Page 13 of The Rising Dark
“How many does that make now?”
“Six.”Six dead humans, their bodies haphazardly dumped.The first had simply been left where she’d fallen.An older woman in her sixties, still clutching her purse, her neck and wrists ravaged by teeth over and over.Witnesses mentioned a man fleeing the scene, but no usable description was given beyond that.The second, a teenage boy—he’d been living on the streets for a couple of months and was found stuffed behind some bushes close to the doorway he’d been sleeping in.The third, a young woman found floating in the Thames.Although the body had been bloated by the water, the injuries to her neck were unmistakable.Two others followed, their bodies dumped unceremoniously in places much like this one.And now another dead body, another victim.Although not all bodies had been found immediately, a pattern was emerging.The time between deaths was decreasing, the killing seemingly indiscriminate.There might be more victims, waiting for someone to find them, to acknowledge them.
Except for the young woman who had drifted several miles among the currents of the Thames, he hunted within roughly a ten-mile radius.Lavinia had been so close to him yesterday.It had only been luck, and the interference of the demon, that had prevented her from coming across this body—or his killer—sooner.
Lavinia felt her anger rising.She was used to the cycles of human death—had to be.Vampires lived much longer lives, and Lavinia had seen generations of humans thrive and wither.Humans, like all creatures, were capable of great cruelty.They sometimes seemed hell-bent on killing each other in droves, or murdered each other in moments of passion.But this was the work of a vampire—a vampire who had abandoned all control.Someone who was indulging in bloodlust, slaying people without any regards for their humanity, only to slake his own thirst.It was the lowest kind of vampire; one who had forsaken the honour of his family and his race, and who was ruled only by desire.If she found him, she would wring his neck herself, and would enjoy doing so.
“This can’t be a coincidence, right?That he was killed so close to where the demon appeared,” Octavia said.
Lavinia leaned back.She was glad her Sister was here.Octavia’s presence always grounded her.Octavia was the eldest of her Sisters, although she hadn’t been in the Sisterhood the longest, having come to the role later in life than usual.She carried her experience lightly, and Lavinia always found herself appreciating her insights.“No.At least, I don’t think so.I’m not sure Luce is as convinced.”
“Fair enough.It’s her job to be sceptical.She can’t go around making allegations that we’ve got a rogue vampire and a warlock working together.”
Octavia spoke the uneasy realisation that had been growing among them.A drained body, only streets away from a demon appearance.Demons meant warlocks—witches who dabbled with demonic forces.Vampires couldn’t manipulate magic.Even at the best of times, vampires and witches could hardly stand each other.And if the vampire had turned rogue, a collaboration seemed even less likely.Why would a vampire and a warlock work together?And to what end?The body of the man only raised more questions.How was he connected to Michelle?
“We should find out who he is, see if Michelle recognises him.Or any of the other victims.”
“It’s as good a place to start as any,” Octavia agreed.“Let’s have another look at where the demon emerged.”
Lavinia led her back to the alleyway.They worked their way backwards, first studying the ground where Lavinia and the demon had fought, moving back to where Lavinia had first seen it.Not many traces were left.Some splashes of demon blood had eaten away the corner of a dumpster, the corrosive liquid dissolving the plastic rim.Otherwise, they didn’t see anything out of place.They walked to the street of Michelle’s apartment, but their search there was equally fruitless.Lavinia sent a quick message to Zachary to pick them up again.Octavia stood with her arms crossed, a pensive expression forming on her face.
“Has Vesta heard back from the other families?”she asked.
“Most of them have been in touch.So far everyone is accounted for, and no one has any specific concerns about any offshoots of their lineage.But you know how these things go, no one wants to report their weird second cousin to the Sisterhood.What if they’re wrong—or worse, what if they’re right, and the family has to bear the shame of having produced a rogue.”Lavinia rubbed her face with her hands.“But you’re right.The search for the rogue isn’t going well.He has been getting more careful, successfully hiding his scent from us.He doesn’t seem to be in touch with anyone else, or at least not with anyone who’s talking.It seems like we’re dealing with an unknown.”
“Maybe someone from abroad?Someone not embedded in our society?”
“Could be.It’s not a possibility I’m willing to exclude.”
“I’ll ask Vesta to expand her search and get in touch with the families on the continent.See if they’ve heard anything.”
“Thanks.”Lavinia suppressed the urge to sigh.It would not do to sulk.Still, it was frustrating that they had made so little progress.Thatshehad made so little progress.Of course, it wasn’t her fault that the rogue was attacking people, and it wasn’t her fault that humans died by his hand.The blame lay squarely on his shoulders.Regardless, it was difficult to deal with the anger and frustration at yet another life snuffed out before its time.The humans couldn’t be relied on to catch the rogue—that was the vampires’ responsibility.Herresponsibility.
“I think we need to talk to Arran.If the rogue is somehow connected to a warlock, we should widen our search,” Octavia said.
There was no way around it.If a warlock was involved, the Witch Council should be consulted.But damn it, they certainly didn’t make it easy to work with them.“You’re right.But I don’t like it.”
“Me neither,” Octavia agreed.“But I don’t think we have a choice in the matter.I’ll call him.”
Chapter Eight
Arran, the vampire liaison for the Witch Council of the British Isles, sent Octavia some coordinates.They led to a dirt track in a rural area in the Surrey Hills, an hour’s drive south of London.While Octavia had set up the meeting, Lavinia had called in an anonymous tip to the London Metropolitan Police, letting them know the location of the dead man.They would contact his next of kin and would use their own networks to try to find the killer.If they made any headway, the Sisterhood would hear soon enough.They had informants in most places, including in the police.Money could make even the most reticent human talk, if necessary.
“We’re getting close,” Zachary said.They drove through open countryside, surrounded by startlingly green fields lined with clusters of trees and shrubbery.The GPS indicated that they were almost at the specified location.No buildings or other cars were in sight.
“Why can’t they just meet in a café like normal people?”Octavia said wistfully.“I could go for a coffee.Maybe a piece of cake…”
“We just had lunch,” Lavinia said.
“Don’t tell me you would rather meet in the middle of a muddy field with a bunch of witches that speak in riddles, instead of having a triple espresso and some chocolate cake.”
Despite the quick lunch of store-bought wraps they had eaten standing beside the car, Lavinia’s stomach growled.“Stop it.”
Octavia flashed a quick smile, but turned serious again when Zachary stopped the car.“This is it,” he said.The view had hardly changed.The car had come to a standstill on a road that ran alongside a field.A lone tree stood along the tall grass, swaying slightly in the breeze.
“No one’s here yet,” Lavinia said.She looked at the time.Four o’clock.Exactly as in Arran’s message.
“They’ll be here,” Octavia answered.
