“Who found her, Sean?” Luz asks the blond vamp who greeted usHis silver eyes flash.“Hazel. She was out looking for a meal and smelled fresh blood,” Sean answers.
Cristobal leaned against the wall, seeming relaxed yet I knew he was anything but. “How long after the murder?”
“No longer than fifteen minutes after it happened. The body was still warm, and the blood was fresh. She searched the area, but found nothing useful.” Sean shakes his head.
“Are you sure no one saw a thing?” Marcellus inquires.
“Positive. I’ve sent out inquiries. Discretely, of course,” Sean assures us.
“Show us the body,” Cristobal says grimly. We follow him to the large stainless steel door of the cooler. He opens the door, and I shiver as I follow them into the frosted tundra. Hooks and pig carcasses hang from the ceiling. In the back corner, nearly concealed by shadows, I spot the body on a gurney. I don’t even want to know why they have a gurney in here, or how many health code violations this is breaking.
Slender and naturally pale as a redhead, she’s turning a chalk white with splotches of color slowly forming across her collarbones and arms. Her limbs have curved as rigamortis sets in … as if she’s trying to protect herself in death. My stomach lurches. Her milk white skin is still dotted and smeared with old, crusted blood. Her red locks are a matted mess. I can see the tale of a struggle written all over her. She fought him. And yet, she never stood a chance.
Her unseeing eyes are glazed over, but I can see the terror forever imprinted on her retinas. Her face is twisted into a mask of horror. The freckles scattered across the bridge of her nose and along her cheeks stand out like stars on a white canvas. I’ve seen death. It’s natural. An inevitable ending to the life cycle.
Her neck is a mangled mess of torn skin. They tried to latch on and blundered before they found her vein. Two bruised and scabbing holes stand out against the pulverized flesh. There’s nothing normal about this violent rending of the soul from the body.
Disgusted, I wave my hand,
spelling her eyes shut and sealing them to stay that way. She deserves at least this much respect. A resistance pushes back. My heart races.
“She’s been exposed to magic recently, or she practiced herself.”
“That’s an unfortunate development,” Cristobal says softly as he kneels beside the body. His nose twitches. His forehead creases and he leans closer, sniffing. “Impossible.”
“What?” I ask.
Luz joins him. “I don’t smell anything,” she whispers.
“How?” I ask. While their keen sense of smell is disturbing, it serves a purpose. Alerting them to moods, other vampires, and creatures, it serves as a lifesaving tool.
“Witches,” Marcellus spits the word out as if it should start with a b instead of a w.
Cristobal directs his gaze on me. “What do you sense, Louella?”
I focus, looking for a magical identifier. “I don’t recognize her as one of my kind. She wasn’t born with magic. It’s possible she may have acquired some through devote studies and practice, but if she did she was weak, or a beginner because it’s not embedded in her essence.” I pause, examining her further. “Still, it lingers around her.”
“Can you trace the signature?” Luz’s brow furrows and she cocks her head to the side, causing a lock of hair to fall across her forehead.
I shake my head. “No, it’s too faint, and fading faster by the second. I might be able to get more information from the site of the attack. Violence tends to remain longer.”
“Luz. Make a thorough inspection for any clues on her, and then incinerate the body and dispose of the remains.”
She nods her head solemnly. I flinch. Another woman will now go missing, without a trace, leaving family and loved ones wondering what happened, and waiting for closure they’ll never get.
“Take us to the location where she was found.” We split, migrating back the way we came to the car. The feeling of being watched is gone. Did the witch linger to watch us? The thought is unsettling.
I watch the scenery roll by in the car. I’ve always loved the beauty of Louisiana with its lush green vegetation, numerous bodies of water teeming with life, and an indomitable celebratory spirit. Out here we live life to the fullest. As we approach the park, everything I love is tainted by darkness as the park takes on a sinister tone in the moonlight. There are so many places for someone to hide.
“Sean and his team will scout the area and give the all clear for us to leave the car. Percival, Marcellus, I’ll take no chance with Louella.”
“I can take care of myself, you know,” I mumble.
“We don’t even know what we’re up against, and you’ve been out of the loop,” he replies. The casual statement burns me.
Chastised, I bite my tongue. Arguing would only be a distraction, and we need to be alert. I take the time to view the area from a magical point of view. Rapidly dissipating streams of flickering purple are concentrated in one area.
“Whoa. I can see where it happened. It’s lit up with magic.”