Know Thine Enemy (24 page)

Ryker recalled the scar on her stomach.
"He get you, too?"

"
Yeah. And you saw the beauty mark it left, but you should see the other guy." She offered a humorless laugh, then grew quiet, as though revisiting an old ghost. A beat passed before she continued. "I don't even know how I got the knife away from him, you know? I hear stories of mommas who lift trucks to save their children and don't know where the strength came from, and I wonder if it was my survivor instinct or if he was sick with something beyond whatever had driven him psychotic. But I got the knife away from him somehow and I stuck that motherfucker into his chest and watched him die. Then I ran. I ran to the cathedral where we went to Mass—the few times we went, I should say—and the priest there gave me money and food. I don't know if he knew what had happened, but I was covered in blood so he must have…but then, everyone knew Harrison was insane. Maybe they had all figured it was just a matter of time before he snapped. At any rate, he cleaned me up and gave me enough cash to get me the fuck outta Dodge, and I was gone."

Izzie fell quiet again, and Ryker concentrated on the road. In that moment, he felt like a prick for
the times, few and far between as they were, that he'd felt sorry for himself. He'd had a choice in every hand he'd been dealt, and Izzie had never known freedom. Not really.

"
What happened next?" he asked.

"
I . . . umm, I jumped from place to place. When the cash ran out, I started staying at shelters and stealing from grocery stores and the like. As I got older, I picked pockets." She laughed shortly. "That's actually how I met Zack. I picked his pocket and he put me into a wall, and he could've killed me but he didn't. He saw something in me I didn't know to see, and he took me in. He taught me everything I know about monsters . . . but that's why, you see. Why I don't have a reason the way he does. Harrison was human and he nearly killed me. I learned not to discriminate just because someone doesn't have a heartbeat."

Ryker nodded.
"Makes it lucky for me, I figure."

"
Yeah? Maybe." Izzie sighed. "So . . . umm . . . the whole demon thing doesn't bother me. But you biting me . . . ."

He tensed.

"It was—I don't know if I want to become something else."

"
A vampire?"

"
I'm not particularly good at this being human thing, but being a vampire isn't something I've aspired to, you know?"

"
I wasn't thinking that when I tasted you."

She shrugged.
"I know, I just feel like I needed to get that out there."

"
No need. I promise I won't bite you again." Ryker favored her with a smile he didn't feel. "Unless you ask nicely, that is."

Izzie didn
't laugh. "And there's that."

"
What?"

"
What happened back there. Between us. I don't know if I can make sense of it now."

"
Izzie—"

"
Everything was strained and weird and sometimes wonderful but terrifying. I don't expect you to—"

"
If you never want me touch you again, you have my word."

He waited, hoping she
'd correct him. Say she just needed time to think or something—say she loved his hands on her skin and his mouth on her cunt, and everything they'd shared wasn't, as they said, for show. She told him she hadn't faked everything, and while he knew that was true, he also knew she wasn't fully herself when she said it.

He wouldn
't hold her to a promise made under the influence of something uncontrollable.

Yet when Izzie made no attempt to reassure him, something in his chest jerked and fell. He understood certain things now, even if he hadn
't determined the cause. He knew he wanted her as fiercely as he'd ever wanted a woman, and he knew the thought of her bowing out of his life left him feeling hollow. Strange how one person could turn everything on its head. But then, he'd never known anyone like Izzie.

And he wanted her in his life. Today, tomorrow, the next day and countless days after.

"Start looking for a place to pull over," he said. "It's time to get off the road."

* * * * *

They found it by virtue of a lucky turn onto a side street. A few miles south of the highway sat a small cabin, likely the vacation spot for a married couple when they had a weekend without the kids. The place was relatively clean, and far enough from the road a passing motorist couldn't see it through the thicket of trees. It was cozy and quaint, and the right distance from the hell-on-earth behind them to make Izzie believe she could get some decent sleep after a long shower. She didn't realize, until catching a glimpse of her reflection, that she still had dried blood on her face. Ryker hadn't mentioned it; perhaps he thought she didn't need the reminder.

The cabin came equipped with two bedrooms
—a bathroom sandwiched between them—a small kitchenette, and a living room complete with a huge sofa and a big screen television. The walls were decorated with hunting trophies and while the fridge was relatively bare, there were a few provisions that would make life easier over the next however-long they decided to stay. Really, all Izzie needed was a can opener and SpaghettiOs, and thankfully, the owners had stockpiled on canned goods. She'd feel bad were she not famished and on the run from sadistic nut jobs.

"
I need a shower," Izzie said. She'd located a pair of sweats and a t-shirt, and while the bed called her name, she desperately needed to scrub Briggs, the guard, and the whole damn facility off her skin.

"
All right," Ryker said softly. "It's getting light out, so I likely won't be up when you get out."

"
That's okay. I have vamp hours as it is." She laughed as though she'd said something funny, but it was a bookmark for the confused feelings she had for her traveling companion. Their discussion in the car had her mind churning too fast for her fatigued body to keep up. Everything had happened so quickly before. It would be easy to fall into his arms and ask that he make her forget, but she needed space from the ordeal.

She needed to relearn herself before she decided what she wanted.

Ryker smiled and stepped forward, and his closeness did a number on her. He ran his hand through her hair and brushed a tender kiss across her brow. Butterflies danced in her stomach.

"
Good night, Izzie."

Her legs trembled and her heart clenched. In that moment she wanted badly to throw herself against his chest and finish the kiss they
'd shared. Finish exploring him the way she wanted—but the distance she needed was no less real. She wasn't a slut and she wasn't a victim.

