2

"Are you vampires?" I asked him, wondering what trap I had fallen into.

"We can't hide anything from you!" he replied, amused. "This is Stéphane Veroni, and in case you didn't recognize me, I'm Nigel Caliene."

He looked confident, as if it were impossible for anyone in the world not to know who they were, let alone fail to swoon over them. Pissed off by their dumb duo, I shrugged my shoulders and stared at him sarcastically, oblivious to caution.

"Because you are famous?"

He looked at me speechless, while Stéphane burst out laughing at his annoyed face. Nigel, clearly offended, puffed out his chest before continuing with disdain.

"I am the most prominent model of this century! I'm one of the richest vampires in New York! The whole world is snapping up our brand! Not to mention that Stéphane is one of the greatest CEOs in New York; he makes the cover of the most popular magazines!"

I looked at him blankly. "And how does that interest me in my everyday life?"

He stared at me with round eyes, completely shocked, opening his mouth like a fish out of water. The situation wasn't progressing; worse, Stéphane extended his hand to grab my wrist with the look of a flirt who thinks he’s caught prey.

I was losing patience. I'm a delivery girl; I'm here to work, not to put up with creeps. The longer I stayed still, the more they felt they could do whatever they wanted. Acting instinctively, I grabbed the thumb that was brushing the skin of my fingers and pulled it violently back. The vampire's eyes widened in surprise as I pushed further and further until he dropped to one knee. I saw utter incomprehension in his eyes, as if he were more surprised that the mouse was attacking the snake than he was bothered by the pain.

Shocked, Nigel rushed toward us. Not daring to break my grip, however, he simply gesticulated uselessly with growing annoyance, while the one in my grasp didn't bat an eyelid, just staring at me.

"You are a crazy child!" Nigel exclaimed furiously. "You're risking your life! Do you even know who you're attacking? He is the Blood Prince of New York!"

"In case you haven't figured it out yet, I don't give a damn! What I do know is that throwing pheromones at someone who doesn't consent is considered hunting! You're risking much more than me on this one!"

I released my grip as the two vampires looked at me dumbfounded. For my part, I tried to keep a straight face, though I didn't really know if the police would actually come to rescue me here. Taking advantage of their shock, I again handed my tablet to Stéphane, who was still on one knee.

"Please sign!" I ordered, hoping it would take him a moment to recover.

Blinking, still stunned, Veroni grabbed the stylus and scribbled on the screen. I snatched it back with a quick gesture before adjusting my company cap.

"Thank you for using Hermès Express," I told them both, smiling while the vampire tycoon looked at me with wide eyes. "Do not hesitate to contact us for future orders."

Delivery person strategy: Remain professional in all circumstances. Always follow the rules.

"However, be more polite next time!" I warned them. "Or you'll take my fist to the face. It will be much harder to make the front page of magazines with a crooked nose and broken teeth!"

I turned on my heels briskly, heading for the elevator as dignified and calm as possible while moving very fast. Once inside and the doors closed, I leaned against the wall, breathing hard as I ran a hand through my long brown hair.

I was close to having a heart attack. I don't know vampires well, but usually, prey breathing their pheromones is paralyzed. This is how they used to eat before the three races signed the pact. I narrowly avoided disaster because I believe Stéphane wanted to make me his dinner.

The doors suddenly opened on the ground floor, making me straighten up like a jack-in-the-box. I still had a lot of work ahead of me; I didn't have time to feel sorry for myself. It was just another misadventure in my hectic life.

At the reception desk, I threw the badge to the outraged secretary, who caught it at the last second, almost falling from her chair. I sneered wickedly as I headed for the exit without slowing down as she lost her temper and started yelling. She went silent before I even walked through the door; her boss was likely coming to scold her for disturbing the hall’s quiet atmosphere.

Without wasting time, I got back on my bike while glancing at my tablet, which told me I had a package to pick up in another neighborhood. I'm glad to be leaving the vampire side of Manhattan.

An hour later, I managed to finish two more runs before deciding that was enough for today. I returned to the depot, which wasn't far from my last client. While putting my bike away, I met Sam, an overexcited and always happy blond. Seeing me, he called out immediately with a big wave.

"Hi beauty! How are you?"

"Good!" I said tersely, hoping to end the conversation quickly.

"It seems you broke the quota again today!" he continued admiringly, looking at the day's data on his tablet.

After each shift, our data is uploaded to the intranet. We are all in competition because whoever makes the most journeys wins a bonus. Around me, I could feel the other couriers giving me acidic sideways glances, annoyed that I'm winning the money again. I know many of them dream of seeing me go under a truck. If they only knew how little I cared about their jealousy.

"Do you still need money?" Sam yelled, snapping me out of my reverie as he slipped next to me.

Sam is one of the few people I actually speak to. "I always need money!" I blurted out, shrugging.

I haven't reached my goal for a new life in Canada yet. There is a background requirement for a visa, especially since I stopped school at 14. As I put my gloves in my bag, he handed me a flyer for a vampiric center.

"You're in Olympic shape; you don't smoke or drink!" he told me. "Maybe you could go to this center; it pays well for high-quality blood! You could even find yourself a regular!"

I groaned. I'd heard of these places—voluntary blood donation for "bloodsuckers." Rumor has it if a vampire likes your "scent," you can extort plenty of money. But I refuse to sell my body in any form. I'm not a commodity!

"Forget it," I told him, pushing back the flyers. "That's not for me. Besides, I'm busy..."

I left the depot to catch the bus back to the Bronx. I allowed myself a 30-minute nap on a bench before getting off at my stop.

I work at a bar—nothing glamorous, just cleaning floors and supplying drinks. It gives me the extra boost I need. I've become a master at finding odd jobs and errands to make money, even if it takes me to unsavory places. My meeting with the two vampires wasn't my worst experience, but I did wonder how I made Stéphane bend so easily. Then, as always, I pushed it to the back of my mind to survive another day.

It was almost two in the morning when I got home to my small studio. I only need a corner to sleep and store my things anyway. I barely set foot inside before grabbing a bag of kibble and a jug of water and heading to the park next door.

It’s the only thing I do that doesn't make me money. It's my personal pleasure.

I took the bowls from a bush, and my companions came running. They are abandoned dogs—big, small, old, and young. I see in their eyes the harm the three species have done to them. I try to appease them with food and affection.

I waited a long time because I've had a new companion for a few days who is very shy. I've only seen him from a distance. He doesn't trust me yet, but he’s coming closer. He’s huge, but very discreet.

The bushes moved on my left. The pack around me changed behavior—some pulled away, others flattened their ears. My new friend is dominant. I sat on the floor, taking a deep breath, waiting for him to show himself.

Finally, the others stepped back. He came out of the bushes, limping with his head down. I knew he was big, but not *this* big. His shadow completely covered me; he was the size of a small pony. His fur was dull and moth-eaten, his sides streaked with scars. He could barely stand. I’m going to need a lot of kibble to fill him up.