Running in the Dark Read Online Free
thousands to one, and they weren’t exactly popular.
This guy just looked like he was stopping off for a nightcap on his way home. He turned back to the bar and I glanced at Mickey, wondering if she had unwittingly been glamoured by the vampire. She shook her head and pointed farther to my right. A stout man with a mullet glowered imperiously back at us from over an abundance of chest hair. He winked. I choked back a laugh and jabbed the neck of my bottle into Mickey’s ribs. She whimpered dramatically and fell into Carla’s lap.
“If he is a gentleman, then I am a fucking fairy princess.” I downed half my beer and glanced at my watch. Sunrise was just over an hour off. I hadn’t seen Malcolm in three nights, and while I had no guarantee he’d be home tonight, maybe I’d get lucky.
I’d come to Chile with Malcolm Kelly even though I’d only known him for the equivalent of a few days. But those days had been intense, and he’d been watching over me before I even knew I was in trouble. He was resourceful, obscenely good-looking, and funny. He needed to be all those things to balance the fact that he was also a vampire—the one type of male that was off-limits to a runner.
He also treated me better than any living man ever had.
“Mierda.” Glass rattled when Jace slapped her hand on the table. She raised her phone and everyone leaned in to read the screen. Mickey sucked in a breath and angled her head toward me.
“Text from her brother,” she whispered. “Two dead girls. Down in Lo Espejo. Covered in bites.”
Around us, phones beeped and the laughter and drunken end-of-the-night banter dimmed. The fear of vampires, even though we lived alongside them, worked with them, lined up to get into their clubs, never truly went away. Stories of vampire violence were sharp reminders of this and spread fast, riding a tide of subliminal fear. The morning news would run a short segment—approved by the vampires’ PR machine—followed by the reminder that humans still killed humans far more frequently than vampires did. Elsewhere in the world, in places where suckers were not welcomed by the local government, the stories would be angry condemnations.
Mickey raised her beer and whispered something that sounded like a prayer. Bottles and glasses rose and fell quickly. Carla exhaled sharply, shaking her head as she poured another round of shots. The volume around us rose again in hesitant steps, the voices tighter, and I could feel all eyes turning to our corner table. Brujas. Humans doing business with devils. As if the world wasn’t full of human devils as well.
“All right, ladies.” I gathered my bag and dropped a couple bills on the table. “Have another round on me. I am off.”
“You completed your first run with time to spare tonight,” Tilde said in her lilting accent. She stood and rounded the table, the top of her head just reaching my eyes. “That deserves a toast.”
She raised a shot glass and smiled, pale skin crinkling around bloodshot eyes. The job was taking a toll on her. She’d only been in the country two months, but unlike me, she’d come with a recommendation from some top-shelf joint in Scandinavia. It wouldn’t be the first time someone had doctored their résumé, then been overwhelmed by the demands of the job. I raised my beer and smiled back. I had no problem going through her to get Jace’s position. I might even be doing her a service. Runners don’t just burn out. They crash, hard. Better for her to get bumped out of her spot alive and move on to a different profession, something she was capable of handling.
“Cheers,” the ladies screeched before Jace stood on her chair and shouted for the waiter. I set my beer down and settled my bag across my body. Tilde grabbed my arm and I frowned at her until she let go.
“You’ve driven before,” Tilde said.
“Licensed since I was sixteen.”
“I mean to say, this is not your first time running for vampires.” Her eyes
This guy just looked like he was stopping off for a nightcap on his way home. He turned back to the bar and I glanced at Mickey, wondering if she had unwittingly been glamoured by the vampire. She shook her head and pointed farther to my right. A stout man with a mullet glowered imperiously back at us from over an abundance of chest hair. He winked. I choked back a laugh and jabbed the neck of my bottle into Mickey’s ribs. She whimpered dramatically and fell into Carla’s lap.
“If he is a gentleman, then I am a fucking fairy princess.” I downed half my beer and glanced at my watch. Sunrise was just over an hour off. I hadn’t seen Malcolm in three nights, and while I had no guarantee he’d be home tonight, maybe I’d get lucky.
I’d come to Chile with Malcolm Kelly even though I’d only known him for the equivalent of a few days. But those days had been intense, and he’d been watching over me before I even knew I was in trouble. He was resourceful, obscenely good-looking, and funny. He needed to be all those things to balance the fact that he was also a vampire—the one type of male that was off-limits to a runner.
He also treated me better than any living man ever had.
“Mierda.” Glass rattled when Jace slapped her hand on the table. She raised her phone and everyone leaned in to read the screen. Mickey sucked in a breath and angled her head toward me.
“Text from her brother,” she whispered. “Two dead girls. Down in Lo Espejo. Covered in bites.”
Around us, phones beeped and the laughter and drunken end-of-the-night banter dimmed. The fear of vampires, even though we lived alongside them, worked with them, lined up to get into their clubs, never truly went away. Stories of vampire violence were sharp reminders of this and spread fast, riding a tide of subliminal fear. The morning news would run a short segment—approved by the vampires’ PR machine—followed by the reminder that humans still killed humans far more frequently than vampires did. Elsewhere in the world, in places where suckers were not welcomed by the local government, the stories would be angry condemnations.
Mickey raised her beer and whispered something that sounded like a prayer. Bottles and glasses rose and fell quickly. Carla exhaled sharply, shaking her head as she poured another round of shots. The volume around us rose again in hesitant steps, the voices tighter, and I could feel all eyes turning to our corner table. Brujas. Humans doing business with devils. As if the world wasn’t full of human devils as well.
“All right, ladies.” I gathered my bag and dropped a couple bills on the table. “Have another round on me. I am off.”
“You completed your first run with time to spare tonight,” Tilde said in her lilting accent. She stood and rounded the table, the top of her head just reaching my eyes. “That deserves a toast.”
She raised a shot glass and smiled, pale skin crinkling around bloodshot eyes. The job was taking a toll on her. She’d only been in the country two months, but unlike me, she’d come with a recommendation from some top-shelf joint in Scandinavia. It wouldn’t be the first time someone had doctored their résumé, then been overwhelmed by the demands of the job. I raised my beer and smiled back. I had no problem going through her to get Jace’s position. I might even be doing her a service. Runners don’t just burn out. They crash, hard. Better for her to get bumped out of her spot alive and move on to a different profession, something she was capable of handling.
“Cheers,” the ladies screeched before Jace stood on her chair and shouted for the waiter. I set my beer down and settled my bag across my body. Tilde grabbed my arm and I frowned at her until she let go.
“You’ve driven before,” Tilde said.
“Licensed since I was sixteen.”
“I mean to say, this is not your first time running for vampires.” Her eyes
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