We walked up the stairs when we got back to the house. Syla ducked her head out of the kitchen. “Oh, you’re back! I’ll get the champagne ready. I’ll be out with the charcuterie board in a moment.”
We all went to the couch, and Michael, not thinking, sat in the middle between Sarah and I. But neither of us ladies was willing to get up and move, so we sat there, stuck and stubborn. Michael, still oblivious, put his arm around me, getting comfortable in his seat. I smiled, at first just happy and content at the contact with him, then it shifted into a feline grin as I felt Sarah’s raging aura stirring on the other side of the couch.
Antun had been sitting in a chair, scrolling on his phone when we came in. He looked up when we had entered, sitting up but still distracted on the screen. I wondered what he could be looking at: this meeting had been his idea, but now he was just goofing off? I felt a bit perturbed.
He finally set his phone down when Syla entered the room, carrying a tray with the food and flutes of champagne. Setting it down with practiced grace, she urged, “Please, help yourselves. It’s a very casual spread despite the bubbly Sarah brought. I’m excited to try it, I haven’t had champagne in ages.”
I believed her. She was captured during the Prohibition, when alcohol was difficult to come by. She might not have had any champagne since even before that. Taking a careful sip, she hummed with satisfaction. “I’d forgotten what the bubbles had felt like on my tongue, this is so smooth.” She took another sip and said, “A very nice pick. Thank you, Sarah, for bringing it.”
“But of course,” Sarah gushed. “You are the hosts, and while I don’t know the rules about vampirism and visitation, I figured bringing a gift for the host was only fitting. My parents always brought something with them when they’d go over to someone’s house, so that’s also just what I thought one was supposed to do.”
Sarah bent at the waist and leaned forward, observing what was on the charcuterie board. She picked up a grape, popping it into her mouth before going back for some cheese and crackers.
“Well, we appreciate the wines, even if there’s no ‘rules’ about giving a vampiric host gifts,” Antun said as he leaned over and picked at the charcuterie board as well. “Let’s get the evening going. Sarah, we invited you because we need all hands on deck to stop this killer. Do you have any gifts that might be of benefit in the case?”
Sarah lifted her hand with a chuckle. “The strength part I already told you about. Again, I’m so sorry about making a mess.” I couldn’t tell if her apology was sincere or not, but it seemed to work for everyone else.
“Not a worry, it was easy to clean,” Syla reassured with a hostess’s genteel smile.
Sarah smiled back at her gratefully before continuing. “Besides strength, werewolves are natural hunters, with especially heightened hearing and smell and preternatural speed. I also have an ability to remember scents, making me an expert tracker.”
“All of my abilities are amplified with the full moon, so in just a few days when the full moon rises, I’ll be even stronger, faster, and better at tracking. However,” she said with a pout to her lips, “the heightened senses can be overstimulating, so it takes a lot of focus and discipline to remain alert instead of going berserk.”
It was a bit of a double-edged sword, it sounded like. Sure, during the full moon her abilities were amplified, but if they’re amplified to the point of possibly losing control? That was frightening. My fingers tightened on Michael’s; he squeezed them back in comfort.
Syla raised her hand as if she was in class. “I have a question. Does cloud cover affect the moon’s effect on your powers? I know in some stories of werewolves that that can be a hinderance.”
“Actually, it doesn’t,” Sarah answered. “No effect on my powers whatsoever that I’ve noticed, anyway. After all, Seattle is frequently cloudy. If the clouds had that much effect on my powers, I’d have probably moved elsewhere by now.”
“So, you like being a werewolf then?” Antun posed. It sure sounded like it to me anyway.
Sarah sat up, having eaten quite a portion of the charcuterie board already. “I’ve come to appreciate it, despite never having wanted it in the first place. Werewolves aren’t born, at least I wasn’t born a werewolf. I’m the only one I know, so I guess I can’t say for sure. Anyway, when I was about 14, I was bitten. Everyone just thought a dog had attacked me and all would turn out fine in the end. Only, that next full moon…”
Sarah’s eyes clouded over with the memory. “I transformed. It was horrendously painful, my bones and muscles shifting form for the first time. I thought for sure I was dying. I remember laying there, my limbs twitching on the floor as I cried. When the shifting stopped, I could finally breathe again. I managed to get up, but saw myself in the mirror, and…”
“I ran – the whole night, my paws pounded the ground as I tried to get away from myself. When my brain caught up and I realized what an idiot I was being, I started walking back toward home. But the shift happened again, and again I thought I was going to die from the pain alone. When everything finally subsided, I was laying on the ground at the edge of the forest, my pajamas shredded and hair a mess.
I didn’t know what else to do, so I walked until I found a 24-hour Mart. The lady behind the register assumed the worst and called the police after she got me settled in a blanket behind the counter. I didn’t know what to say, what to do. I hurt everywhere, and there was no way anyone would believe me if I told the truth. So, I said I’d ran away, gotten lost in the woods, and that’s why I looked like such a mess.”
Sarah’s eyes darkened, beginning to brim with tears. “They didn’t believe me. With the pain I had endured, I was still sore and moved tenderly. They took me to the hospital, where my parents gave consent for…” She had to take several deep breaths to calm herself down. Syla passed a tissue box closer, and Sarah took one, dabbing at her eyes and sniffling into it. “They… inspected my body because they thought that I’d been… They…for testing they had to…” She wrapped her arms around herself, shaking involuntarily.
Fuck, that’s so messed up. I know this is Sarah, but I can’t help but feel horrible. Having someone interrogate and not believe you, leading to people seeing your body when you didn’t want them to, running invasive tests to check for sperm… Poor thing…
Sarah took a longer breath and let it out fully. “When they discovered nothing, they figured I must have told the truth after all, and nothing else really came of it. My parents were equal parts furious and concerned, wondering why I’d do such a thing. But we went home, and that was the end of it. Or so I thought.”
