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“I’m your assistant,” I said, slamming the edge of the desk for emphasis. “I’ll do whatever that entails, including be in the field.”

“Charlo—” Julian’s voice had an edge of danger in it that I wasn’t going to listen to.

“You’ll be there to protect me. I’m not worried.”

If Julian had an aura, it would’ve turned into a shadow, based on his dark expression. It took him a moment to speak again. “It is a noble sentiment. We will worry about that if it comes up. In the meantime, you’ll find the remains labeled in the crates on the counter in your lab.”

“What if I don’t detect anything unusual?” I asked. If I covered up the evidence, assuming there was any, could I still get Lydia back?

Julian finally relaxed in the chair. “Then we have a serious issue on our hands. So let’s hope you do.”

Chapter Five

White Hair has a Name

The remains Julian mentioned consisted of four boxes full of ashes, which I’d expected, considering what had happened to the vamp I’d injected. Slipping back into the routine of research was the easy part. It was as comfortable as an old pair of sneakers and helped me stop perseverating on my guilt. I never meant to kill anyone. I didn’t even wish it on the vamp that turned my father, though I had less than kind thoughts, for sure.

I slid the third sample beneath the microscope and started the analysis. The screen before me lit up with a list of what made up the ash so fast, I knew the equipment Julian had provided was a combination of both tech and magic, a rare find.

I sighed and swiveled on the stool I’d straddled. It was the same as the others. Every indication was that the remains were those of a normal human. No sign of the virus that caused vampirism. GDK version 5 had worked, just a bit too well. I hadn’t accounted for the fact that people I was trying to cure were technically dead and, without the virus, they were returned to their natural state with no blood pumping in their veins. I was a world class idiot.

Traces of the vaccine were present, but I only knew that because I’d created it. Each element on its own wouldn’t be suspicious to anyone. With a groan, I tugged the final box toward me. It was a female vamp, according to the text. I opened it up and pulled a prepped slide over, but when I glanced inside, I froze. The remains weren’t a pile of gray ash. I gagged at the sight of the bone fragments and sealed container of reddish-brown goop that made me think of the last slasher movie I’d watched at Zoe’s when I couldn’t sleep. That had been special effects. This was real and sealed in a vacuum I hated to open for fear of the smell.

But I needed to know why the hell this was different than the others, so plugged my nose and went for it. In minutes, I had it on the microscope, where the machine did its thing. As I waited impatiently for the two minutes it took, the elevator appeared in the middle of the lab.

I spun toward it, expecting Julian, but when it opened, a small creature with wrinkled, leathery skin, giant ears, and a tail scampered out. It was about three feet tall and wore an open lab coat over its otherwise naked and wrinkled body. Focusing its saucer-like eyes on me, it leaped up onto the counter in front of me, making me startle.

“Tittwell reporting for duty,” it squeaked, saluting with a tiny hand. Behind it, the computer spat out the results I needed to examine.

One glance told me the elevator was already gone. I hated that thing, and I’d used it only twice.

“Um,” I said, scooting back slightly in search of personal space. I was fairly certain I was dealing with an imp, a rare type of fae. And, as a rule, fae in general were a bitch to deal with.

“Speechless, I see,” Tittwell said. “Can’t blame you. Tittwell is an excellent lab assistant.”

So it spoke in third person. Lovely. “Lab assistant?” I echoed, trying to come up with an excuse to get it out of there. I was doing fine on my own, and I didn’t want to replace Lydia. Especially not with a pushy imp.

“Yes, Lieutenant Carver sent Tittwell to assist the doctor. What does the doctor need?”

My head pounded as I tried my best not to look behind it at the screen.

“Tittwell, would you mind…grabbing me a sandwich and some coffee? I haven’t had time for lunch, and I could really use something.”

The imp swelled up like a puffer fish and turned purple as his face blew into the size of a basketball. I recoiled. “Tittwell is a professional, not a gopher.”

“I didn’t mean to insult you,” I said quickly. “You came in telling me you were my assistant and asked what I needed. That was the first thing that came to mind. What are your pronouns?” I asked, not wanting to use the term “it” anymore, even in my head.

“He, him,” he said, deflating back to normal size and color. “I will get Tittwell and the doctor lunch so work can be resumed.” He hopped off the table and scurried into the elevator that had reappeared at some point behind me.

I breathed a sigh of relief and focused on the results. Blood. The difference was blood. And it was a mixture of O positive and AB negative. So it belonged to more than one person, making me think it belonged to a recent meal and not the vamp’s own blood. Which meant she hadn’t just been turned.

Just been turned. That sparked excitement. If someone had the vaccine within a reasonable amount of time after becoming a vampire, would they survive? The possibilities returned the fervor that had been missing since the lab burned, and I itched to regain ground on my progress. Maybe it wasn’t a lost cause after all. Sure, it wouldn’t help my dad, but I’d never held out much hope of finding him again. At least it could help some other innocent victims.

My thoughts gravitated to Julian as I cleaned up, and melancholy set in. Some part of me had fantasized about offering him a cure when I’d found it. I shook myself. Maybe I’d find a way to make it work even for old vampires.

Tittwell showed up soon after, toting a bag and tray with two coffees and the fixings, which he set on the counter to my right. “Tittwell didn’t know what you take in your Joe, so there’s plenty of cream and sugar. Do you want the tuna or the turkey? Tittwell hopes you aren’t vegetarian.”

“I’m not. I’ll take the turkey, thanks.”