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I pulled open the drawers of the desk, sorting through the items there. Bills, paperwork, things that were oddly normal. It was weird to think of Olin sitting down at the desk, a credit card in his hand as he called in to pay his car loan. If the learning curve for new technology was so high for old people, imagine how it was for vampires pushing five-hundred years.
As I went through the items, I caught a few details about Olin.
He drove sports cars—there were loans for at least three different ones—and the payments were as much as my rent. He never used his computer, which I could tell by it having a mouse with a ball and the monitor taking up half the desk.
All in all, I found nothing about Rachel, nothing that gave me any insight into where he might have gone or what he might be into.
What was I hoping for? Maybe a large pentagram drawn in blood on the floor that let me go, ‘oh, look, he’s into some weird demonic shit.’
Instead, I got glimpses of his life, and it wasn’t all that different from mine.
Well, less trash reality TV and more murdering, but otherwise?
The same.
I dropped into the chair in the corner of the room, less dust flying up than I’d expected. He must have sat in that place most of the time. A table to the left had books piled up on it, and as I examined them, I knew Olin and I could never be friends.
I loved to watch the show about college-aged kids who drank to excess and slept around and cried about it the next day while Olin read classic literature bound in leather.
I picked up a book that reminded me of the ones at Rachel’s and flipped open the pages. A paper slid from the pages of the book and fell to the floor.
I leaned over to grab it, then lifted it close enough to make out the image in the darkness.
Rachel and…Olin?
The two looked happy. Olin’s arm was wrapped around her waist, pulling her against his side as he leaned in to make up for the height difference. They both grinned, their gazes skirting toward one another as though even that small amount of time to snap a picture was too long tonotgaze lovingly at one another.
Had they been together?
The thought was strange. Sure, I knew logically that some women liked vampires. It wasn’t something I understood, but people had weirder kinks. The idea of curling up with something that wanted to kill me seemed like a horribly bad idea. Sleeping with a vampire was like sleeping with a man-eating tiger.
I mean, sure, Kase was good-looking. Even with that slightly unnatural look to his skin, the ever-so-translucent tint oldervampires got when they kept the shade of their skin but lost the glow from the sun.
And, okay, so he was built rather well, at least from what his tailored suits showed, but even then…
A hot killer was still a killer.
I tucked the picture into my jean jacket because it haunted me. I recalled Rachel’s twisted body in that pit, imagined the way she’d died. For a moment I was thankful that I hadn’t found her spirit. Those killed horrifically could be a challenge to talk to. They’d suffered a trauma, and death didn’t wipe that away. She’d not only been murdered—which let’s be honest was a pretty terrible thing to happen—but it was by someone shehad known.The way she was pressed against his side showed trust.
I turned the corner to take the stairs and something caught me. I didn’t even have time to evaluate what it might be. All I saw in my head was the lifeless form Olin had left Rachel as.
And he’d evenlikedher.
I doubted he felt so positively toward me.
I swung the thin spike at the person who had grabbed me, ready to end them. ‘Live and let live’ also meant the opposite.
Fuck with me and I’m going to give killing you a good try.
The spike found nothing but air, and my hand was knocked aside. Something solid but without temperature caught my wrist and threw me backward. I hit the wall hard enough to drive the breath from my lungs and remind myself that being tossed around was not my idea of a good time.
Instead of the snarling Olin I expected, however, Grant stood in the dimly lit room, his hand lifted toward me.
I couldn’t move. My wrists were pinned to the wall, my body just as stuck. Even when I jerked, nothing budged.
“Would you let me go?”
He smiled and closed the distance between us. “You still look rather feral. Maybe it’s best to keep you exactly like this.” He took the hand not lifted—no doubt that one was busy keeping me stuck there—and traced his fingers over my jawline. “Plus, you’re far easier to follow if you can’t move.”
