Solving the Vampire Murders

forty-three

Torren strung together bits and pieces of he knew about Clint. He knew that Medea's Sin was his club and that Jay believed the vampire was responsible for Davey's murder.

"Preach, girl," Austin snapped. He turned a snarky grin on Clint. "You need to step up your evil criminal mastermind wardrobe. I mean, you look like you tripped outta Sherlock Holmes' closet. And wow, there's even a nerdy side-kick." Austin side-eyed a lanky vampire lurking near the back door who Torren didn't think looked particularly nerdy. "A monocle and a greasy mustache would complete this ensemble."

The vampire curled his lip but otherwise ignored Austin like a tiger would ignore a fly, turning back to Jones. "How's life out on the fringe? I hear you've been scraping by on the side jobs The Guild throws you. Such a pity you have to keep company as base as this."

"Oh, please," Jones sneered. "You've been living off scraps far longer than me. At least I choose to live off the grid."

Torren couldn't place why there was so much tension between the two.

"That's because I know this one." Jones balled her hands into fists, and magical light danced in her eyes. "He's the reason I have a necklace instead of a wife."

A gentle breeze floated past Torren's cheek.

Help.

Mandy. Her voice louder. Clearer.

"Now, let's talk about what this little unsanctioned excursion is going to cost you." Clint was telling Jones. "The Guild won't like to hear about how you lead three of your little friends into my club unprovoked."

Jones stiffened. "Unprovoked my ass. Now, get up outta my way, and maybe I'll consider letting you live long enough to slurp your next meal through a straw."

India, who had been watching Jones with a quiet smile, began pointing wildly towards the bar. Fashionably dressed patrons were looking with curious eyes, but Torren had a feeling that's not what she wanted him to see.

Taking a closer look, Torren saw a dim shade flickering near the bar. Squinting, he saw a woman with long, curly blonde hair dressed in only black undergarments. Even faded, even from a distance, he would have known that woman anywhere.

Help.

Mandy.

His mind reeled with a thousand possibilities. A thousand questions as the shade of his best friend stood waiting for him.

Without thought to the consequences, without thinking at all, Torren sprinted towards the door. Pushing his way past body after body until he reached Mandy's shade. Her pretty face was flickering in and out like an Edison bulb. With care, Torren lifted a hand to her cheek, wanting to comfort her even in death.

She didn't seem to have suffered, save for the deep puncture wounds on her neck weeping like bloody roses.

So it was true. He had lead Mandy to a vampire club, and she was gone.

Her spirit and life drained. Taken from this world before she could blossom. Taken before she had even really lived.

What would babcia say? What would her mother do? What was he going to do?

Help, her shade mouthed.

If her shade was here, then some form of Mandy must still be alive. Even if she had become—one of them.

Torren tried to grab her hand, but Mandy flickered again. A silent scream on her lips as she disappeared.

Torren stared at the place where Mandy had been. His mind as blank as when Detective Wittier slid on those cuffs.