James follows me in the bathroom of the nightclub, leans against a stall, and opens that damn crow's mouth of his. How great; I can't even take a piss in peace now.
"Is it me, or have you been avoiding your husband?"
"I'm not."
"Uh-huh."
The skepticism in his voice is strong, but whether he believes me or not, I don't give a shit. If I say I'm not avoiding Jordan, then I'm not.
"Did he do something bad…?"
"Of course not."
I swear, his habit of probing for an answer in a roundabout way is starting to grate on my nerves. Things can get awkward between a married couple without one of the people involved having done something bad—wait. Scrap the couple part. We're married, but we're definitely not a couple.
Ignoring James's probing gaze, I quickly wash my hands and gesture for him to follow me out of the bathroom.
Admittedly, I've been sticking to his side tonight instead of Jordan's.
…My husband must have noticed, but he hasn't commented on my sudden change in behavior thus far. No, he's been behaving the same as always.
To be fair, the guy never comments on what I do. He just follows along with a smile.
"You've got to be shitting me—these brats are at it again?!"
James's roar snaps me out of my thought, and I direct my gaze toward a group of people, who seem to have spiked a girl's drink and are directing her to an exit. They're already out when James gives chase, telling me to wait here.
But I can't wait.
Amid the group of male vampires, there's also a kobold. I've seen the shadow of the unmistakable reptilian tail flapping behind him.
A bad feeling surges in my stomach. Something's off. Terribly off.
I run through the crowd after James, patting my pants pockets in search of my phone, and I can't frigging find it. Where the heck is it?! And then, a flashback pops into my mind.
Shit. I've forgotten it on the counter.
Talk about a stupid rookie mistake; now, I can't even warn Eve or Jordan. I've been too distracted by personal affairs. I could have laughed at my pathetic ass if the current situation hadn't been so dire.
"James! Wait!"
He doesn't wait, waving for me to stay back. This idiot…! But of course he won't wait. In his eyes, all he's seeing is a few of the youngsters from his clan acting like troublemakers again. He has no idea there's a kobold in the lot, and he doesn't know what that implies.
Gritting my teeth, I clench my fists and follow them outside.
"Stop right there!"
James's shout reverberates through the alley, yet the men don't stop. Although they do ditch the woman, and not so gently at that. On the bright side, she's so far gone that she barely registers crashing into the brick wall and limply slumps on the cobblestone pavement, giggling.
James glances over his shoulder, telling me, "Stay with her! I'll be right back!"
"You fucking idiot—"
He's running straight into an ambush, and he's got no idea. The dumbass is not listening to me at all, focused on the youngsters in front of him. I'm about to pull my hair out. That's the goddamn problem with powerful beings like James: they have no self-awareness of what they perceive as too weak to pose a threat, like youngsters barely out of their diapers.
It'd be another story if he knew there was a kobold in the lot. But I can't tell him that; that's too dangerous for my well-being. I can't trust James with my secret, unlike Jordan and Eve.
So, the only thing I can do is gesture at a group of girls, who appear to be sober enough to understand that something's amiss, and point at the gigling woman. Thank God, they're quick to act and scramble toward her. That's off my mind, and I can concentrate on the matter at hand, aka the dunce before me.
Even if he's the vampire heir, he's not invincible, far from it, and I've got to chase after him. Or I fear I'll have another burial to attend to.
Melissa's is in two weeks. I don't need another one after that, thank you.
"James! Shit, stop! It's an amb—"
Not listening to me, the vampire disappears at an intersection, and I've got to push my legs to move faster. The regimen for hunters might be hellish, and I'm in a frighteningly good shape, but at the end of the day, I'm still human.
I'm not crazy enough to believe I can compete with vampires and kobolds in a running race.
"I'm telling you to wait—!"
The words get stuck in my throat as I turn into the alley, not even a heartbeat after James—oh, shit.
My eyes widen, and I've got this extra second to think but not to move, courtesy of the adrenaline rush.
In an instant, everything becomes crystal clear, as if someone has pressed the slow-motion button. Be it the fast-traveling javelin directed at my chest, or James's pinched lips as he veers on his heel, throwing himself between me and the sharp blade, I see it all happening.
No way. Is he planning to…?
A second later, time regains its usual course, and James falls into my arms with a grunt, the javelin impaled into his chest, having pierced through his back. The pointy blade grazes my arm, but I barely feel it.
The momentum has made me lose my balance, and we've fallen on the ground: me on my butt, and him on his knees.
"James…?"
"Shit, that hurts."
The guy laughs.
He's frigging laughing as he grips my shoulders, holding onto me not to collapse. Blood is dripping, but not gushing out; the javelin is still embedded in his chest, acting as a buffer. If it had passed through…
I don't want to think about it.
"What are you doing? Get up and run already. My heart is touched. I won't be able to protect you."
His heart is touched…?
Wait. His heart is touched?!
Holy shit—! In what state is it?!
"Y-you…"
"I'll be alright, don't worry." He coughs up blood but offers that irksome smile of his. "Come on, run!"
Alright my ass! A vampire's life is directly related to the state of their heart! Vampire heir or not, James is not exempt from this rule. Wait. How on earth did a mere javelin manage to do so much damage to start with—
"How touching."
A cackle resounds, and I lift my eyes to meet those of a man. The fiery red eyes stun me, and my whole body stiffens. I've got to resist laughing out of derision. This whole shitshow, this whole goddamn murder spree, is nothing more than a cover-up for an internal strife, isn't it?
"I don't think he'll let me leave…"
Considering he's showing me his true form, he's definitely not planning to let me go, not alive at least.