Nightfall (Grim Gate 1)

Something rustles in the overgrown flowerbed of the storefront next to me. Sucking in a breath, I jump, turning with wide eyes. A car drives by, blasting its music, right as whatever is lurking in the dark growls.

Fuck.

I run across the street as soon as its safe, heels catching on the uneven sidewalk. I regain my balance before I fall. Heart hammering, I stop and turn around, looking at the flowerbed. Why am I running? That thing attacked me. Scared my horse. And would have done much worse if it were able.

Running away isn’t going to solve anything. I have to face it and then…I don’t know. I’m drunk and it sounds like a good idea right now. Balling my fists I take a step forward. I make it two more steps before I sense someone behind me. I come to a sudden halt, and shoes scuffle on the sidewalk behind me.

Oh, shit.

Lips parting as my breath leaves in a huff, I slowly turn my head, looking over my shoulder.

The shadowed outline of a man comes into view. “Hey,” he says, deep voice rattling right through me. “It’s not safe to be walking out here alone.”

Chapter Five

“Seriously?” I spit and whirl around so fast my heel catches on the uneven sidewalk. The man behind me rushes forward, catching me before I fall. It’s not until his hands wrap around my waist that I realize what he said sounds like a line right out of a horror movie.

“Yeah,” he says, brown eyes meeting mine. “Seriously.”

I push off his firm chest, trying to stare daggers at him, but my drunk mind gets distracted with his stubble-covered sharp jawline.

“Especially dressed like that,” he adds, full lips pulling into a smirk as he runs his eyes over me.

“Okay, Mom,” I say, narrowing my eyes and crossing my arms. I’m wobbling as I stand here, trying hard not to notice how attractive he is. He’s tall and muscular, dressed in a dark blue t-shirt, jeans, and a black leather jacket.

He takes a step forward, eyes darting around as if he’s looking to make sure no one is watching. I jerk back, tripping over the same crack in the sidewalk.

“Goddammit,” I grumble, throwing out my hands and recovering my balance on my own this time.

“Are you okay?” the guy asks, inching closer still. Fuck. There’s a very real possibility that he’s a vampire, and as much as I’ve wanted to meet one, I’m suddenly terrified. My pulse bounds, and in the back of my mind, I know he can hear it.

“Do I look okay?” The words tumble out of my mouth on their own accord. A car drives by, going a good twenty over the speed limit with music blaring. There’s a good chance I’m going to die out here, and the people in that car didn’t even notice me.

“Not really,” he answers, and motions to a bench a few yards away. I sway on my feet again, regretting downing my drink as I angrily stormed out of the bar. “Maybe you should sit down.”

“With you?” I retort. “How do I know you’re not a psycho killer?”

“And how do I know you’re not?” His lips pull into another smirk and, dammit, he looks absolutely charming.

“I suppose you don’t, and after the day I’ve had, it probably wouldn’t take much for me to lose it and bludgeon someone to death. Though I need something to do the bludgeoning with.” I look around for something—anything—to use to defend myself with. The world swirls around me and my stomach churns. I really shouldn’t have had that last drink.

“Your shoe would work, and if you hit hard enough, you could do some stabbing with those heels.”

I look down and start to lose my balance again. The guy reaches out, fingers wrapping around my arm to steady me. His skin isn’t exactly warm, but it’s not cold either. I’ve heard people describe vampires as feeling cold, but really, they’d just be room temperature since their bodies don’t produce any heat.

“I’m Ethan,” he says and lets his fingers slide down my arm.

“Anora.”

“Is there anyone you can—” He cuts off abruptly, looking behind him. Something scurries in the dark parking lot of a bakery behind us. I blink and get a flash of that dog creature again. “You can call?” he finishes. “To take you home, I mean.”

“Yeah, I’m going to call an Uber.”

“I’ll wait with you,” he offers. “Or take you home.”

“I’m not getting in the car with a stranger.”

“Isn’t that exactly what you’re about to do with the Uber?”

I narrow my eyes. “It’s not the same. There’s proof I got in the car from the phone records.”

“Phone records?” He runs a hand over his head, ruffling his brown hair.

“Yeah, it gets recorded on the app that I requested an Uber and a certain driver responded. App records maybe? You know what I mean.” My eyes fall shut in a long blink as I wait for a wave of nausea to pass. Sitting sounds like a good idea right now. Inhaling, I look at the bench and start to walk forward when a dog barks, making me jump. Nerves prickling, I turn around and look in the empty parking lot with wide eyes.