Page 8 of Fangs and Family
‘What did you do to me? How do you make me feel so alive again? You are my Obsidian, so brittle I could crush you by mistake and so sharp that your smile can cut me open. You make me feel vulnerable, Nina, and I don’t know what to do with that,’ He’d said, leaving me speechless.
Fuck, I did it again. I thought, replaying that scene like a bad commercial that I couldn’t get out of my head. However, those moments weren’t enough to make me forget he was a vampire who enjoyed the pleasures of the flesh a little too much while I was a mundane human.
Adam had proposed turning me, but I refused. Submitting myself to anyone’s dominance and control was not on the menu, not even to Adam’s. He was a Master of Tricity Seethe. All the vampires bowed to him, showing almost unquestionable obedience, and if I were to be a vampire, he would be my master, and I would bow to him.
Romancing your boss would be a helluva conflict of interest, but without the transformation, all I would ever be was another fling in his long, immortal life. I can’t go through that shit again. I just can’t. Even the comfort he brought was not worth it.I thought, pulling my gloves off.
A sharp knock on my door startled me, and without a second thought, I went to open it. Two sombre-looking men stood in front of me. Their eyes assessed me from top to toe before their gaze finally fixed itself on my face.
‘Mrs Zalewska? Nina Zalewska?’ Asked the taller of them, and I nodded in confirmation.
‘Could we have a moment of your time?’ He asked, flashing his badge and pushing forward to enter my apartment.
‘Until you tell me what this is about, there’s no way I’m letting you in, and I want to see your badge properly before you start if you please.’I said, putting as much displeasure in my voice as it was possible. It wasn’t difficult, as I was still on edge.
‘Of course, Mrs Zalewska, my apologies. Here is my badge. We would like to talk to you about your brother,’ answered the shorter male, placing a hand on his counterpart’s forearm.
Perfect. Now, I knew who’d be playing good cop.I thought, examining the warrant card that proved their identity and rank in the police force after he pushed it under my nose. One way or another, I had to let them in. I needed to know. Whatever trouble my idiot brother got himself into, I needed to know, and maybe, with a bit of luck, I would be able to help him.
I gestured to the policemen, pointing to the sofa and bracing myself before I asked the question.
‘What did he do this time?’
‘We were hoping you could tell us, Mrs Zalewska. Our colleagues from South Poland sent an alert that he might be in danger. We would like to find him and ask him a few questions regarding his recent whereabouts.’ Mr Good Cop said, looking around the room while the others’ gaze stayed glued to my breasts. I looked down, only now realising that my sports bra left little to the imagination, and with as much dignity as I could muster, I went to grab my discarded shirt.
‘First, it’s Ms Zalewska. Second, why ask me? I’m sure whoever Pawel’s been mooching off would know more about his whereabouts than I would. I haven’t seen him in ages, two years at least.’
‘The men Mr Zalewski was seen with are dead, I’m afraid. Dead and gutted like sacrificial pigs, so I suggest recalling when you saw your brother last because it might just save his life.’ Mr Bad Cop stopped staring at my tits long enough to threaten me. I think I preferred it when he was preoccupied with the puppies to this.
‘Gutted?’ I asked because Pawel, even unhinged as he was, didn’t hang around with killers. He was more hedonist than fighter, always seeking pleasure in life; even his loan shark never threatened violence.
‘Yes, gutted. Drained of blood, hung upside down with an open abdomen and strangled by their own intestines like they wore a bloody necklace, and the only connection between all five was your brother,’ said Bad Cop, grimacing. ‘I saw the pictures, Miss Zalewska. Gutted is the only way to describe what was done to those poor souls.’
‘Oh, fuck!’
I must have looked like I was going to black out because the shorter man rushed over, grasping my arms before lowering me to the armchair.
‘Can I get you some water, some tea?’ He asked as I struggled to contain the sudden panic attack.
‘No, It’s fine. Do you know who did it?’ I asked, but both men shook their heads.
‘No, that’s why we want to find your brother. This looks like a mafia vendetta. It was meant to send a message, especially considering those men were no saints. Burglary, larceny, and even the desecration of graves.’ The shorter man said, finally releasing my arms.
‘I don’t know where Pawel is or how to find him, but if he contacts me in the future, I promise to let you know.’ I answer curtly, now in control of my breathing and eager to get them out of my apartment.
‘Are you sure you don’t have any information we could use?’ The nice one asked again, but I had already stood up.
‘No, as I said, I haven’t seen my brother in ages,’ I reminded them, walking toward the door and opening it. ‘I will contact you if I learn anything. For now, please leave; this has all been very upsetting.’
They weren’t happy being forced to leave, Mr Bad Cop sending me hostile glares as he left, but unless they arrested me, they had little choice. It wasn’t my first rodeo of law enforcement looking for Pawel. This and years of working in emergency had taught me exactly what powers the police held.
As soon as they left, I went to the kitchen and pulled out a half-empty bottle of vodka kept there for special occasions.Or the world ending, I thought, my heart hammering so hard I could hear the blood rushing through my arteries. I didn’t bother to reach for a glass, simply opening the bottle and taking a swing.
The harsh, burning sensation of alcohol cascading down my throat made me cough and splutter, but after a moment, my heart slowed down, muffled by a sudden wave of dizziness. Then, still holding the open bottle, I went back to the living room and sat on the sofa. Grabbing my phone with my free hand, I scrolled through my contacts with shaking fingers until I finally found the correct number and called.
‘Sara, I need your help.’ I said as soon as the call connected.
‘I’m on my way.’ That was Sara, never asking why, just dropping everything for family. I put the phone on the table and took another swig, feeling a glimmer of hope in my despair.
