Page 32 of Blood Vengeance

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Still, Avet hates it when people see a random gay guy and automatically assume the man would be a good fit for him. This is no different.

Sevan nods at us, her long raven hair wound up in a bun with a black ribbon tied in a bow around the knot. Her bright red lipstick draws my attention to the full curve of her mouth. She looks like a ballerina who could punch your lights out if you comment on her cuteness.

So I don’t.

Sevan slings her red backpack over her shoulder, tucking her white t-shirt into her tight jeans. “Morning, guys. I don’t know about you, but I need coffee and like, actual food before we hit the sorority house and start poking around.”

Avet leads the way to the elevator. “Sure. We can stop on the way and grab something to go.”

Sevan doesn’t waffle on her preference. “Maybe you can, but I need food you have to cut with a fork and knife, and coffee that comes in a mug, not a paper cup.”

Avet tilts his head back and groans. “Seriously? I want to get to the bottom of this already. The more days that pass between Cher’s abduction and us finding her, the colder the trail gets.”

“Really?” Sevan spouts back, her irritability flaring. “I had no idea. I was merely thinking of the fact that if I don’t eat actual food and treat myself like a real person, I start randomly stabbing the nearest jackweasel who agitates me.”

I chuckle at her comeback. When Avet frowns at me taking her side, I shrug. “What? Two against one, Avet. We eat breakfast and go into this thing with our heads clear.”

Avet punches the button for the elevator. “I guess that’s one way to do things.”

The breakfast isn’t exactly good enough to warrant the effort of Sevan and I digging our heels in to get said meal, but it’s better than a breakfast burrito that looks like it’s already been chewed before it comes to you. Avet rushes through his meal while Sevan and I eat like normal people, enjoying our coffees and chewing each bite of food before it is swallowed.

By the time I deal with the bill, Avet is practically bouncing in his seat.

“You’re being ridiculous, you realize,” Sevan informs him. “Do you think college girls wake up before dawn and let guests into their home? If we wait until we’ve all had time to eat and caffeinate, everyone wins.”

Avet’s butt leaves the booth the second the waitress comes back with my card. “Good info. Let’s go.”

Sevan sighs, knowing Avet absorbed none of her wisdom.

Avet’s phone rings. “Sargis, what do you have for us?” He turns the volume down but sets the phone on speaker so the three of us can hear Sargis without his voice carrying to other booths.

“Hey, kids. I hope you appreciate how good I am at finding things. It wasn’t easy, tracking down information on the missing sorority sister from a year ago.”

I snort before I offer up a reply. “You are a human computer, Sargis. What did you find out?”

“Zagiri was pre-med, just like Cher. In one officer’s report, her roommate told authorities that Zagiri was increasingly secretive. She became obsessed with chemistry but started failing her classes.”

I lock eyes with Avet. “Same thing Cher documented in her diary. She started failing her classes, too.”

Sargis seems to be thinking the same thing. “Exactly. According to the roommate’s statement, Zagiri would spend her evenings at the lab, but not working on her assignments for school.”

It’s good information, though I’m not sure how it’s going to help us track her down.

Sevan bobs her head. “Zagiri is most likely dead if she’s been missing for an entire year.”

I like that Sevan doesn’t pull her punches, but Avet doesn’t want to hear anything that might even be close to hinting at Cher not being alive.

Avet leans forward, massaging his temples while Sargis speaks to us. “The trail has been cold for a year, so it would be a long shot if Zagiri was found alive. If Cher and Taline went missing in much the same way Zagiri did, there are clues in all three abductions. Each of them needs to be investigated.”

It was the plan anyway, but good to know we’re on the right track.

Sargis clears his throat. “One thing I found that surprised me, though,” Sargis pauses for effect, “Zagiri’s grandfather. I know him. Well, I know of him, anyway. He is responsible for killing the werewolf who murdered all the children in the Gregorian Village.”

I cringe when the details of that story surface in my memory. “I remember that. I wanted to go out there and hunt down the werewolf responsible, but you wouldn’t let me.”

“You were fourteen,” Sargis reminds me.

I smirk at the argument that lasted an entire weekend, back when I was a bullheaded teenager who thought I had all the answers.


Tags: Mary E. Twomey Paranormal