The journal spanned nearly two centuries. Page after page of vampiric trances performed, humans manipulated, and ultimately, fortunes stolen. Claudius had documented every victim, every trance, and every single asset acquired. The one journal alone would destroy any defense Claudius’s lawyers attempted. No competent attorney could argue away evidence written in Claudius’s own hand.
Ant photographed each page, his phone’s memory filling with irrefutable proof. His eyes blurred at times, and he had to stop and focus again, but adrenaline kept him going. Each click of the camera felt like another nail in Claudius’s coffin.
January 2019 - Thomas Whitmore (Patricia’s son, investigating mother’s sudden “generosity”). Eliminated threat through extended trance sessions. Subject now believes mother acted of her own accord. Shell corporations remain secure.
October - Ronald Finch.
Ant stopped.
The entry was brief but damning.
Forensic accountant. Discovered shell network through Whitmore family inquiry. Subject broke into study at 14:37 October 14. Photographed safe contents. Terminated October 15, 01:23. Body staged to appear as feeding accident. Pen removed along with handwritten notes. Edmund and Tory assisted with cleanup.
There it was. Premeditated murder documented in the killer’s own hand. Ant photographed the page three times from different angles, ensuring every word was legible. His hands no longer trembled. His fury was fueling him far better than coffee ever could…although the coffee would be nice.
“Ant.” Viktor’s voice carried a warning note.
“Almost finished.” Ant flipped through the remaining pages. There were just a couple, but it showed, even after the police had visited to investigate Finch’s murder, Claudius still kept doing what he was doing. He genuinely thought he was invincible. The only thing Ant was pleased to see was that there was no evidence Claudius had tranced the police officers who did turn up at the estate. There was no mention of them at all.
Ant photographed the final pages, then opened the manila envelope. It contained bank statements and wire transfer receipts, likely supporting documentation for the ledgers, although Ant didn’t have time to check. He photographed them anyway, determined not one shred of evidence would be overlooked.
The three guards in the hallway had inched closer. Ant heard their breathing, the subtle whisper of fabric as they moved. They were maybe ten feet from the doorway now, close enough that Viktor had shifted his weight, preparing to engage.
“Don’t,” Viktor said quietly. “You won’t like what happens next.”
One of the guards spoke up, voice tight with conflicting loyalties. “Lord Claudius gave standing orders about the study. We can’t just…”
“Your Lord Claudius,” Ant interrupted without looking up from the envelope, “is currently restrained in the garden awaiting arrest for murder, financial exploitation through illegal vampiric trances, and attempted murder of a Justiciary investigator. Your standing orders are…” He raised his head as he heard Able barking and quickly photographed the last few pages.
Everything went back into the safe exactly as he’d found it - the Justiciary would want to collect the physical evidence themselves, but Ant’s photographs ensured nothing could be destroyed or altered before they arrived.
“Done,” Ant said, straightening. His legs wobbled slightly, and he steadied himself against the wall. His exhaustion was catching up now that adrenaline was fading.
Viktor glanced back, assessing. “Can you walk?”
“Yes.”
“Can you run if we need to?”
Ant considered honestly. “Probably not.”
“Shit.” Viktor returned his attention to the hallway. “Plan B, then. We hold this position until the Justiciary arrives.”
The guards exchanged uneasy glances. The one who’d spoken earlier cleared his throat. “How long until they get here?”
Ant checked his phone. “Approximately six minutes. Unless they encountered traffic.”
“Six minutes,” the guard repeated. He looked at his companions, then back at Viktor. “Lord Claudius won’t…”
Heavy footsteps echoed from the main staircase. Multiple sets of footsteps.
Ant’s enhanced hearing picked out at least five distinct gaits, moving with vampiric speed. The recovered guards from downstairs, probably. And underneath their purposeful stride, another sound - slower, heavier, and radiating fury with each step. Claudius.That would explain Able’s barking.With no order to attack, Able was simply alerting them that his charges had moved.
“Inside,” Viktor ordered, gesturing Ant away from the safe. “Back wall, behind the desk.”
Ant obeyed quickly, realizing how badly they were disadvantaged. There was only a single exit, with limited cover, and Viktor had to be running on fumes as badly as he was. They’d achieved their objective, but at what cost?
We just have to survive for the next six minutes.Ant might’ve mentioned his magical power levels could do a lot of damage before, but the way he was feeling, he doubted he could so much as light a candle in his current condition.
