Chapter 12
Laurie
I’d never been a fan of Arlon’s place. It was cozy, sure, but it carried too many reminders of the past. I could still remember the first time I’d set foot inside, still wrapping my head around the idea of freedom.
I should have felt better. Instead, I was plagued by nightmares and creeping paranoia that only grew worse the more comfortable Arlon tried to make me. The more I gained with my newfound freedom, the more I had to lose.
So I rejected it all. I grew to resent the warm bed and the private bathroom and Arlon’s fumbled attempts at helping me adjust. Eventually, I rejected Arlon’s place entirely. It was safe, in theory, but that safety chafed.
“So, what am I looking at exactly?” I settled on Arlon’s couch, tucking one leg under me and squinting. “And what does this have to do with the organization?”
Arlon had his laptop balanced on the coffee table, paused on a piece of grainy footage from what looked like a security camera set up in some random bar.
“Just watch,” he murmured, meeting my bemused expression with a look that was far more serious than I expected from him. He hit play on the video and we both scooted closer to watch.
On the screen, five people sat at a table. The video was silent, but I could see them chatting and laughing, throwing back shots. I swept a sidelong glance at Arlon. “Do I know these people?”
“No.” Arlon had his fingers laced, knuckles pressed to his lips. His brow was furrowed and his eyes remained glued to the screen. I hadn’t seen him looking so stoic in a long time, so I shut my mouth and kept watching.
The five people in the footage were still chatting, downing drinks and acting like any normal patrons would. Nothing unusual. Then a man walked by, casually tapping one person on the shoulder. He didn’t even look their way, but his mouth moved like he was murmuring something.
Confusion pinched my brow and my gaze slid to Arlon again. He rolled his shoulders, still watching the video with scorching intensity. I returned my attention to the screen.
The group at the table continued their conversation, but a moment later, the person whose shoulder was tapped stood up abruptly and walked out of frame. No words spoken, no excuse. The others watched them go, confusion apparent even through layers of grainy pixels.
Arlon leaned forward, pressing another button.
“Watch carefully,” he murmured. The footage sped up.
The same bar, different day, same phenomenon: a man tapped someone on the shoulder, that someone stood up and left.
It was always the same man—tall, well-dressed.
Handsome, but in a blank, airbrushed kind of way.
I exhaled slowly as it dawned on me. “They left with him.”
Arlon nodded grimly, clicking through a few more clips. “In every instance, the person eventually disappears off the bar’s exterior cam. They get into a car, always the same make and model.”
My stomach twisted. “So you suspect this is how they’re recruiting… or grabbing victims?”
“Exactly,” he said, folding his arms. “I’ve been tracking it for a while, but this last week has been especially active. Different bars, same M.O.”
I rubbed my temples. “How do you know this is connected to the organization? I mean, it could just be some weird fetish thing for all we know. It looks like all those people went willingly.”
Arlon blinked at me. “I got this footage from the station. All of those people have been reported missing. None of them have been seen since.” He closed the laptop with a snap.
“And I don’t think they went willingly. I think they were threatened, or coerced or…
something. I don’t know. No one on my team knows what to make of it. ”
My mind snagged on that word: coerced.
My mouth went dry. I’d seen something like this before, back at the facility. Vampires with the uncanny ability to get into people’s heads. It wasn’t just coercion, it was compulsion. And if they were using those abilities to pick up victims, to get them spirited away without a fuss…
I balled my fists. “So, what do we do about it?”
Arlon pulled out his phone, swiping open what looked like a map with a few red pin drops dotted around it.
“I found a pattern. This man has shown up in at least six bars around the city. I went undercover last night to one of them. He was there, and I watched him all night. I followed him outside when he left with two people in tow.”
My breath throttled in my throat. “You… followed him?”
Arlon’s lips thinned out. “For a while, yeah. They got into that same car from the footage. I managed to slip a tracker on the bumper.”
A small spark of appreciation lit my chest. Despite my reservations about his idea of ‘recovery’, Arlon deserved credit where credit was due. He was good at his job, and he was committed. Sometimes I overlooked that part of him.
I took a closer look at the map on his phone. “Where did they go?”
Arlon tapped the screen, pointing out a specific pin drop. “To a warehouse district on the outskirts of the city. I got coordinates.”
“Great,” I said, pushing off the couch arm. “Let’s go see it—”
“Laurie,” he cut in sharply, reaching out to halt my movement. “I’m not gonna let you just waltz in there. We don’t know what these people are capable of, and you’re not exactly armed to handle a whole nest of them.”
