The night air in Crime Alley was the kind of cold that bit through Kevlar. Jason had been out for hours, muscles tight, brain running on caffeine and stubborn spite. Gotham felt restless tonight. Too many shadows moving where they shouldn’t, too many eyes watching from alleys where no one was supposed to be.

It happened fast. One second, he was about to drop in on what looked like a mugging. Two figures struggling against the flickering orange spill of a streetlight, then the victim was gone and it was on him. Jason didn’t get a good look, just a flash of pale skin, a flicker of something almost graceful in the way it moved, and then...

Teeth.

Not the sloppy snap of a desperate street thug, but precise. Surgical. They sank into the side of his neck, cold and deep, before his brain caught up to the pain. He grunted, drove an elbow back hard, and felt something give. His attacker staggered away into the shadows, vanishing like smoke.

Jason stood there for a second, breathing hard, one hand clamped to the wound. His pulse felt wrong, too loud, too slow and the bite burned in a way that didn’t feel like any injury he’d ever had.

He should have chased it. Should have called it in, or at least patched himself up at the safehouse. But instead, he found his feet carrying him home.

The apartment was dark except for the thin line of light under the bedroom door. Jason fumbled with his keys, his hands wouldn’t stop shaking, and stepped inside, telling himself it was just adrenaline. Just a bad night. Just another injury.

The bedroom door opened before he could call out, and she was there. Same hoodie she always wore when she stayed up late waiting for him, hair a little messy, eyes warm and tired in the way that made his chest ache.

She stepped closer, and the scent of her shampoo, lavender and something sweeter underneath hit him like a gut punch. His stomach twisted, but not in the way hunger usually did. It wasn’t about food. It was something sharper, needier, wrong.

Her gaze flicked to his collar, and her smile faded. “You’re bleeding.”

Jason swallowed, resisting the urge to back up. “It’s nothing. Just—” He stopped.

Because suddenly, he could hear her heartbeat. He could smell her sweet, sweet blood.

It was faint at first, just a thud in the background, but with every second it got louder, syncing with the ache in his neck. His mouth felt dry. His jaw tightened. His fangs ached. Oh how badly he just wanted to bite that pretty little neck. Wait what? What was he thinking? Fangs? He used his tongue to feel around his canines as they seemed sharper than normal.

She reached for him. “Let me see.”

Jason pulled back and forced himself to look at her face instead of her throat. “It’s fine. Just a scratch.”

She gave him a look that said she wasn’t buying it, and he found himself wondering if just for a second, what it would feel like to close that last inch between them, to bury his face in the curve of her neck, to drink her blood. God he was so hungry. Wait- blood? Why was he thinking of drinking her blood? What was happening to him?