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“Stay here,” he says flatly and does a half-turn to step away from me. His eyes never leave me, lips tense and eyes squinting. I do as he asks and let my arms resemble limp noodles. Nowhere near the gun, see? Not an actual threat, just a prepared citizen. Another long look, then he pulls his radio from the belt and pushes the button. “There’s a gentleman at the door looking for a wallet,” he says, lets go of the button and shifts a little as he waits for a reply.
I inspect the surroundings without seeing anything. I’m too busy eavesdropping to spare any attention. I almost give myself away when the crackling answer comes through. “Tell him we didn’t have any visitors all day and send him away,” Arzel simpers nasally. He sounds even worse through the static.
Arzel again. So it really is cultists that Asha visited. My hands feel clammy as I fight the urge to turn tail and run. The smile on my face is a grotesque, waxy imitation of joviality, sickening and painful. I do my best to keep it there as the guard turns around, gives me another once-over, and comes toward me. “No wallet here. Sorry mate,” he says and smiles. Then jerks his chin toward the road, a clear sign I’m not welcome here anymore.
“That sucks,” I say, clearing my throat when my voice wavers nervously. Don’t pussy out now! “Thanks for trying, anyway. Have a good one.”
The guard nods, and I turn back the way I came, keeping my steps calm and composed as my mind races.
The question why Asha is buddying up with god-damned demon worshipers still tumbles through my mind. And why the local supes haven’t yet smoked them out of hiding and killed them all. Them not having summoned a demon yet is not a good enough reason and has never been. Some part of me still doesn’t want to believe that Asha is doing all of this out of her own volition. That she would betray me without consequences. That she would let cultists risk the Contract, the masquerade, for profit. She has the Hunters’ Mark, like everyone else, so it’s impossible. She can’t betray us, it would blow her head clean off her shoulders. But maybe Asha is hexed. Maybe she doesn’t know what she’s doing. Damn it, I simply don’t know enough about this stuff. All the tidbits of information swirl through my head and make it hard to think.
I stop a few feet from the intersection with the main street and take a deep breath. I have to sort this out, or I’ll never get to the root of things. Okay. Asha has some kind of connection to the local synod. We are here because of some murders that the plague the cultists put on a few vampires has caused. A part of me is also wondering if Asha somehow faked the recent death and is actually after Cor, but to what end? The amulets are useless now, and Cor is not the type to just bow his will to a bunch of robed psychopaths. There is a chance I am on the right track.
But what, for the love of all that is holy, could cultists want with a half-crazy vampire? Since vampires are immune to demonic possession—as far as I know—it can’t be about that. But what do I really know about Cor? I know his name and that he has been in a box, and that he’s regarded as extremely dangerous by his kin. That his kiss is not happy about his existence and that they are hunting demons. Which means he also probably hunts—or hunted?—demons at some point. But that leaves a big, big gap in his past that I know nothing about. How would I know if there’s something more to him, something that would explain everything?
Cursing, I slam a palm against the wall. After all the work that I did, I still need more information. Nothing makes sense. Nothing is real. Except if I stop making excuses for everyone. All the worst-case scenarios put together make horrible sense. I just don’t want to believe it yet. I need more proof. Which means I have no choice but to see what Asha is going to do next.
THE BABYLON CITY skyline fills the horizon as the highway dips over the last hill, glittering like diamonds under the morning sun. The high rises stand together like ladies in ball gowns, tittering over this and that as the plebs skitters around beneath their feet. It’s a beautiful sight. Until you’re across the city limits, that is.
I huff and adjust myself, gnashing my teeth harder even though my jaws already hurt more than enough. Asha glances over out of the corner of her eyes and sighs. It’s a tired sigh, befitting the four hours of tense silence and intermittent snark.
“What.”
“When you said you wanted to stake out a potential hiding spot for our serial killer, I was thinking more like ‘sit in a car and watch a specific building’, not ‘let’s go drive through all of Babylon City hoping to spot a rotten vampire’.”