And the wealth of what she felt for Ryker was tangled into a mess she didn
't know how to interpret.

Thus, Izzie refrained. Instead, she nodded and smiled softly.
"Good night."

Chapter Fourteen

Izzie wrestled with exhaustion, losing several times before finally convincing herself she couldn
't lie in bed the rest of her life. Her body felt sore and tense, the way it did after a long fight, and while she remembered where she was the second her eyes fought open, the knowledge of what waited beyond the closed bedroom door was too confusing to face first thing after waking up.

Hell, after these last few days, she felt she could sleep forever.

The next step remained ambiguous. Briggs's men would undoubtedly be combing the area in search of their lost prisoners, if not for the sake that they had escaped then certainly for the two dead bodies they'd stepped over to do so. While Izzie wasn't necessarily eager to uproot from the small haven Ryker had discovered, she likewise felt too wound with nervous energy to envision staying put too long.

Though what she might return to, she hadn
't the slightest. Wright was likely halfway across the country by now, and with him the only hint of the life she'd known. Izzie knew her apprehension was based on uncertainty—she definitely couldn't return to hunting demons and vampires. Even those deserving her blade were no different than the lengthy list of human criminals, and she wouldn't start doling out punishment indiscriminately. She wouldn't become something she hated.

Reuniting with Wright wouldn
't change anything. Thus she was left alone.

Not alone.

Izzie sighed, forcing herself upright in bed. Presuming anything was dangerous now, especially regarding her traveling companion. A part of her desperately wanted to cling to him, but that wasn't fair. She knew Ryker well enough to understand he wouldn't refuse her—his sense of responsibility for what had transpired far outweighed his personal feelings for her or whatever had happened between them. Yet relying on the bond they'd forged wouldn't be fair to either of them right now, no matter how appealing.

She wished she had the wiring to fall back asleep without effort.
Since she didn't, though, there seemed little point in remaining in bed. Izzie tossed her covers aside and kicked her legs over the edge of the mattress. She yawned and stretched, taking in her surroundings. The room looked a little different in the light of day. The walls, which she'd assumed were white, were actually baby-blue and hosted several framed inspirational posters, along with the famed Footprints poem above the headboard. Her bed, larger than those found in the average motel room, was adorned with soft sheets and a few hand-woven quilts. A ratty dresser leaned against the wall to her left; a window was at her right. The room looked domestic and homey, but aside from the clothes she'd stripped and dumped at the foot of the bed, there wasn't anything to indicate the space was used but once or twice a year. No hairbrush or comb or any of the thousands of other everyday things.

Thankfully the dresser wasn
't empty. Whoever utilized the cabin kept a healthy supply of jeans and various t-shirts with company logos. She selected a pair of sweats and a pink t-shirt that read
If You Want The Job Done Right, Hire A Woman
in gaudy block letters, and after unsuccessfully scouring the room for a hair-tie, concluded she couldn't hide forever.

The door across the hall was closed. Izzie stared at it for a long moment before expelling a deep breath. With the sun out, Ryker likely wouldn
't be up for a few hours, which left her with the unenviable task of sorting through the mess of confusing thoughts racking her tired mind. She supposed she could tap on the door and see if he wanted company, but that seemed foolish and desperate. No one she knew wanted company while they slept, and she was the one who had imposed the distance between them for want of discovering which feelings were true and which were fabrications of circumstance. Still, for everything that had happened in the last few days, she liked knowing someone was near. She liked knowing she could turn to him if need be.

Yet she also wanted the comfort of time and space to figure out how she felt about him. About what had happened. About everything.

Izzie snorted in disgust and turned to the bathroom. She tore the drawers open until she located a brush, three packaged toothbrushes, and an unopened tube of travel toothpaste. Behind the mirror sat several mini deodorant sticks—mostly unisex, but she unearthed one that smelled of lilacs. There were also several bottles of aspirin, and though most had expired, one would be good until Christmas. It was good to know, if nothing else.

Feeling more human than she had in days, Izzie wandered into the living room and flopped onto the sofa. On a normal day, she would turn on the television, stretch while catching up on the news or the occasional afternoon soap, and wait until Wright called to figure out what he had in mind for that night
's hunt. Granted, on a normal day, she wouldn't be in the middle of nowhere on the run from the government, shacked up with a vampire who had done more to fuck with her head than a whole team of Briggs-like assistants ever could.

A few days was all it
'd taken to throw everything she knew into jeopardy.

What had happened in the cell felt like a chapter of someone else
's life. The second Ryker touched her, the second she surrendered herself to what she could not change, an inner Izzie she'd never known existed had emerged. An Izzie who needed and yearned, craved something beyond food and shelter, and while that might be ordinary for other people, she wasn't accustomed to reaching for anything she couldn't touch. Wanting someone sexually was a new sensation, but what she wanted was more of the emotions Ryker's caresses evoked than the touches themselves.

She
'd wafted through loneliness so long anything else seemed frightening and unreal. Ryker understood her more than anyone else had ever attempted. He'd been demonized for things he couldn't change, had made decisions he regretted, and had an understanding of humanity not unlike her own. He made her feel safe and calm, and those were things to which she'd never successfully clung.

And she liked him. That was the kicker. Izzie truly enjoyed Ryker
's company, whether or not he breached her comfort zone. She liked the way she felt when he looked at her. She liked the way he kept her on her toes. She liked that he wasn't as tough or hardened as he appeared, and how his eyes betrayed what he wanted to keep secret.