This was becoming a theme with the sorcerer’s errands.
From the smell of things, he’d died quite a while ago. The scent was faint so I doubted a body was still in the condo. If he was already dead, there wasn’t much he could do to me. I doubted the killer was waiting in there for me either. His work was already done. Might as well see what I could find. Maybe my dead contact had a helpful flash drive labeled ‘murder clues’.
I stepped inside and shut the door after me, taking the time to glance around. This was a nice place. I could see why people were willing to pay a premium for a spot in this building. The floors were a dark hardwood, so new there wasn’t a scratch on them. The space was very modern with an open floorplan. You could stand in the kitchen and still converse with people in the dining and living room areas. The kitchen was twice the size as mine, with oak cabinets running all the way to the top of the vaulted ceilings and an island in the middle of the space. Every appliance was stainless steel.
Whoever lived here had money and taste. If the location hadn’t screamed ‘well off’, the furniture would. My aunt had a slight obsession with nice quality furniture, and as a result, rotated her living room furniture out every few years. For that reason, I knew a little about what this stuff must have cost. Nothing in this room was under a thousand dollars.
Well, maybe that book.
Must be nice to be able to afford all this. I’d pinched pennies for so long now I couldn’t imagine throwing a single one away on indulgences such as these.
Too bad whoever owned this place was no longer around to enjoy it.
The smell of death permeated the air, but I was having a hard time pinpointing it. Nothing really seemed out of place. There were no blood stains or broken furniture. I was sure I wasn’t imagining it. Something had died in here within the last week.
A thought occurred that should have dawned on me much sooner. Just because I smelled death didn’t mean that it was necessarily the guy I’d been sent to find who’d done the dying. Perhaps my contact had done the killing.
If that was the case, he might be a little perturbed to find I’d broken into his place. I should report back to the sorcerer and see if he could give me some idea on this new situation.
I took a step closer to the door only to come to a halt as the knob wiggled back and forth. I backed away, cursing myself for forgetting to lock the door behind me.
It swung open before I’d even taken two steps, leaving me facing a familiar pair of blue eyes. I blinked, the surprise I felt reflected on his face as well.
He moved so fast, one hand around my throat before I could even fully process his presence. He slammed me against a wall.
“Well, well. What do we have here?”
His face was only inches from mine as he held me effortlessly off the ground. I struggled, kicking and wiggling. It was no use. His fingers gripped my throat with an implacable steel. He wasn’t budging.
I settled for grabbing his wrists and using some of my own strength to take some of the pressure off. I didn’t know if I could survive if he decided to tear my throat out.
“Which Clan are you from?”
I gurgled, the sound garbled and incomprehensible. His grip made it impossible to form even a word.
“This is the second time I’ve found you at one of my scenes. You’re not one of the Azul, and I highly doubt the Branors would take you for their own.”
I had no idea what he was talking about. I’d never heard of any of these ‘families’ before. He was definitely the vampire from Lou’s. What was he even doing here? No, what was he doing there?
He shook me. Plaster dust rained down as I thudded into the wall. I gurgled and rolled my eyes, still unable to speak.
Abruptly, he released me, stepping back and watching with an arrogant expression as I collapsed against the wall, gasping for air. That was the second time tonight someone had watched as I fought to breathe. It was not a feeling I liked.
When I felt like my vocal cords weren’t in danger of seizing, I said, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
The vampire looked like he’d been turned in his early 30s. His face was young but without that fresh out of puberty look most people in their 20s had. He was attractive. If you saw him in a bar, you probably wouldn’t get the courage to go up and talk to him. With dark brown hair cut short above his ears and cheek bones that could cut glass, he probably starred in many a woman’s fantasies. Right now, his face was smooth and patronizing as he regarded me.
“Your family clan, girl. Which vampire clan sent you?”
Vampire clan. Crap. Right. I didn’t have one. I also didn’t want him to know that. Problem was I had no idea what the families were even called.
“The Starett clan?”
Starett was Jerry’s last name. Or at least the name that was currently on his business cards. In a way he had sent me, and I was part of his organization.
“The Starett’s?” he asked.
“Yup. The Starett’s.”
