“That doesn’t belong to a human. To whom…or what…? I don’t know. But not to a human. And yet, I felt the traces of humanity behind it.”
“Funny, Sophia felt the same thing about Mark. She had a vision.”
“You’re sure he didn’t give the watch to someone else before his wife gave it to you?”
I shrugged. “I’m not sure, to be honest. Let me text her.” I pulled out my phone and texted Wendy.
did you give mark’s watch to anybody else before you gave it to me? i mean, did you give it away and then get it back to give to me?
A moment later, Wendy texted back. no, it’s his. he forgot it at home the day he vanished. it was on his nightstand.
“She says no,” I said, showing her the texts.
Penn frowned. “I’m not sure what I’m getting, then. It’s as though it passed through at least several other hands.”
“What would you tell a client you didn’t know—maybe thinking about it that way would help.”
She paused, mulling over my question. “What would I tell them? That they made a mistake, or that whoever owned this had been hiding their true nature.”
“And what would you say his true nature is?” I continued.
Closing her eyes, she took the watch again. “I don’t know but…whoever it is feels terribly odd. Almost alien. Maybe a vampire?”
I froze. “A vampire? You think that Mark might have been turned into a vampire?”
“It’s a possibility,” Penn said. “I don’t feel human warmth at all.”
“That would explain a lot,” I said. “If he’s been turned, it might have nothing to do with the group he joined. But it wouldn’t explain why he’s been so distant.”
“What if he decided he wanted to be a vampire and found someone willing to take him on as a bloodwhore? He wouldn’t want his wife finding out, and she would probably notice the marks on him. He might have actually convinced the vamp to actually turn him.” Penn shook her head. “That would explain the distancing and him just vanishing with their money.”
“What about the flier?” I asked.
“It just feels skeevy,” she said. “I don’t trust whoever put up that flier but I can’t tell you why.”
My stomach sank. Though we didn’t know for certain, a lot of unresolved issues could be solved through Mark being turned into a vampire. Afterward, chances were he wouldn’t care that much about his wife—especially if he was already interested in playing with the fanged ones.
“I’ll ask Lazenti for his opinion,” I said, tossing the watch and flier back in my backpack. “Carson’s looking into the temple. We barely found a mention of them on the internet, but when he went into the Dark Web, well…he came up with some oddities.”
“Kyann, sometimes the obvious answer is the right answer. I have the sense that Mark might have been overly interested in vampires for awhile.”
“You know,” I said, “His wife said that he’s been searching for something to give his life meaning for a long time—since he was a child. That he couldn’t seem to find it inside. There are vampires who play on that vulnerability. Maybe the group just gave him something to cling to for a while. I’ll call Lazenti later,” I added. “Meanwhile, you want to watch some TV?”
She shook her head. “No, actually. I think I’ll meditate and go to bed. For some reason, the whole mess with this guy has just depressed me. I do think that you’re right—that it could be a case of someone just wanting immortality or power…It’s too bad he couldn’t find his way on his own, though.”
I stood, ready to go take a shower and go to bed early. “Yeah. And his wife seems so nice. I almost hope we can’t find an answer, because this would be a slap in the face to her.”
“Or it would be closure. Closure’s underrated, even when it hurts,” Penn said. “Anyway, goodnight. I fed Mr. Crumbles when I fed the cats so I’ll see you in the morning.”
And with that, we said good night and I went to take a shower. But I lay in bed a long time before I could get to sleep, as the thunder and lightning continued into the night. Finally, when I did fall asleep, even my dreams were restless.
Morning came and with it, Penn was smiling again. The Fae weathered depression better than most humans, and she identified more with her Fae nature than the human side. She had made breakfast—maple muffins with bacon in them, along with eggs and sausages.
She handed me a plate, as I made a quad shot latte. “Here, breakfast.”
“Thanks,” I said, emptying the milk carton. As I waited for the espresso machine to heat, I peeked outside.
The storm had moved on, leaving a clear day for us to enjoy. The air felt clear, energized by the lightning. I glanced at the side yard where Penn had created a kitchen garden, along with a patch for her herbs and both were thriving. Everything was burgeoning out. The tomato plants hung heavy with the pale orange globes, and soon we’d be eating fresh tomatoes. Lettuce and cucumbers and pumpkins were also growing, and the dwarf apple tree she’d planted was covered with fruit. Everything felt alive, and it was a comfort against the bleakness of last night’s conversation.
