“Are you immortal?” I asked him.
He looked at me for a moment, as if weighing whether to answer my questions. “I don’t think so,” he finally said. “I can eat normal food, and I still get zits and shit, so I would say that I am still aging.”
“Blood?” I asked him.
“Yeah, I still need blood to survive, and honestly, I fucking love it. I don’t want to live forever in this fucked-up world anyway. And also, I can’t imagine not drinking milkshakes.”
A young female Vampire entered the room, looking hardly sixteen, with a loose scarf around her neck barely hiding the fresh bite marks underneath. I stared at her. She must have been a newborn if those bite marks were still healing.
“Kira, baby, who did you get those drugs from last month?” Sable asked her. I figured she must have gotten them while she was still human. If she had been a Vampire, she probably would have been dead.
“I think his name was Sean or Seth or something. Wait … maybe it was Sam,” she answered.
My skin felt tight, and my hands got clammy. Vail locked eyes with me, her face pale.
“Sam? Are you sure it was Sam?” I asked Kira, trying to keep my voice sounding neutral.
“Yeah, definitely Sam,” Kira confirmed, plopping down on Sable’s lap.
“Sam’s just a Slayer in our town. We’ve seen his weapons. They are nothing special, just like normal, mundane shit,” Vail added.
“Well, be careful because apparently he’s out there dealing this stuff,” Sable said, and Vail looked at me, raising her eyebrows.
“Are you sure it was him?” Vail pressed, her tone edging with skepticism.
Kira shrugged. “Yeah, he followed me into the bathroom and sold me a bag.”
Vail leaned forward and narrowed her eyes. “Did he say anything else? Anything about where he got it from or who he’s working with?”
Kira shook her head. “Nah, just handed it over and told me to be careful with it.”
Sable leaned in, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Look, I don’t know what you’re mixed up in, but Idon’t want to be a part of it. Or thisretch.” He said, throwing the drug bag back on the table.
A chill ran down my spine at his words. If Sam was connected to something bigger, it meant our investigation had just taken a dangerous turn.
“Thanks for the info,” Vail told Sable, and she got up to leave.
We made our way back to the car in silence, the weight of the revelation settling heavily between us.
“Sam doesn’t strike me as the type of Slayer who would kill from afar,” Vail said, her hand pressed to her temple, deep in thought. The shock of discovering Sam’s involvement lingered in the air like an unwelcome guest.
“Connor told me that Sam hates Vampires because he blames them for killing his parents, leaving him an orphan. He made it sound as if Sam liked getting his hands dirty when it came to Vampire slaying.”
Vail’s expression turned serious. “You know what I said about telling Connor that you’re a Vampire? Forget it. It’s too risky. Never tell him.”
“I still have to see Connor and pretend like everything’s normal,” I sighed, the weight of the situation pressing down on me.
“True, and we have to figure out how to get into Sam’s house and investigate. Maybe you can get Connor to somehow invite us over to Sam’s?” she proposed.
I scoffed at the absurdity of the idea. “How would I do that? ‘Hey Connor, I know I left town for a couple of days, but maybe I can make it up to you by sucking your dick in Sam’s basement?”
I was joking, but Vail’s expression made it clear she wasn’t amused.
“I’m just saying that we need to getinvitedinto Sam’s house to investigate,” Vail reiterated. “And you are the ticket to make that happen.”
TWENTY-EIGHT
September 25, 1891
