Keys tapped, then she said, "Not a lot. It's an old government housing development that has been listed for demolition for the last ten years. It's become a squat for itinerants and the homeless, apparently."
"Well, it's now the home of a rather large vampire community. A youngish one, too."
"Impossible. Vampires don't pack like you wolves do."
"Well, tell that to the vamps here."
She grunted. "There's nothing in the files here about it."
"Then you'd better make a note and let Jack know. He may want to investigate."
"It's noted. Talvin's nearby if you need him."
"Thanks. I'll yell if I do."
"Don't yell too late, wolf girl. Talvin doesn't appreciate picking up the bits."
"Well, I don't appreciate being bits."
I slowed as I neared the fourth-floor landing. The unwashed scent still clung to the air, and my infrared sight picked out several vamps hovering down the right-hand corridor, the heat of their bodies standing out sharply against the surrounding darkness. I looked left. No vamps.
Fortunately, Ben's friend lived in apartment 41, which, according to the signage on the walls, was the very last one on the left. My boot heels clicked sharply against the threadbare carpeting, the sound echoing across the thick air, as steady as a heartbeat. Just not my heartbeat.
The closer I got to apartment 41, the more tense I became. The soft scent of blood was now beginning to perfume the air, but there didn't seem to be any unusual noises coming from the apartment. No sounds of fighting, nothing to indicate anything was out of order.
Maybe Ben's friend had simply gotten a little paranoid about living amongst all these vampires. Or maybe he'd cut himself shaving and had panicked about the consequences.
I stopped when I reached the door, then flexed my fingers and raised a hand to knock.
That's when I heard it. A soft, hair-on-the-back-of-the-neck-raising moan.
The sort of moan that came from the dying.
I stepped back, raised a foot, and kicked the door open. It smashed back against the wall, sending dust and plaster flying. The thick smell of wrongness and vampire rushed out, overwhelming my senses and making me want to gag. Or maybe that was a reaction to the sight before me.
A naked man hung from a ceiling rafter - not from his neck but from rope around his wrists. Rope as bloody as his shredded back and butt.
The man causing all the damage was the source of both the vampire scent and the wrongness. And his scent was one I recognized.
"I told you - " he began, as he swung around, then stopped. His expression changed from one of annoyance to surprise, then, without the barest flicker in his bloodshot brown eyes to warn me, he turned and bolted for a doorway at the rear of the living room.
I sprinted after him, the smell of blood, sweat, and fear heavy in my nostrils as I ran past the naked man. The wrong-smelling vamp had disappeared into what looked like a bedroom.
I ran into the room just in time to see him leap for the window. Glass shattered, spraying outward into the night as he plunged through and down.
The drop wouldn't kill a vamp. It might damage him, but vamps were a resilient lot. Unfortunately, in this case.
I cursed and spun around. I might be able to take a seagull's shape, but hitting the ground from the height of a fourth-floor window would be a hell of a lot harder than hitting it from the top branches of a tree. And while I had flown briefly - and successfully - today, I didn't feel like putting my life on the line to test out my new-found skills. As I ran past the bloodied and still-bound Ivan, I said, "He's running. I'll be back in a minute."
"Wait," he said, voice hoarse. "Wait - "
I didn't. The vamps out in the corridor had drawn closer, perhaps lured by the sharper scent of blood.
"Touch him and you all pay the price!" I dragged my badge out of my pocket again and thrust it in front of me. I didn't know if it would actually help, and I couldn't afford to hang around and find out. Not if I wanted to stop the vamp.
Because a vamp willing to go to such extremes of torture before tasting his victim's blood was a vamp who would not stop at just one victim.
Once upon a time, I might have taken care of the living before chasing after the dead, but I'd learned the hard way that such actions generally only resulted in more deaths - and I had enough of those on my conscience right now.