Shadow Magic (Darkling Mage 1)

I frowned. “I’m not about to work for your kind.”

The man laughed. “My kind? And what kind is that?”

I shrugged. “The bad guys.” The words sounded stupid to me before they even left my mouth. “The ones who move in darkness.”

Again the man chuckled. “Strange sentiments from someone who literally walks in shadows. Fine trick you have there.”

“Yeah, well. I’m glad I have it or else you might have actually nailed me that night.” This felt awkward, yet correct, somehow, conversing with someone who was planning to suck my blood just nights before. “Where’s the other guy, anyway? The hairy one?” Gil. That was his name.

The vampire nodded at the sky. “Full moon.”

Oh. So he was a werewolf after all. Great. Just great.

The man slid a pale hand into the pocket of his leather jacket, then retrieved a pack of cigarettes. I didn’t know vampires smoked. I realized then that I didn’t know a hell of a lot about much of anything. He offered me the pack. I declined by waving a hand.

“Suit yourself,” he said, lighting the cigarette with a clink of his Zippo. I gestured at his lighter, making a face.

“You’re not afraid of that?”

“What, a little bit of fire? Come on, man.” I watched the ember of his cigarette glow as he took a puff. His skin was flawless in the orange light. I couldn’t help myself. I had to know.

“So,” I said, pointing at my own face. “That just grew back?”

The vampire raised an eyebrow, clearly annoyed, but making an effort not to show that he was. “Yeah. I had to feed, stay low for a while, but yeah. ‘It grew back.’ Pssh. Asshole.”

I shrugged. “My boss only wanted to help me.”

“Yeah, about that. Your boss is kind of a huge bitch. You know that?”

I shrugged again. “You were kind of trying to kill me.”

He raised a finger. “Was not. At worst I would have taken, like, a mouthful of blood. But I’m under strict orders not to hurt you.”

He scoffed again, then brought the cigarette back to his lips. He blew the smoke in slender curls out of his nostrils, in the way that a kid in high school might do to try and impress someone.

“I was just playing with you,” he said, with the nerve to sound hurt. “Was just gonna rough you up a little.”

I shook my head. “Not cool.”

“If you say so.”

I stared at the house for a moment, aware of the dead thing beside me, wondering how it could smoke a cigarette down to a stub without functioning lungs, then deciding that I had a better question to ask.

“Is this weird for you? Talking to me like this. We’re supposed to be enemies.” I shrugged. “Sort of feels like we’re just hanging out.”

The man kept his eyes trained on the house. “I’m off the clock. Sue me.” He cocked an eyebrow, ventured a look at my face, then turned right back to the window. “What was your name again? I forget. My boss told me, but it’s been a minute since that monster you worked for torched my face off.”

“What do you need my name for? Gonna use it against me in a spell? I don’t think so.”

“Dumb-ass. Vampire, remember? I don’t do magic. Don’t need to.” He puffed the last of his cigarette and flicked the filter onto the ground, stubbing it out with the heel of one very expensive-looking sneaker. “Just wanna make sure what to put on your gravestone in case I end up killing you.”

I sighed, and in the same exhalation, gave the vampire my name.

“Nice to meet you,” the vampire said, without any warmth in his voice. He didn’t extend a hand, nor did he give me the benefit of a passing glance. “I’m Sterling.”

“Sterling.” I chuckled. “As in silver?”

“Oh,” Sterling said, cocking his head, his face more expressive than I’d seen all night. “And that’s funny why? Because I’m a vampire? Die in a fire. That’s racist.”