CHAPTER FIVE
Davien
THE MOTORCYCLE ENGINE died beneath me with a low rumble as I pulled up at the edge of the cordoned lane, the sound swallowed almost instantly by the dense quiet of the trees. Marlette’s bike stood a short distance ahead, angled neatly off the path letting me know my partner had beaten me here.
The rain had started not long before my arrival, slicking the roads and muting the usual noise of them into something dull and distant.
I had stopped where the narrow lane gave way to little more than a dirt track, the village a mile or so back the way I’d come—its scattered lights barely visible now through the skeletal line of the forest. At least there were no curious onlookers here.
Just darkness, rain, and the faint suggestion of something wrong hanging in the air.
I removed my helmet, letting the steady drizzle settle into my hair, dampening it in seconds. The scent reached me immediately.
Human.
Only, it was an already decomposing human.
I sat there for a moment, listening.
The forest should have been alive with something—wind through branches or the distant rustle of night prowlers. Instead, there was nothing but the soft patter of rain against leaves and only the odd low creak of branches shifting overhead.
Too damn still.
I stepped off my bike, boots sinking slightly into the wet ground, and moved onto the path. Mud clung to the edges of it, where it was recently disturbed. Human tracks, scattered and uneven, leading deeper in.
It had been almost six months.
Six months since we first caught wind of this creature.
The first killing had taken place on the night of the Jupiter opposition and I had no doubt the two events were linked.
Events like that rarely meant anything to humans, but those of us who had walked this earth long enough knew, knew that coincidence tended to not exist at all.
I was certain of it. I just lacked the proof, and that, more than anything, irritated me.
The Ninth did not deal in certainties without evidence, no matter how old—or experienced—you were. And I was both, yet it didn’t matter.
The first victim had been found off the west coast of Ireland.
Which was strange in itself as Ireland wasn’t the type of place where rogue killings usually happened…
or ever, actually, in my experience. The victim, a young human female, had been completely drained of every drop, no blood remained.
And what's more, not a single drop had been spilled.
Not a single goddamn drop. The absence of blood at these crime scenes had at first made us believe it was the work of a vampire.
Other supernatural creatures—even the more evasive ones left behind a recognisable signature, typically a scent, making them easily tracked.
And that little fact was the most unusual part in these crimes.
There was no scent.
None at all. Except that of the victim.
And that’s where the vampire theory had fallen short, because, even if we liked to think we were invisible in all ways, there was a certain scent associated with us too.
This was something else.
Some creature of darkness.
There had been twenty seven killings since then that we’d been made aware of.
So far. The latest attack had been only the previous Sunday, where an entire party of wilderness expeditioners had been killed.
Nine of them and not a single survivor. Six months of chasing our tails in circles with nothing to show for it.
And what made it worse was that these attacks had been ramping up, increasing in frequency with less of a cooling off period.
That’s what had brought me here to this miserable part of the country at this hour. Another fucking kill. Or two, I should say.
Ordinarily I’d be hunting down rogue ones—vampires that acted against the laws of the Ninth.
Sure, it wouldn’t have been my occupation of choice—not that I had any—but I was good at it and as I preferred to keep my head firmly attached to the rest of my body, I did what I had to.
There were always rogue vampires killing humans, but they were typically sloppy and crazed in nature, so easy to find and punish.
Punishment being either death by sunlight or an eternity in prison. Usually the former, overseen by myself.
Normally, I worked alone, and I preferred it that way.
But it quickly became clear that this particular case was no ordinary one, a fact that at first had intrigued me, but at this point, I just wanted this headache to be dealt with.
But alas, I reluctantly decided I’d need an extra pair of eyes on this.
And that’s how Marlette had come to be standing next to me—long ginger hair pulled back tightly at the nape of her neck, dark clothing already dampened through, posture composed.
Still, she had always been precise in everything she did, from her movements to her conclusions, making her a rare exception and someone I trusted.
“Same as the others,” she said, her voice low, even, as she met me on the path to the bodies. No greeting.
There never was, and that’s why I liked working with her.
