Page 58 of Viktor

“For bloodletting.” Viktor closed his eyes, attempting to draw energy from the object but he detected a vast sea of nothingness. No life. No emotion. No humanity.

“I know what you’re thinking, brother. But the initials are random. It’s a coincidence. He’s dead,” Greyson repeated.

“Jesus Christ. This can’t belong to him,” Viktor said, not quite convincing himself.

“This is some kind of sick fucking joke. That’s what this is.” Greyson laughed, the smile not reaching his eyes.

“This lancet. The fleam. It’s missing its handle.” Viktor rubbed his thumb along its edge. “Where did this come from?”

“We’ve got to be able to research it,” Rafe said. “And if there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s research.”

“Why would someone want me to see this?” Waverly asked.

“I don’t know,” Viktor admitted, still shaken by the initials. “But this painting has to have been hidden for years. There is no way this was an accident, that an antique bloodletter was concealed within the painting.”

“I know you both thought I could identify its owner but I’m afraid that’s going to be difficult. The nun painted many paintings.” Greyson rubbed his beard. “I could ask my contacts at the Vatican. Maybe they know who it belonged to.”

“Who would own the painting and this tool?” she asked, her voice laced with tension.

“Anyone could have owned the painting. But the tool? Most likely a human.” Viktor suspected it belonged to a doctor. “Bloodletting is thousands of years old.”

“Dates back to ancient Greeks. While it’s generally accepted by medical doctors today that it doesn’t cure disease, there are a few places in the world that continue its practice,” Greyson offered.

“You’re a fountain of knowledge brother,” Viktor replied, his voice tense.

“That’s what I’m here for. And my charming personality.”

“My head hurts, and it’s only ten in the morning.” Waverly stretched her neck from side to side.

“Rafe. I want you to examine the blade for any other clues to its origin. It looks like brass, but it could be something else.”

“What if another vampire owns it?” she asked.

“Humans probably used this for bloodletting, but it could be used for simple torture. Vampires are well versed in torture,” Greyson said with a cool smile.

The look of shock registered on Waverly’s face, and Viktor quickly corrected his brother in a failed attempt to calm her. “He didn’t mean that’s going to happen. He meant…well, you know, vampires have to intervene in disagreements from time to time.”

“Don’t lie to me.”

Viktor turned to her, his voice serious. “I will never lie to you.”

“What if a vampire engaged in an activity where he didn’t want people to know they did it? To blame it on a human?” Rafe suggested.

“It happens.” Baxter’s evil laugh echoed in his mind. It was one of Viktor’s master’s favorite tricks. He’d taught them well to leave no trace. No matter where they traveled, victims suffered unspeakable violence. No one would ever identify a puncture wound. If they were to spend more than a week in the location, he’d take pleasure in setting up villagers, watching them be punished by other humans.

“Stop getting him wound up, wolf. Vik, it wasn’t him,” Greyson told him, shaking him from his thoughts.

“You’re right. The blade most likely belongs to a human.” Viktor refused to entertain the possibility Baxter lived. I saw him die, saw Quintus hurl him into the canyon. He’d never forget the day he gained his freedom.

“Is there anything else on the blade?” Greyson asked.

Viktor studied the lancet and turned it over to inspect it, his gut clenching as he caught sight of the symbol. “This.”

“It’s similar to the symbol that was in my house,” she exclaimed.

“Hold this, please.” Viktor handed her the blade and reached for his cell phone, sliding his fingers along its glass, searching for the pictures he’d taken. He set the phone onto the desk so the others could see it. “She’s right.”

“Someone targeted her.” Greyson plowed his fingers through his dark hair.