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Young - or whoever was living here - was going all out when it came to the luxuries, obviously.
I continued forward, into a hallway. The wooden floorboards creaked under my steps, the sound seeming to echo oddly through the silence.
There was another room to the right, but again, beside newspapers and rubbish, it was empty. As was the bathroom and the living room. The front room possessed a bed that appeared to have been used recently, if the crinkled state of the sheets was anything to go by.
And Young had been in here. His scent was faint, but nevertheless here - it seemed not even the breeze coming through the smashed windows could remove the foulness of it.
But why would a vampire have a bed in one of the sunnier rooms of the house? Or did he only use it at night, when he wasn't out torturing people for whatever sick reasons he had?
Whatever the reason, he didn't appear to be here now. I blew out a breath and lowered the weapon. What next? It wasn't usual for a vamp to have more than one bolt-hole, but Vinny had seemed pretty positive that this was his current address. I mightn't trust her, but I trusted the anger that had been in her voice. Trusted her need for vengeance.
I moved back into the hallway. None of these rooms were exactly dark - certainly not dark enough for a vamp needing to avoid sunlight, anyway.
So if he was here, he'd have to have a daytime bolt-hole. I looked up at the ceiling. Old places like this had high rooflines, and it wasn't unusual for this attic area to be used as a storage area. And if it could fit junk, it could certainly fit a vampire.
I flicked my vision to infrared and studied the ceiling again. Nothing in the area immediately above me. I walked back through the house, gaze searching the shadows above me. It wasn't until I reached the kitchen that I saw the heat of life.
Only it didn't look big enough to be a vampire. It was more the size of a small cat.
Frowning, I retraced my steps until I found the hatchway, which was in the bathroom. After making sure the old cabinet would support my weight, I climbed up and carefully pushed aside the cover.
Dust and old spiderwebs drifted down from the darkness, and I brushed them away from my face. Spindly cracks of light ran across the roof high above, suggesting the old tin wasn't as waterproof - or light-proof - as it had looked from outside. After checking that the life source hadn't moved, I flicked the laser's safety on and shoved it in my pocket, then grabbed either side of the hatch and quickly hauled myself up. My gun was back in my hand before my butt hit the ceiling.
The red blur of life hadn't moved, but its oddly round eyes were regarding me steadily.
There was no smell of vampire up here at all. Just rotting wood mixed with the slightest tang of excrement. Not human excrement - not even vampire. This had an aroma that suggested some sort of animal had made itself at home here.
I switched back to normal vision and looked around. Despite the light creeping in through all the cracks, the edges of the roofline were still wrapped in shadows, and that's where my quarry - whatever it was - was hiding.
I rose and crept forward. Dust stirred, dancing in the streaks of light and tickling my nose. I sniffed, trying not to sneeze so I wouldn't startle whatever it was in the corner.
I was halfway across the roof when it moved, briefly coming out into the lighter areas before scampering off to the shadows at the other end. I smiled, and some of the tension eased from my shoulders.
It was nothing more dangerous than a brush-tailed possum. The little marsupials had flourished in suburbs all across Australia, and while they were damn noisy at night - and often messy when they got into roof cavities - they weren't particularly dangerous unless cornered and frightened.
The fact that this one was living here suggested a vampire wasn't. While they were comfortable sharing living space with humans and most nonhumans, vamps seemed to send them scattering.
I blew out a frustrated breath, then made my way back to the hatch and jumped back down.
This place had proven to be one big, fat dead end. Young might have been here, but he wasn't now. Whether he would come back was the question - and though the kettle and coffee suggested he would, with crazy vamps you never could tell.
And I wasn't about to hang about and wait for him. Jack could get the night guys to run a watch on the house - there were more of them, anyway. I needed to get back to the other investigation before our bloodthirsty cat found another horny male to beat and murder.
In the room ahead, a board creaked. Which wasn't unusual in old houses, granted, but up until now, the floorboards had creaked only when I'd stepped on them.
I stopped. The creaking didn't.
Someone - or something - was in the house with me. My fingers tightened around the laser.
I couldn't feel the presence of a vampire. Couldn't smell him.
And yet the hairs on the back of my neck were standing on end, and the sudden sensation that trouble waited just around the corner sat like a weight in my stomach.
As it turns out, my clairvoyance had it all wrong.
Trouble wasn't waiting around the corner.
It was right behind me.
