“Did you hear what he did to that woman? Ripped her head clean off.”
“I know, I hope I see some action tonight.”
I look behind me to see two older women talking with their heads bent close over what looks like steaming cups of tea. What the hell is wrong with this town? I pick up my pace through town. They said ‘she’, but who the fuck isshe?
It better not be Maris. If it’s Maris I’m going to burn this town to the ground. It can’t be Maris. She wouldn’t be careless enough to leave her house. She wouldn’t with Rosanna’s lackey on the loose. Maris is too smart for that, or at least I think that until I cross the street to make my way up to Maris’ house and I stop in my tracks.
Rose, lemon, that fucking sandalwood.
I smell her.
She’s fucking outside in the middle of this insane block party Vesper Point is throwing right now. I turn and look up and down the street.
“Doctor Vale?”
I turn to find Janet and another attendee standing close together. Janet has a steaming cup in her hand and a pastry in the other which just plays into the whole macabre festival the town has wholly embraced.
She looks me over and then asks, “Are you okay?”
I know why she’s asking. I just ran to fucking Alaska and back. My clothes are torn and dirty. I look like I’ve been put through the wringer, which I fucking have. Goddamn Rosanna.
I nod at them. “Janet. I’m fine. Just, ah, out for some air. Thought I’d come see what this is all about.”
Janet nods and looks around Main Street. “It’s a little weird but we came too. I mean, I didn’t think this is the way people would react to, well, you know.”
I give her a blank look. “I’ve been busy all day. Haven’t heard the news.”
Her mouth drops open. “But Maris…” her voice trails off and the attendee puts a hand on her arm to stop her.
“Janet, maybe you shouldn’t-” they start but I’m not in the mood for this shit.
“Janet, tell me what happened.” I let my glamour hit her full force. I don’t care if anyone sees it. I might if I was keen on playing the role of the kindly doctor but I’m not. After tonight, Maris and I are leaving this fucking town behind.
“Brian ripped Liz’s head off in front of Maris’ house. He was screaming he wanted Maris. He ran off into the woods and no one has seen him but his friends have been causing trouble down at the newspaper office.”
Relief floods my system. It’s not Maris.
“Have you seen Maris?” Normally, I’d be able to track her right down, but there’s too many scents in the air.
“I heard she was at Moretti’s.”
“What is that?”
Janet points just behind me towards the docks. “A bar down by the dock. It’s the last one on the road.”
She’s barely finished speaking when I drop the glamour and take off through the crowd. I walk fast, fully intending to stay at a human pace but when I turn the corner and Maris’ scent hits me full force I lose the battle. I take off at full speed and shove my way into the middle of the bar. No one even notices. There’s so many people here that I’m just another body. This is the kind of place I would have hunted in for an easy meal when I was bored. Too many people to notice just one missing.
I’m not here to eat though so I keep moving. I catch Maris’ scent under the smell of sweat and sickly sweet alcohol. She’s close by. Her smell is too fresh. I end up on the back patio. It’s empty but at the back of it I see a gate that’s swung open. Thewind shifts when I step out of the patio and into an alley. Maris’ scent hits me full force.
She’s this way.
I make it down the alleyway when I hear Maris scream. “No!”
Rage erupts hot and quick the second I see why she’s screaming. There’s three bottom-feeder vamps on her. Maris is on her back with her arms at her side while a female vampire holds her by her jacket. There’s a gun and a knife on the ground nearby. If Maris reached out she could grab the knife but she doesn’t, her arms don’t move at all. Not even when she turns her head to the side and closes her eyes.
“Julian.”
It’s just a whisper but I hear it. My wife thinks she’s going to die and it’s my name on her lips that she’s decided to use her last moment to utter.
