of these days. The fact remained she was a child in a monster's world, and though her attitude might be enlightened, her actions would get her killed one day. The girl simply had no idea what was out there. What lay beyond the world of fanged fiends. What truly made the night so precarious.

Yet
unlike any hunter Ryker had ever seen, unlike any human contact he'd ever known, any mortal association he'd ever entertained . . . Izzie acted on behalf of herself and no one else. She wasn't like the groupies—those women who either knew about vampires or desperately wanted to know about vampires. The women Ryker fed from got a killer high off his fang, and their blood was rarely missed. Similarly, Izzie wasn't anything like the woman to whom Ryker had once been engaged, the woman who had given his chest the first of many stab wounds. Maggie hadn't taken kindly to Ryker's new body or disposition, nor had she been eager to join him in undeath.

The women he met were either addicted to the rush or determined to end his life. Izzie was the first person to embody neither quality.

That was why he'd come out here, Ryker told himself. He didn't need to find her because he cared what happened to her—he needed to find her because she was too damn intriguing to just let die.

Whatever she
'd encountered after leaving The Wall was not a friend, nor a coincidence. He'd lived too long, seen too much, to believe in chance. Any trouble she'd found was his fault. He should have sensed someone on his trail. He should have been more careful.

Immortality didn
't excuse clumsiness or arrogance, and through one or the other he'd led some predator right to her.

"
Damn," Ryker murmured, his hands sliding into his pockets. "Where are you?"

Footsteps bounced off pavement and carried through the alleyways, stirring him from his reverie and directing his gaze toward the area where Izzie had left her vampires the night
before last. Her scent filled his lungs and, as though answering a prayer, she appeared. Her midnight hair was wrapped in a sloppy ponytail, her usually pale skin was flushed, and she had a bag slung over her shoulder. She skidded to a stop, apparently as taken aback to see him as he was to see her.

Ryker blinked.
"Well," he said. "Guess that answers that question."

"
What are you doing here?" she demanded.

She was visibly flustered, and the knowledge gave him comfort.
As confused as he'd been since she wandered into his life, it was reassuring that she hadn't escaped unscathed.

"
Thought a midnight stroll sounded fun," he replied with a shrug.

"
You're a few hours early."

"
Yeah, well, it's always midnight somewhere." He smirked, the pressure in his chest alleviating, but not as much as he would have liked. The notion anyone, especially a human female, could have any power over him was disconcerting, and the quicker he shook the sensation the better. "Your turn." His gaze dropped to her duffle bag. "Something send you running scared?"

"
Why?"

"
Looks like you're all packed."

"
I'm leaving town, and you might wanna think of doing the same."

His
eyebrows perked. "Oh yeah? Any reason why?"

"
Look, I don't have time to explain. I just—"

"
If you're scampering, why is it that you're here and not with Butch?"

"
Because that's the way it is. What are
you
doing out here?"

Ryker spread his arms.
"Already told you. Midnight stroll."

"
Connor said you were looking for me."

Dammit. He didn
't want her knowing that. He didn't want her knowing anything. Connor had a bit of a problem with the truth, in that he liked telling it too much. It would have been an admirable quality were it not so damn annoying.

Ryker sighed and shrugged, doing his best not to look bothered or tense.
"And if I am?" he asked. "You're the one that bolted like a bat outta hell last night."

"
And what? You decided twenty-four hours later you'd give a damn?"

"
Oh, is that what this is about? You wanted me to come after you? Sorry, sweets, you don't really seem like the damsel type."

Izzie
's eyes hardened. "I'm not."

"
Then why ask at all?"

"
Because I—ahh, fuck it, it doesn't matter." She scowled, bouncing her duffle bag. "You're not safe."

"
Well, yeah. I'm a vampire."

"
I mean you're not safe
here
. They're after you."

Ryker frowned. All right, so that wasn
't exactly what he'd expected. "After me?"

"
Some guy named Prentiss and the two hussies he works with."

That name . . . .
He did his best not to react, but the pounding in his head deafened.