She rolls her eyes. Her knuckles turn pale as she grabs the steering wheel tighter. “If I’d known you’d be this pissy, I wouldn’t have asked you,” she mutters. “No, strike that, I still would have asked you, but I’d have been less nice about it.”
My fingers prickle with the sudden need for violence, so I shove them beneath my thighs. It’s been hours since our little separate stints at the cultist compound. I made it home just in time for Asha to come out of her room and throw me a considering glance. Luckily I had a Coke in my hand that I could hold up as an excuse. ‘See? Just went to grab a drink,’ I tried to say with my face. I’m not sure she bought it. She could have been home for a minute or thirty, and I have no way to ask her if she noticed my absence without making myself look suspicious.
At least she didn’t make any comments or ask questions about my weird behavior. She just handed me the tablet with the newest case we were supposed to work on, and let me look at the pictures. They aren’t pretty; a disembodied corpse in a side street, photographed by CSI personnel, with yellow tape and gasping bystanders included. By the looks of the scene, it must have been semi public. Probably going to be all over the news tomorrow. I have yet to see how this is connected to our rotting vampires or the serial murders that sent us here in the first place, but Asha is convinced. Or a very good actress.
‟I’m just saying, I don’t see how this is gonna help us stop the murder spree. Why don’t we check out the other potential hiding spots that Loreley and Stanley provided us with last time? This is a waste of time, and you know it!”
The hum of the car barely fills the loaded silence, and when Asha stays quiet, I turn my head towards her and frown. Her lips are a tight, white line, eyes spearing the car in front of her as she glowers at everything but me. “I don’t remember you being this bitchy before our assignment.”
“Yeah, well, things change,” I bite back before I can stop myself. Clamping my teeth together before I can spew more acid, I close my eyes and take a deep breath.
She’s right about one thing: I’ve never been one to bitch or whine until now. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Strike that, I know exactly what is wrong with me. I just don’t like it. I don’t like missing Cor’s presence. Missing him. We haven’t known each other long enough for this level of… longing.
Asha breathes deeply and lets out a long-drawn sigh. “Fine, share time.” She eases her grip on the steering wheel and wiggles a little in her seat, forcing herself to relax. “I know you didn’t tell me the whole truth about what went down that night,” she says, eyes fixed on the road. “Your friend Stanley let it slip. He’s the new Babylon City vampire envoy to the Hunter clans thanks to you, did you know?”
My head whips around, and I glare at her. She chuckles.
“Don’t be a hater. He seemed to think we tell each other everything. Got awfully flustered when he realized I did not know you ran into the vampire version of the bogeyman. Clamped up like a prisoner of war when I pressured him.”
Fucking Stanley and his blabbering cakehole. At least he tried to do damage control. “Oh please. That was no bogeyman, no matter what Stanley says. It was just a vampire. And he did nothing except run away,” I grunt and shift slightly to hide the happy bulge growing in my pants at the sheer mention of Cor. My body is becoming an embarrassment, and I don’t like it one bit.
“And yet you didn’t mention him.”
“He wasn’t the target, he didn’t breach the Contract, and he was gone before I decided on what to do with him,” I say, rolling my eyes. At least I don’t have to fake my annoyance with the whole situation. “And I really don’t want to talk about him anymore.”
Asha shrugs nonplussed. “Well, then you’re shit out of luck, because he’s the real reason we’re circling the city right now.”
My heart lurches. “He is?”
Her lips twitch sarcastically. “You’ve got your supe friends, I’ve got mine. A birdie told me that someone— or something—has it in for vampires. There were deaths, very graphic ones. Hard to hide. The community keeps it under wraps at the moment, which is why there isn’t a report of a breach of Contract yet, but I like to be prepared. Ergo ipso, our scouting trip.”
The glistening ribcage in the living room flashes through my mind. Ironic how Asha actually found the one thing Cor might be in fact guilty of. I didn’t get a look at what kind of gore scene Cor left after, erm, eating that person, but I can imagine he doesn’t much care about what happens after a meal.
