The call clicked off, leaving me holding a dead line.
“Gee thanks, Aileen,” I mocked, lowering the phone. “So nice of you to apprise me of the situation. No problem, Thomas. I live to serve.”
I tucked the phone into my back pocket, before stalking over to the chair I’d previously placed under the human pinned to the ceiling. It lay on its side from where I’d fallen off. I placed it upright and climbed on top.
With Thomas inbound, I needed to collect as much information as possible before his arrival since there was a good chance he would try to put me on house arrest after this. Being cut out of the investigation would make fulfilling my promise to Dahlia difficult. Not to mention, I was the one being stalked by his sire.
I wanted to know why. Maybe the dead would be so kind as to provide me with a clue.
Extensive damage had been done to the human’s torso, face and limbs by the fire. It was weird that the improvised stakes had been left untouched by the flames. The ceiling as well; except for a charred ring a centimeter thick outlining the body.
A profiler would have a lot to say about the gruesomeness of this man’s death and the pageantry involved. He had to be at least one hundred and eighty pounds. He would have struggled, so it would have taken work to lift him up here. Even for a vampire.
Then there was the way he’d caught fire after death.
It was so very showy. Not at all in keeping with an ancient in the late stages of devolution.
Devolved vampires were creatures of instinct. The vampire should have drained him before massacring everyone else in the bar. He shouldn’t have been able to control himself around that many potential blood sources.
Instead, he’d targeted this human. Even waiting until the bar was clear before striking. Then upon confrontation, he’d run away rather than attacking.
Though that last part could have been due to Dahlia’s influence. She was scary—and powerful enough that he might not have been certain of victory.
I breathed lightly through my mouth, trying to ignore the nauseating scent of charred flesh. There was nothing else quite like it. The keratin in a person’s hair produced a sulfurous odor that when combined with their burning skin and organs was sweet and putrid. Because of the lipids in fat, it also made the smell thick and cloying. Almost to the point you could taste it.
It was an experience you never forgot. One that lingered in your nostrils for months afterward.
To be honest, the fire hadn’t left a lot to study.
It was impressive how hot it had burned in such a limited time.
A smudge on the man’s hand caught my attention. It was one of the few patches where the flesh was still relatively intact.
Despite my curiosity, I was careful not to touch his hand. A burn victim’s skin is incredibly fragile and has a tendency of sloughing off at the faintest touch.
Not wanting to risk accidentally destroying evidence, I lifted onto my tippy toes for a closer look.
I was right. It was a tattoo. A familiar one at that.
Located in the web of skin between the thumb and pointer finger, it was that of a drawn bow with arrow nocked.
“A hunter.” I lowered onto flat feet. “What were you doing here?”
At a well-known spook bar in the city. Possibly conspiring with the vampire outside.
Was it reconnaissance? Curiosity?
If not for his death, I’d be tempted to attribute the vampire’s murder to him.
Except I knew the vampire was the ancient’s victim as well. The method was too similar to be anything but.
Alches’s chuff brought my attention to him.
I looked down to see a black tentacle set something on the ground before vanishing back into his jowls.
“What’s that?” I climbed off my chair, bending for a closer look. “Is that a wallet? Where did you get that?”
Alches yawned nice and wide, giving me a good look at a row of sharp teeth as his tentacles fanned around his head like some alien movie monster.