Marlette had been working as a detective amongst the humans for decades now, of course never staying in one area too long to avoid suspicion.
It suited her. She was a master at deduction so the job came naturally to her.
Of course, her position within the human world was at the direction of the Ninth.
Not only did it mean she could report on human goings on, but it gave us easy access to crime scenes without too much question.
I trusted her. And that was saying a lot, as my trust wasn’t given out easily. She’d earned it and I hers in return.
The wind was howling now, coating drizzly rain over everything from every direction.
The air felt cold. Colder than usual, even for these northern parts.
The weather was unrelenting, almost as though in mourning for the scene made within its heart.
Still, through the rain and the wind, the stench of human remains was now stagnant in my nostrils.
A wonderful perk of my heightened senses.
My feet sank into the squelching mud and the trees closed around me as I followed the path in, their branches forming a loose canopy that broke the rain into irregular drops that struck my shoulders.
Marlette led silently to my right. The thick forest stood in watch above us.
The trees, the only witnesses. There was no telling how many eyes were on us at this particular moment, perhaps even the ones responsible for this horrendous scene before us were watching us too.
Keeping an eye on us. Getting off on the fact that we were clueless. Again.
Stunned into silence, Marlette and I observed the scene. The scene, although now busy with the police and crime scene analysts, was eerily quiet. Some of the human officers were struggling to remain composed, their faces etched in terror.
Two decapitated humans, by the looks of it a couple in their late twenties or perhaps their early thirties.
It was difficult to make out identifying features as their faces were covered in mud and rain with their hair matting against them.
I’d hazard a guess that they’d been out here maybe two or three days before they had been discovered.
They’d not reached the bloat stage, but were covered in greenbottle flies.
Their heads had been placed in each other's hands.
A man and a woman. At this stage, it was unclear if the cause of deaths were decapitation or exsanguination.
Just like the previous victims, there wasn’t a drop of blood anywhere. They had been completely drained with not a single stray drop of blood left behind, and that familiar absence of a scent lingered in the air. There was no doubt in my mind that our guy—or creature—was behind this.
The placing in each other’s hands was new though, perhaps because they were a couple, as some sort of cruel joke.
The previous ones hadn’t been couples. These unfortunate souls had clearly been out hiking when they were attacked, evidenced by their backpack and hiking gear laying on the forest floor nearby.
I’d witnessed a lot of death and brutality in my years, I wasn't particularly phased by it.
There were times that violence was called for and death was and always would be a part of life.
Still, I took no joy in the meaningless death of innocent young lives.
“That makes twenty-nine.” I said, crouching down to get a closer look.
Marlette gave me a long exasperated look as she sighed then said, “They aren't going to be happy about this. We’ve been running around in circles all summer and we’re still clueless about what the hell is going on, never mind who is behind this mess.
Not to mention he or she or whatever it is, is getting more brazen.
Going after a couple like this and making such a deliberate scene.
I hate to say it, but it’s obviously toying with us. ”
“I know.”
We truly were in the dark. I was used to hunting down rogue ones, but this…
this was somehow different. It felt ancient, the crime scenes had all been so brutal, void of empathy and drenched in darkness.
“We need to get ahead of this. Let's get what we need and go back to the house to go over the evidence again.”
Marlette took some photographs and with that we left the officers to the scene. Marlette looked at me with heavy eyes. "This has to be something new altogether, we've never encountered anything like this. Why can't we track it?" she asked in a low voice.
“Maybe it's not something new, but something old. Something really old.”
Just as we were walking back towards our bikes, Marlette answered her mobile phone and her face drained of colour, looking increasingly worried and puzzled. That look could only mean one thing.
“Let me guess, there’s another body….”
“We’ve not even left this crime scene and there’s another,” she said with increased worry and disbelief. “This new one’s different though, it’s in the heart of the city.”
“That is different. We sure it's the same thing responsible?” I asked, picking up my helmet. I actually wouldn’t mind the familiarity of a rogue one right about now. At least that work was easy and didn’t keep me up at night.
Marlette shrugged her shoulders. “Let’s find out.”