She took a sip of champagne, the flute trembling in her fingers before she set it back down. “The next full moon was much the same, except this time I knew I wasn’t dying – it just hurt like it. I didn’t understand what had happened to me. Over time, I got more and more used to the shifting and the pain that comes with it. It’s an awful experience every time, but worth it for the traits it gave me.”
The room was silent as Sarah finished her story. Syla leaned over from her chair and placed a hand on Sarah’s knee. “That was… I’m so sorry that happened to you. All of it. It’s horrible.” Syla grabbed her flute and threw back the rest of her champagne.
I was tempted to do the same. That was an awful way to be thrown into the supernatural world. And she was only 14? She’s been dealing with this for over a decade? I hated to feel bad, but I did. I could empathize with the lack of choice; the change being forced into her life without consent. After all, that happened to me when Michael turned me to save me.
“Thank you for sharing your story, Sarah. You didn’t have to, but it did give us a better understanding of werewolves, and an idea of how you might be able to help,” Antun said gently.
Sarah nodded, regaining her composure after a moment. “What do you need me to do?”
Antun leaned forward, elbows on his knees and hands clasped in front of him. “You mentioned that you’re an expert tracker. If we can get you access to the bodies, do you think you could identify a common smell on them? They were all strangers, the only things that tie them together are their murders. So, if there’s a common smell on all of them, that’s probably the killer’s scent. Do you think you could find them if you’re able to identify a scent?”
That was brilliant. If her nose was as good as she said, then we might be able to track down the killer before he moved again.
“But how will we explain this lead to Jones and the SPD? We can’t just out Sarah to them, so how are we going to make sure they let her anywhere near the bodies? And speaking of them, how are we going to get them away from these cases?” Michael asked.
“Also, once bodies are taken to the morgue, they’re cleaned up. There’s a good chance that any scent on them is already gone,” Syla sadly admitted.
We all sat in silence for a minute. “Do we… have to wait for another murder to happen in order for Sarah to so that?” I felt horrible saying it aloud. Obviously, we didn’t want anyone else to die, but… how else could we get Sarah close enough to a body before the scent is lost?
“What if,” Sarah tapped her chin with a finger, “I was able to compare the scents of other corpses to the ones from your case? All of them would have the same cleanliness, but if there’s any traces of the murder still on them, I’ll be able to isolate that scent.”
I looked at Antun. “Again, we need to know how we can get Sarah close to the corpses in the first place still. Are we going to pretend that Sarah is a mortician or something?” I didn’t think something like that would work. What if the medical examiner or coroner started asking her trade-specific questions? That would immediately quash any plans right there.
The room was quiet for a moment as we all contemplated how to get Sarah close to the bodies without raising suspicion. I thought of the classic having her play dead to get in the morgue, but then there’d be the possibility of them needing to manhandle and possibly strip her. She’s already gone through enough, she doesn’t need something like that happening again.
“What if she pretends to be janitorial staff? No one ever pays attention to the cleaners,” Antun suggested.
Michael shook his head. “I don’t know. I know the cleaners on my floor, and the IT guys. I know all the people who are doing the background stuff at work. And I know I’m not the only one. If I saw someone new, I’d notice.”
Antun hummed, chin in his hands as he drummed his fingers along his cheek bones. Syla was fiddling with her bracelet, the texture of the knots giving her fingers something to focus on as she stared into the middle distance, thinking. Sarah had gone back to the charcuterie board, constantly eating. Did she skip dinner or something? Save some for the rest of us, lady; it’s already almost empty and only she and Antun have had anything.
Syla glanced over at Antun, a question in her eyes. She seemed to debate it for a moment before asking him, “Have you ever considered… hypnotizing Detective Jones or anyone else on the case? We might be able to pull it off if we hypnotize the detective and medical examiner, have them leave the room long enough for Sarah to do what she needs to?”
Antun sat up, “I don’t… no, I’ve never hypnotized Jones. I’ve always tried to keep everything above board, make it easy for him to rationalize away anything strange as me being albino or a foreigner or something else. I’ve never considered hypnotizing him, never needed to before. But… that might be the best solution, as much as I don’t like it.”
He rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m sure Jones already suspects something strange with this case with having brought you three onto it. Bringing in yet another ‘consultant’ might be too much, but if we do this right, they might never even know that Sarah was ever there.”
“And if we find the guy? What’s the plan? Take him out before he can kill anyone else?” Michael posed. I stiffened beside him, and his arm held tighter. “What is it?” He whispered.
No way in Hell was I telling him about my struggles after killing Nikola. That shit was too dark to talk about. I intended to bury it as deep as possible. But I answered, “Is killing the killer really the answer here? Isn’t there any other way to stop them?”
Antun shook his head. “For now, that’s our best bet. There’s no such thing as a lockup for supernaturals, so incarceration isn’t there. We have no judicial system as a species, there is no vampiric society. Vampires, for the most part, tend to be very solitary creatures.”
Sarah looked pointedly between the four of us and Antun obliged, “We are a bit unusual in that way ourselves. But the fact still stands, we need to stop the killer, and currently our best option is elimination.” He looked at me, too much understanding in his eyes, but said no more.
Are we no more than killers ourselves? Predators like Razvan was saying?
My thoughts plagued me so thoroughly that I hardly noticed when Sarah said her goodbyes, though I did catch the hungry gleam in her eye as she glanced at Michael once more before going downstairs.
Like I need another thing to deal with.
