Present Day

Portland State College, Genetics Department

12:47 a.m.

My boots skid across the wet floor as I run.

Wet, not from water—but blood. The blood of my two murdered colleagues.

Dark crimson puddles almost propel me head first into the laminate, but I steady myself on the counter’s edge and keep moving.

I can’t fall. Falling would be tantamount to death because their murderer is now hunting me.

The emergency lights illuminate what’s left of the genetics lab after the attack that happened moments before I arrived.

Mere seconds defined the line between life and death. Had I not gotten a craving for a cold soda, I’d be lying on the floor beside them, my throat torn until I would be almost beheaded.

A slam from across the lab has me dropping to my knees. I take shelter behind a workstation and steal a glance toward the noise. There’s someone in blood storage.

He’s here. The man who did this to them.

The side of my hunter’s face comes into view as he saunters down the darkened row. A wide grin reveals a handsome smile hiding the sinister monster beneath. If I saw him in a bar or at a club, I’d probably smile and flirt. His good looks are the perfect way to disarm a woman’s better instincts.

He taps a finger to the DNA sequencer and pauses. “Little rabbit? Where have you gone?”

Shit.

I slip onto my shaky hands and crawl backward, my destination the emergency exit on the far side of the laboratory. I react by pure adrenaline only. Survival mode has taken my terror and focused it toward escape.

He continues his perusal of the lab’s various machines, his hands sliding against every button and surface in an unhurried manner.

The sick fuck is enjoying this.

“Little rabbit, come out, come out.”

I hold back the shutter of my breath as the blue overhead light reveals something that has to be a lie. A trick of the light. What I’m seeing can’t be real.

His eyes glow silver and he’s got fangs.

Not like goofy Halloween fangs seen at a frat party. No—these are bona fide fangs, like he filed down his teeth or had them surgically implanted.

“I can smell you,” he says, as a sharp hiss escapes his blood-covered lips.

Dread twists my stomach into knots. He thinks he’s a vampire. He legit thinks he’s a vampire . . . enough to file down his own teeth. Jesus. Did he actually bite my colleagues?

I blink rapidly, processing what I’m seeing.

“Mmm . . . I can hear your heart.” He licks his lips in a slow circle. “Hear it pounding with fear. Your fear of me.”

My entire body trembles. I clutch my sweat-covered palms over my mouth to silence myself and still the violent shaking.

Breathe, Sasha. Fucking breathe.

If I don’t calm down, I’ll pass out.

“I like this game, little rabbit.”

I have to get out of here. My only chance is the security desk at the end of the hall. What if they’re out on patrol? My heart pounds like a thousand hooves on a racetrack as I eye the distance to the door leading out of the lab.

Can I make it? Do I turn my back on him and run? Can I outrun him?

Every second takes away my option to choose. To my left, I grab a small surgical scalpel off a fallen tray and grasp it with both hands as I rise to my feet.

One chance. That’s all I’ve got.

He turns his head, his eyes meeting mine as I reveal myself. I barely blink before I dart toward the door. He laughs, hanging his head back as he does so, but I don’t stop running. There’s no time to ponder his form of crazy.

I push the lab doors open and sprint down the hall. The alarms blare overhead. The air in my lungs burns like strokes of fire and I scream so loud my voice cracks. “Security! Help! Please!”

I round the corner and stop.

One security guard is half out of his chair, his throat a bloody mess. The other is sprawled near the front doors. Her head is at an unnatural angle.

“Oh my god.” I’m back to running for my life. I look behind me to the hallway and see the man watching me, his head tilted to the side as if he’s studying a modernist painting and not a terrified woman.

Sanctuary lies only thirty feet from me now.

Push, dammit, Sasha.

Twenty.

Breathe.

Ten.

Move.

Five.

Don’t stop.

My fingertips graze the brass handle but it’s too little too, too late.

He’s on me, his hands gripping my shoulders hard enough to bruise. His momentum sends us both flying to the ground sideways.

My chin hits the hard tile with a crack and the air whooshes out of me. His weight is crushing, and my vision blurs. I can’t move with his larger body on top of me, so I draw in what breath I can and scream for help.

“Someone! Please! Help me!”

His fingers tangle in my hair and he pulls my head back before slamming it against the floor. “Stop moving,” he growls, and I go still, blinking slowly, dazed and certain I’m going to die.

I don’t want to die.

I’ve done nothing to deserve this. No one here has. Panic crushes my windpipe and I open my mouth to yell again but no sound escapes.

My attacker turns me over and I’m face to face with his silver eyes once again. His features are now distorted and blurry, but I see the sharp fangs descended from his mouth. He’s at my neck and there’s a piercing pain.

I can’t move.

It’s like I’m paralyzed, completely at his mercy and helpless. I beg myself to awaken from this awful nightmare. It has to be one because this can’t be my reality.

The words of my freshman year’s sociology professor ring truer now than ever. Death. It comes whether we seek it or not.

And the last thing I see before my vision goes black is a smile on his nightmarish face.