Page 119 of Vameer

The view wobbles as the man turns toward Rune’s building.

“That’s the girl’s apartment.” A hand lifts to point at a gaping hole in the upper level of the old home. “Below is The Gallery, and that’s where two of the bodies were found.”

“They were killed in the shop?” I step closer to the TV, looking for damage but seeing none to the front of the shop.

“I can’t say for sure what exactly killed them, but it appears as though they were… uh, forced through the floor.”

“Say that again.”

“There are two man-sized holes in the floor of the apartment, over where the bodies were found in the shop. Like they were thrown through the floor.”

I set my mug down and trade it for the whiskey bottle. “So when you said you don’t know what part killed them….”

“The vampire. The layers of the floor. The display below. Whatever the proximate cause of death, the result is a body with no bones left.”

“No bones?”

The angle shifts, like he’s shrugging. “None intact.”

The lackey makes a sound like he’s trying not to gag.

I keep my eyes on the screen but point the bottle at him. “If you puke in my conference room, I’m going to have you transferred.”

“Understood, sir.” His voice is almost steady.

The camera man clears his throat, and I suspect he’s covering a laugh.

Surrounded by idiots and psychos. Perfect.

“We can come back to these two,” I tell the camera man. “Go to the others.”

The view bumps as he turns back to the activity on the sidewalk opposite Rune’s home.

A few people in full hazmat walk past carrying a stack of folded body bags, and something metallic bounces across the pavement with his step.

I narrow my eyes as he approaches the activity. “This the other six?”

“Yes, sir.”

“What happened to them? Every bone broken?”

“Not exactly…” He steps to the body at the end of the row and angles his head down.

“Is that…” My brows lift. “A pair of legs?”

“Yup.” The camera man turns his head, changing the view. “That’s the top half.”

The lackey groans and drops his forehead to the table.

I take the top back off the whiskey bottle. “The other five?”

The camera pans slowly, showing the row of bodies. All sliced in half at the waist.

“What the hell were they cut with?”

“Not a clue. They’re starting to bag ’em up for the lab.” The camera man, who is apparently not grossed out by anything, crouches. “If you look closely, you can see some burn marks.”

The lackey groans again.