Chapter Seven #2
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.
That she had 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. Her responsibility.
“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.”