Day Reaper by Melody Johnson

Author:Melody Johnson
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kensington
Published: 2017-12-19T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter 17

“I can’t print that article, DiRocco. Have you lost your mind along with your humanity?” Carter bellowed. His words and the underlying bass drumbeat of his anger pounded a double-jackhammer rhythm into my already aching head.

Carter Bellissimo, editor in chief of the Sun Accord and my prickly boss, scowled at the pages I’d tossed on his desk, his thick eyebrows nearly merging into one, disapproving bush over his eyes as he read the headline: Vampires Bite in the Big Apple. I supposed, considering the Sun Accord no longer had a staff and the paper hadn’t gone to print in eight days, that Carter wasn’t my boss at the moment, but standing in his office defending my work, like old times, I could imagine a full bullpen behind us. Any other day at this bright morning hour, Meredith would be at her cube, craning over the dividers to gauge Carter’s reaction to our latest stunt. Other reporters and photographers would be making mad dashes from their computers and out the door to follow leads, talking on their phones to contacts and witnesses, and doing whatever needed doing to make deadline.

Today, however, the building was a ghost town. The bullpen was deserted and Meredith was at the lab, helping Dr. Chunn with her research instead of helping me convince Carter to go to print. Meredith was still on our team, I reminded myself, even if she wasn’t my partner anymore. I tried to feel buoyed that I hadn’t lost her entirely—she was alive and healthy at least—but we hadn’t talked since my transformation, not really. She hadn’t said that she was happy to see me alive and healthy. She hadn’t embraced me, like I longed to embrace her, and I hadn’t felt anything besides caution, hesitation, and fear when she’d declined my request to come with me to confront Carter.

Maybe her silence was more telling than anything she could say. Maybe my transformation had changed more than just my person and had irrevocably altered my relationship with Meredith.

Maybe Meredith wasn’t my best friend anymore.

Carter looked up, transferring his frown from my article to me. No matter my transformation or his empty bullpen, Carter obviously still considered himself my boss.

I jabbed my finger at the article, moving it subtly closer to him. “Questions of humanity aside, I’m still me, and this article is dynamite.”

“Yeah, dynamite in my closed fist. No thank you, DiRocco.” Carter leaned back in his chair, creating more physical distance between him and the article, and if I was honest, between him and me.

I raised my hand to indicate the empty cubes through the floor-to-ceiling windows behind us, ignoring his wince at my too-fast movements. “Why? Because you have so many other, more compelling stories to choose from this week?” I snapped.

“Don’t,” Carter said, his voice brooking no argument. “You don’t get to be flippant about the destruction of New York City. Your friends killed my reporters. They killed my photographers, my contacts, and my printers. They killed my

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