I bristled under his touch, wrenching my arm free. “I can handle them just fine. You have no idea—”
“I don’t doubt you can defend yourself.” Arlon’s expression softened and he lowered his hand. “I just…” He shrugged helplessly. “Look, this is dangerous. I don’t want to see you hurt… not again.”
The admission squeezed my heart, uncomfortably so. I pressed my lips together, masking my building irritation under a quiet murmur. “So you’re just going to sit on this lead forever?”
“No.” Arlon sat back, carding his fingers through his hair. “I’m just saying, we have to plan carefully. Maybe get official backup, but authorizing a raid will take time.”
I groaned. We didn’t have time. Every second spent sitting around waiting for permission from Arlon’s higher-ups was a precious second wasted. We had a lead—we had to do something with it. And if Arlon wouldn’t help me… I knew someone else who would.
My stomach twisted at the idea of letting a vampire help. But River had proven herself kinder than her fangs suggested. And she was currently the only real option I had.
“At least send me the location.” I sighed, mustering a nonchalant tone. “So I can do my own research.”
Arlon arched a brow. “Yeah, Laurie? I’m not stupid. I’m not letting you go there alone.”
I forced a short, brittle laugh and threw my palms up. “I wasn’t planning on it!”
When Arlon deadpanned, unconvinced, I sighed and slumped back into the sofa cushions. “Fine. Whatever, we can wait for backup.”
But I couldn’t wait. Arlon didn’t know how serious this was. Arlon didn’t even know the supernatural was involved. I couldn’t let this be. It would keep me up at night, and I’d gnaw at the thought all day—like a dog with a bone. I had to do something now.
The idea came suddenly, and I hauled myself upright. “Uh, do you mind if I use the bathroom? I gotta…”
Arlon’s suspicious expression melted into mild discomfort. “Oh. Right.” He gestured vaguely down the hallway. “You know where it is.”
I nodded and headed off, my pulse thrumming in my ears. Down the hall, I flicked on the bathroom light. The little sink looked the same as always, old porcelain chipped at the edges. I swallowed around a lump of guilt, then crouched and reached underneath it.
A twinge of memory: Arlon complaining about the pipes and how his landlord refused to fix them properly.
I found the knob—that faulty one he’d shown me once, cursing the landlord’s cheap patch job. Carefully, I twisted. At first, it resisted, but then it gave with a squeak. The moment I heard the sudden gush of water, I winced.
It was wrong. It was cruel. But I did it anyway.
Water hissed out in a torrent, splashing against the basin and filling it, before spilling onto the floor. My stomach flipped, but I pushed back the guilt. I popped my head out the bathroom door, faking a frantic tone. “Arlon, hey—sorry, the pipes are leaking again!”
His responding curse was immediate. “Goddammit.” I heard him stomp toward me, muttering rude unmentionables about his landlord. The second he stepped over the threshold and saw water spraying everywhere, he let out a colorful slew of expletives.
“Ugh, this stupid piece of—argh,” he hissed, already dropping to his knees to fiddle with the valve. “Laurie, just… Can you grab a towel?”
“Sure,” I managed, backing away. The guilt gnawed at me. But I brushed that aside and slipped down the hall toward the living room instead.
Arlon’s phone sat on the coffee table where he’d left it.
I snatched it up and swiped to the maps app. Sure enough, there were the pinned coordinates. My eyes flicked over them, committing them to memory. Then I heard Arlon cursing a fresh wave of watery frustration.
I set his cell down exactly where I found it, phone screen facing downward, then dashed back to the bathroom, ripping a towel from the closet in the hallway. By the time I reappeared, Arlon had managed to slow the spray, though water still dripped and sputtered from the pipes.
He shot me a bewildered, harried look. Water droplets clung to his hair and pasted damp strands to his forehead. “God, I hate this sink.”
I rocked on my heels, holding out the towel. “Do you need help…?”
He swiped it from my fingers, shook his head, and resumed wrestling with the valve. “No, I almost got it. Landlord’s gonna fucking get it one of these days—”
His rant faded to the rushing in my ears as I backed away. I had what I needed.
“Hey, so… I think I’m gonna take off.” I fidgeted in the doorway, jutting a thumb over my shoulder.
Arlon was too busy hurling insults at the sink to pay much attention to my swift departure. “Yeah, all right. Text me when you get home.” He tossed a brief wave in my direction, muttering under his breath.
But he glanced up as I backed into the hallway and some dim realization flickered behind his level stare. I could see in his eyes that he suspected something, but he said nothing at all. All I could do was hold his gaze, and hope my eyes conveyed my promise.
I’ll try not to do anything too reckless.
Because now I had the location. And soon, I’d have a plan. And if that plan involved risking my neck—well, that was just business as usual.
Except this time, maybe I wouldn’t be going in alone.