Chapter Eight #2
I stand up from the couch and stretch my arms above my head. “Okay, now let’s get to work.”
He nods and we walk over to the center table together and sit down.
“Fill me in on what you have so far,” I say.
“So far, I know that the individual behind everything is an incantor. A very powerful one at that. Everything left at the scene, as well as the magical signature, leads to that conclusion.”
“You are completely sure about that?” I ask.
“Yes, completely. It took a long time for me to understand the magic behind everything, but no other creature can create such a scene without strong spellwork. No other magic can make someone completely disappear and become untraceable.”
“Okay, so let’s look into every incantor and narrow it down them. Boom, easy.”
The corner of his mouth lifts slightly. “There are hundreds of incantors living in Vryko. Not to mention the ones living deep within the Whispering Woods who may not even be documented within the magic system.”
I slouch down. “Oh.”
Draven places his palm against his head, leaning onto his elbow that is braced on the table. “Trust me, I have thought of it all. It is why I am here, fifteen years later, with no answers.”
“So how many have you looked into and ruled out so far?”
He lifts his eyes up to mine. “I have ruled out almost every incantor that we have registered, as well as a few specific ones that have connections to the castle grounds.”
I nod my head up and down in thought.
“I could be a lot further along if I did not have to also carry out my wonderful princely duties,” he says, amusement in voice.
“But there are more?”
He nods. “Many more.”
“Okay, we have a lot of work to do then. We will go through everyone faster being there is two of us. It is double the work being done,” I say with determination as I start to flip through papers on the desk.
Draven sits in contemplation for a few seconds, staring at me with an unfamiliar look in his eyes. “Okay, let’s get to work then.”
He walks over and pulls out a stack of files out of a cabinet. He drops them down on the table and dust flies out from the sides. I wave the dust away from me as I cough. Grabbing one of the files, I start to read.
After what seems like hours and many files later, I place the file I am reading down on the table.
I rub my eyes, needing to give them a break. “Can we take a break?”
Draven has his feet propped up on the table, leaning back into his chair. He has run his fingers through his hair what has had to be over a hundred times since we started, leaving it even messier than usual.
Not that I have been counting, or noticed every time he has done it.
His sleeves are rolled up to show his muscular forearms, and his white collared shirt has been buttoned down so I can see a small amount of his chest. My eyes move down to it.
Draven starts speaking, but I cannot hear him in my daze.
I snap my head up. “Sorry, what did you say?”
“I said yes, a break sounds like a good idea.”
He stands up and stretches, then sits back down. We sit in comfortable silence for a few moments until I break it.
“How many people have gone missing?”
“Twenty-four. It is an even number of male and female victims.”
My eyes widen. The next victim will be female.
“That’s a lot of people.”
“It is. It started off being one every couple of years, then it turned to one every year, then a couple a year. Last year had the most people taken so far. This year will surely beat last year. Two have already gone missing,” he says.
I blow out a breath. “Wow.”
“It took the longest to figure out that it was the same person every time and that everything was connected.”
I could not imagine how he figured that out either.
“How many vampires live within the castle?” I ask.
“Between staff and members of the royal court, close to eighty at least.”
I shake my head. “That is a lot of people to choose from.”
“Tell me about it. Some have fled the castle to go back to the town. They have taken an oath of silence on why they have left. I cannot say I blame them for wanting to leave, but the last thing we need is mass hysteria within the town.”
Draven stands back up and walks over to the table, but instead of pouring a glass of blood, he pours himself a glass full of deep brown liquid. Burbon, I assume.
I look around the room and notice the shadows that lurk in every corner, even the ones under Draven’s feet. Now that I know of them, I cannot stop seeing them.
“Would you like some,” he offers, holding up the bottle.
“No thank you. I think I am done with drinking.” The words come out strangled and my throat tightens at the thought of drinking alcohol again.
I immediately pivot to a new subject.
“I feel bad for that woman. I can still hear her screams in my head,” I say.
Draven downs the glass in one gulp and shakes his head. “I feel terrible for her too. We will take care of her.”
He sets the glass down on the table and sits. He does not seem like he is in much of a talking mood this evening. His usual playful demeanor has been replaced with something stoic and serious.
I do not like it.
We get back to work pretty quickly after he sits back down. We spend what seems like a few more hours looking through files and as I look at the clock, I see that it is an hour past midnight. Reaching the point where I cannot stop yawning, I decide to rest my eyes for just a minute.
I lean forward on the table, closing my eyes as sleep takes over quicker than I intended.