The bedroom door closed behind him, leaving Charlie alone with a pile of stolen laundry and the growing certainty that his unlife couldn't possibly get any worse.
Chapter
Four
Simon's phone buzzed.
It sat on his kitchen counter next to his second protein shake of the morning. Simon had gotten home from the laundromat at 1 AM. It was now 7:23. In those six hours, he'd done two hundred push-ups, cleaned every weapon he owned, and written exactly zero reports.
Now Turner kept trying to call him.
Simon answered on the fifth ring.
"Jesus Christ, finally." Turner sounded exhausted. "What happened last night? You never called in."
"Still pursuing."
A pause. "Still pursuing? You went after him eight hours ago. You always report within the hour."
"The situation was complicated."
"Complicated?" Turner's voice pitched higher. "How does our job get complicated? You find a vampire, you stake a vampire, you file a report. What the hell happened?"
Simon watched condensation drip down his protein shake. "Charlie Dracul got away."
The silence stretched. "He got away?" Turner repeated. "From you?"
"Yes."
"But you've never missed a target."
Simon didn't need the reminder.
Turner almost laughed. "This'll blow Harmon's mind."
"Tell Harmon I'm handling it."
"You better be. You know he's already talking about putting a team on this."
A team. As if Simon needed help catching one pathetic vampire who survived on condiments and rolled around town in a laundry cart. "That won't be necessary."
"Prove it."
The line went dead.
Simon pocketed his phone and got ready to leave. He would find out exactly what game Charlie Dracul was playing with him.
The Stop & Stock squatted on the corner, its neon sign flickering between "Open 24 Hours" and "Open 2 Hours." Through the windows, he could see someone mopping.
The automatic doors wheezed open. Behind the counter stood a middle-aged man with a manager's badge that read "Denton" and an expression that suggested he'd rather be anywhere else.
"Help you?" Mr. Denton didn't look up from his clipboard.
Simon approached the counter, adopting his most professional stance. "I'm investigating a violent incident that occurred here last night. A man named Charlie was seen leaving the premises covered in blood."
Mr. Denton's pen stopped moving. He looked up slowly.
"Blood?"
