Something was wrong.
Charlie stepped back from the door, his undead heart racing even though it had no reason to beat at all.
This wasn't normal. None of this was normal, but this specific thing, this inability to turn a door handle when his life might depend on it, was a new level of not normal.
Maybe he was just scared. Maybe some part of him recognized that running from Simon was pointless. The hunter had found him twice already. He'd find him again.
That had to be it. Self-preservation.
Or a spell.
The thought came out of nowhere, but once it arrived, Charlie couldn't shake it. A month ago, he would have laughed at the idea. Magic wasn't real. Except a month ago, he'd also thought vampires weren't real.
And look how that turned out.
If vampires existed, why not magic? Why not hunter tricks to keep their prey contained?
Charlie examined the door more carefully. No symbols carved into the wood. No salt lines or strange markings. He ran his fingers along the doorframe, looking for anything that might explain why his body had betrayed him.
Nothing.
The shower was still running. He had time.
Charlie moved deeper into the apartment, searching. If Simon had trapped him here somehow, there had to be evidence. Hunters probably had all sorts of supernatural countermeasures. Vampire traps. Containment spells.
The living room yielded nothing. Just that lonely leather couch and mounted TV. The kitchen, nothing but protein shakes and soy sauce. But in what might have been meant as an office, Charlie found Simon's weapons: stakes, arranged on the wall like art. But also things Charlie didn't recognize—silver chainswith symbols etched into every link, vials of clear liquid that could have been water or acid or holy water for all Charlie knew. A leather-bound book without a title.
Maybe the spell was in there?
Charlie reached for the book, then hesitated. What if it was booby-trapped? What if touching it triggered something worse than just being unable to leave?
But his need for answers won out. He pulled the book from the shelf. The leather felt old, worn smooth as if it had seen a lot of use.
Charlie opened the book carefully.
The pages were covered in neat handwriting, but it wasn't a spell book. It was a journal.
February 3rd - M. Choo, warehouse district. Feral. Three victims confirmed. Eliminated.
February 9th - Unknown female, approximately 200 years. Hotel Grandview. Eliminated.
Charlie's stomach turned as he flipped through page after page of deaths.
Was this Simon's hunting log?
There seemed to be more than a hundred entries! These had been people once. Vampires, maybe, but still…
This was exactly why Charlie needed to run.
The shower shut off.
Charlie gulped and quickly returned the journal to its exact position.Wasit the exact position? Or had it been a little bit to the right?
As Charlie tried to remember, something else caught his eye.
A prescription bottle.
Charlie didn't recognize the label, and when curiosity got the better of him and he held the bottle up to the light, the pills inside looked nothing like medication. They were dark red, crystalline, like garnets or frozen blood.
