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Had Olin kept these pieces from his human life? Dragged them from lair to lair like some tether to his long-lost humanity?
Why didn’t Kase, then? Why was he exempt from that sort of sentimentality or did he just hate his human past so much?
I pushed away the thought. It didn’t matter, really. The cobwebs over the door told me Olin wasn’t there, and I had bigger mysteries to handle than the vampire who I had no business thinking about.
There were no pictures on the walls, nothing modern, as though Olin had stopped adjusting long ago. The house sat in a small suburb a few miles outside the main city, an old area that had a mixture of homes that had been in the family for generations and windows covered in foil.
It was the sort of place where neighbors didn’t bother one another and kept to themselves. Perfect for a vampire who didn’t want to be disturbed.
I explored the main floor but found nothing of interest. In fact, I’d almost believe he didn’t stay there at all, given how few personal items there were. The rooms were decorated only so far as pieces of old, broken furniture were placed in their respective spots, but there was no real decor, no dishes in the kitchen, no fridge.
A door sat off the kitchen, ajar, and when I pushed it open, stairs descended into the darkness of the basement.
Right. Go down into the creepy murder basement.
A moment of realization hit me about just how stupid this idea was. Sure, I had no reason the believe Olin was here, which meant mold spores and the occasional spider were the worst dangers I faced. That other part of me thought…what if?
What if I were wrong? What if Kase was? What ifan angry, vicious vampire waited at the base of the steps?
What the hell was I thinking? I had a vampire, a werewolf, a mage and a hellhound—apparently—who all had offered to help. Going into dark basements felt like it counted as part of that offered help, and was definitely something one of the non-mortal beings should be shouldering.
Then the void came back to me. Rachel’s face, the sensation of Melinda’s hands around my throat—they all hit me.
Whether I wanted it to be my problem or not, itwas.
I reached into my bag and wrapped my fingers around the thin piece of metal Gran had given me years before. It was made of something amazingly strong and sharp enough to easily pierce anything. I’d discovered that the first time I’d kept it in my purse and reached in without thinking. It had taken six stiches to close the wound. Since then, I’d been more careful.
Still, it was useful enough to keep.
Piercing a vampire’s heart was enough to kill them, and the best part was that it didn’t require a wooden stake or silver. Anything that could make it through their exceedingly hard skin would work.
I’d asked Gran about that, back when she’d given me the weapon. The idea of a sharp stick taking down a vampire seemed insane.
‘So you poke them with a stick and what? The magic falls out?’
She’d looked at me as if I were an idiot—it was a look she had down pat—and snorted. ‘What do you think will happen if I pierce your heart?’
I’d frowned. ‘Well, I’d die, but there are a lot of things that could kill me that a vampire would shake off.’
She’d grinned, then leaned closer. ‘They heal fast, but piercing their heart isn’t the sort of thing one can heal from quick enough. One good, well-placed jab, and if it doesn’t kill them, it will weaken them enough to give you a chance to run.’
‘That’s all I get? A chance?’
‘Would you rathernothave a chance?’
That had always stuck with me. It was the most I could hope for, just achanceto run.
The steps creaked beneath my feet, and I grasped the railing with my free hand. The darkness made it impossible to take in any details, especially since my eyes hadn’t adjusted yet. Whereas Kase had his house properly sun-proofed so he could be in the main living areas, it seemed Olin went with the dark and dank basement idea.
As I moved through the space, down the steps, I tried to breathe softly, as if that would help hide my presence.
At the bottom of the stairs, I squinted to try to pick up the details. No light streamed in at all, telling me he’d at least properly light-proofed the basement. Slowly, the specifics of the room came into focus.
A couch, a desk, a computer that looked as if it had never been touched. No doubt the place he actually slept might have been even better hidden. The whole ‘coffin’ idea had come from vampires trying to reduce the risk of getting caught in the sun. A well-made coffin could survive most things.
I searched slowly, listening for any sign of movement. The last thing I needed was to end up surprised by…
Well, anything.
