Page 14 of Kissed the Mark
The truth was, I was completely out of myelement here. There was no easy way to move forward. No one was anobvious choice to consult for some answers.
“How long have you been a vampire?” I askedLeandra. She looked so harmless here, even with all the bloodcaking her dress, curled up on my rug like a defenseless littlehuman.
“A year,” she said. “Although if I lost mymemories—a hundred years?”
“You really don’t know anything thathappened since you got here?” I asked.
She licked the last bits of dried blood fromher lips. I looked at the fuzzy white rug in despair; it would haveto be replaced. “What wereyoudoing and how do you knowme?” she said instead.
“Almost everyone knows each other inMayfair. You asked me to help you with a mark. I’m a bountyhunter.”
“Not a vampire hunter?” she asked. Her eyeswere wide with fear.
“Sometimes,” I admitted. “When there’s abounty…for a vampire.”
I needn’t have said anything. Leandra dozedon the rug, tame as a kitten. I flipped the lights off and left herthere.
Chapter Eight
The Vampire Queen
I PACED MY BEDROOM, SLEEP pulling at my eyes.Nothing was adding up, and it was incredibly frustrating. I was abounty hunter, not a goddamn supernatural detective. Everythingweird that had happened happened around Leandra: that werewolf thatMac told me had met with Mateo Rivera, the dead body. Theout-of-town vampires that had attacked us when I was with Leandra.I wished I knew where they had come from—even that would besomewhere to start.
When Leandra was asleep during the day withno way to leave without eviscerating herself in the sunlight, Ileft the apartment for the Guild headquarters. The bounty boardcovered an entire wall of digital projections that changed when onewas completed. I scanned them for anything that looked related toanything I’d dealt with in the past week, but not a single vampiregraced the board, and only one werewolf in town with a history ofmisbehavior. I stared at it until the words blurred together, themanyName, crime, for capturesigns melding together.
Someone cleared their throat behind me. Iturned and stared right into the beautiful, dangerous face of AllieGodden.
“Looking for something?” she asked. Twobounties left the board as she spoke, making a noise like poppedbubbles. “I just captured those.”
Allie was Nigerian-British, with an unfairlysymmetrical face and a plethora of spells at her fingertips forfinding fugitives faster than anyone else.
“Hi, Allie,” I said.
“Hi, Olympia.” She didn’t sound impressedwith me. In one hand she twirled her infamous stake—ahawthorn-and-silver number, the two materials swirling into a giantscrew shape that ended in a murderously sharp point. “I’ve nabbedfourteen this week. I see that you haven’t gotten any marks lately.How do you pay the bills?”
I simmered with rage. Allie was alwaysstepping on toes, but the mayoral council didn’t care, and theGuild loved her. She was good at what she did—there was a reasonshe ranked number one consistently. “I have a question for you,” Isaid, inspired.
“Oh?”
“When you’ve gotten hits for vampires, doyou ever smack them hard enough to do brain damage?” I cleared mythroat. “I saw a vamp at one of the dens who seemed like he had aconcussion or something. I didn’t know vampires could getthose.”
“I don’t think they can,” Allie said, herperfectly drawn eyebrows furrowing. “Even if they did, I’m surewhen they fed again, they would heal from that like they do fromany other injury.”
There goes that theory.“Can witchesremove memories then? Maybe he rubbed someone the wrong way. I’mjust looking into it for a bounty,” I said, sounding suspicious ashell.
“Are you stupid?” she asked me, looking meup and down. This was more words than we usually exchanged, and itwas obvious why. “He probably got his hemoglobin with a hint ofmeth. Was he from the Orchard Avenue den? They’re always preying ondrug addicts. Disgusting.”
“But it’s possible,” I said, “for witches toremove people’s memories.”
“Yes, Olympia, you utter idiot.” Alicerolled her eyes. “Don’t you remember Charlotte Hannigan? Why don’tyou read this in a book instead of bothering me, then?” And shestomped off, her gloat unsuccessful.
I did feel like an idiot. Charlotte Hanniganwas a human who had fallen in love with a Mayfair witch a few yearsback. The council had elected to remove her memories and dump herback into human society after a particularly nasty breakup toprotect Mayfair’s secrets. Of course a witch would have beenassigned to complete that task. It was quite controversial at thetime and set a precedent for human-supernatural relationships thatmade everyone wary of entering one.
What witch would have done this to Leandra?I really wished I knew more about her now, who she would’ve pissedoff enough to face this level of retaliation.
I dialed the receptionist at the abandonedmall. “Vampire Central, how may I help you?” the receptionist askedin a tone that was overly polite for the middle of the day.
“Hi, this is Olympia Carter. Is Leandra’sassistant available?”
