But not Mark. He moved fast, especially for someone wearing unbroken leather pants.

The wall stood tall and imposing at the end of the street. Beyond it lay the Wasteland, where monsters roamed freely, uncontrolled, unchecked, unstoppable. That wall was all that stood between this town and an all-out slaughter—that wall and the paranormal soldiers who stood guard atop it. The soldiers watched Mark run toward the wall, and they didn’t even lift their rifles. Their job was to keep the monsters out. If someone wanted to run off into the Wasteland, they wouldn’t lift a finger to stop him, criminal or not. They knew the monsters would get him anyway, and they got paid either way.

We, on the other hand, only got paid if we brought Mark in alive. Which wouldn’t happen if he ran off into the Wasteland. Maybe we could get him before the monsters did, but I wasn’t about to risk our lives out there. I might be crazy, but I’m not that crazy. Not like some other bounty hunters.

Mark jumped into the air, hitting the wall. He was going to climb it. The wall was over thirty feet tall, and he thought he could tackle it with just his bare hands.

Maybe he was right. He was making surprisingly fast progress. Too fast. We’d never be able to overtake him.

I was still too far away. So I pulled out my gun and shot him in the leg. Mark howled, his cry piercing the crickets’ evening song. When he didn’t let go of the wall, I shot him again—this time in the hand. His grip slipped, and he slid down the stony surface. As soon as his feet hit the ground, he spun around to glare at Zane, his eyes pulsing with a distinctive silver-blue sheen.

“A vampire,” Zane gasped inside my earpiece.

Well, that explained his speed.

“His file said he was human,” I said, running toward them.

“Guess it was wrong.”

Fantastic. Mark darted forward, backhanding Zane across the street. My brother hit the ground hard. I lifted my gun to shoot the vampire again, but he was in front of me in an instant. Growling, he knocked the weapon from my hand, then slammed me against the wall.

I kicked and pushed against his iron grip, but he didn’t give an inch. This was why I didn’t fight people up close, especially not vampires. Thanks to my mystery supernatural blood—no one seemed to know what kind of supernatural I was supposed to be—I’m stronger and more resilient than a human. Otherwise, I’d have already been dead. But I was not stronger than a vampire. That was undeniably obvious as Mark’s hand closed around my throat, his tightening grip slowly choking the air out of my lungs.

Then he just let go. His body fell away, revealing Zane standing behind him with a taser. The vampire snarled and smacked him to the ground.

Still coughing out bruised breaths, I pivoted around, looking for something—anything—that could help me against a vampire. I came up short. Paranormal soldiers had potions and guns with magic bullets to help them fight the supernatural baddies. My options were more limited. I grabbed a steel rod off the wall, bracing my legs to free it. As the vampire turned away from Zane to face me, I swung the rod at his head. The force of the impact knocked him to the ground.

He jumped up, enraged, but I was already moving, running toward my gun. I snatched it off the ground and unloaded everything I had into him. If I’d known that I’d be facing a vampire tonight, I would have brought along something more potent than these weak tranquilizers. I wasn’t even sure they did anything to vampires—well, except annoy them.

The bullets did slow him down, but not enough. He rushed toward me, murder shining in his eyes. I avoided the first punch—but not the second. I was too slow. As I turned, his fist grazed my ribs, brushing them. If I’d been a fraction of a second slower, his blow would have broken them. His next punch took me hard in the head. My head spinning, my vision clouded, I tripped to the ground.

I scrambled to my feet, but his hand closed around my leg, holding me down. Scratching furiously at the ground, I scooped up two handfuls of dry dirt and hurled them into those inhuman silver-blue eyes. His hands flew to his face, trying to rub the dust away. I jumped up, ignoring the fresh surge of pain in my side. There would be time to be wounded later—when an enraged vampire wasn’t trying to kill me.

I snatched an old sweater from a nearby clothes line, wrapping it around the biggest rock I could find. Then I swung it at the vampire’s head. He roared, falling back. But before I could hit him again, he jumped up, pushing me and my rock to the ground. He kicked a fresh helping of pain into my side. Then he stared down at me, wiping the blood from his mouth.

“You shouldn’t have come after me,” he said, lifting his boot over my head.

Pain and shock twisted together inside of my stomach. I grabbed his leg, trying to shove his boot off my face.

“It’s a shame really,” he said, his boot pushing harder, overpowering my feeble attempts to free myself. “You’re such a pretty girl. I hate to stomp your skull in.” He smiled wistfully. “But I really must.”

I pushed and kicked and punched with every shred of strength in me. And it didn’t make a damn difference. He angled his foot for a killing blow.

And then he just stopped.

Zane came up behind him, chanting under his breath. The vampire staggered back, holding his head, roaring in agony.

“Stop,” Mark growled, his voice cracking. He dropped to his knees.

But Zane didn’t stop. He continued his telepathic assault. The vampire roared and raged, his wild movements knocking Zane over. Fury flooded me, displacing pain, filling me with strength. I leapt to my feet and tore an old shutter off of a nearby building. Adrenaline soaring, I swung it at the vampire, hammering it straight through his abdomen. Shock sparked in his eyes, then he passed out.