Total pages in book: 122
Estimated words: 116618 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 583(@200wpm)___ 466(@250wpm)___ 389(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116618 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 583(@200wpm)___ 466(@250wpm)___ 389(@300wpm)
“Cursed?” I repeat. “You see this as a curse?”
He grimaces. “If you’re unlucky enough to fall in love with a human, then yes, it’s a curse.”
“This person you lost…” I begin.
“They…she…is irrelevant right now,” he says. “We’re talking about you, darling. If you fall in love with this Callahan, then don’t resist it. Hang onto it. He will come around eventually, if he’s not already there. Who knows, you might be the key in bringing his two halves together. And if takes time, so be it. You both have all the time in the world.”
We walk further down the beach, away from the house, the fog thickening again as we near a rocky outcropping.
“But others don’t,” I eventually say. “If the Ivanovs are behind the murders, then they’ll strike again.”
He casts me a furtive glance. “This sounds like a problem for humans, not for us.”
“Betty was my friend,” I tell him sharply. “It became my problem when one of my friends was murdered.”
His mouth twitches in sympathy. “Perhaps I misspoke. It’s not a problem for us anymore. I’m sorry they killed your friend. But we are not involved. This is between them, not us.”
“But if the Ivanovs did it, they are us. They’re vampires. I know the rules. I know that we all abide by them so that we don’t cause problems, so that we stay out of trouble, so that we don’t draw attention to ourselves. But they’re breaking the rules, clearly. They’re serial killers. They’re making the whole world look our way. And for what? For what reason?”
“I have my theories.”
“Which are?”
“The Ivanovs are old blood,” he says thoughtfully. “Russian nobility that have been around since the first age of Skarde, mingling between the worlds. Once they were fully expelled from the Red Realm, they fled to Europe, then to New York. Then here. They brought arcane knowledge with them, practices that blended vampire abilities with something darker.”
“The magic you and Abe were talking about.”
“Of a sort. Certain vampire bloodlines maintained connections to pagan practices, rituals that could amplify our natural abilities.” He pauses, looking out at the misty horizon. “I’ve encountered the Ivanovs before, you know, centuries ago. We ran in the same circles, as ones does when you’re all vampires from the same area.”
“And were they the type to start murdering random women in a horrible, ritualistic fashion?”
He gives me a cold smile. “Oh yes. But make no mistake, there’s nothing random about the murders. Each one was chosen for a reason. And whether the Ivanovs did it for some sacrificial reason, or it was simply a deranged human, we need to figure out what that reason is.” He pauses. “It’s a good thing Callahan is already on the case. Seems like the type to get things done.”
“He is,” I say.
But that doesn’t make me worry any less.
“Would you be able drive me back to my apartment?” I ask Valtu.
“Now?”
I nod. “I want to get my stuff, while we still have daylight. Feels like I won’t be ambushed with the world out and about.” Even though that didn’t stop Cohen’s thugs from throwing acid in my face in a busy hotel bar.
“Guess you’ll be moving in here.”
“Guess so.”
Guess I’ll be saying goodbye to another part of my life.
Two hours later, Valtu and I are standing on the hill outside my apartment building, the mid-day sun casting harsh shadows on the façade that had once felt like home. The building seems different now—a reminder of a life I can no longer return to, of a career that might be over.
“Stay behind me,” Valtu says quietly as we enter the lobby, his aristocratic features tensing. “Just in case.”
We climb the stairs silently, Valtu moving with the fluid grace of centuries of predatory experience. At my door, he pauses, nostrils flaring slightly as he seems to listen.
There’s someone inside, he projects inside my mind. At least two of them. They’re looking through your things.
I nod, stepping back as Valtu places his hand on the doorknob.
Try not to break the door down, I quickly tell him, thinking of Callahan’s damage. I had to pay my landlord through the nose to replace it.
He nods and with a swift, controlled motion, he breaks the lock and pushes the door open in one smooth movement. Least it stays on the hinges.
Two men in grey suits spin around from where they’ve been ransacking my living room. One reaches for his gun, but Valtu is already across the room, moving with supernatural speed that makes even other vampires look sluggish. He grabs the first man by the throat, lifting him off his feet with one hand while the other disarms him.
The second man manages to fire a single shot before Valtu is on him too. The bullet grazes Valtu’s shoulder, barely drawing blood, nothing that won’t heal in minutes. With efficient brutality that speaks of countless battles across centuries, Valtu slams the man’s head against the wall, leaving a crack in the plaster and the man unconscious.