“Meaning you can smell them from out here?”
“Werewolves have a keen sense of smell, remember? But in this case, there appears to have been major bowel leakage after death.”
“Great,” I muttered, and wondered why that seemed so much worse than the many other gruesome things I’d seen over recent months.
I unscrewed the lid, scooped up some of the VapoRub, and dabbed it under each nostril. The menthol scent had me blinking back tears—it seemed ten times stronger than I remembered. I resisted the urge to immediately wipe it off and followed him into the cottage. The small front room held a large-screen TV, a fireplace that held only a few glowing embers, and two generously padded sofas. A couple of mugs sat on the coffee table as well as several take-out containers. There was little to suggest evil had been here.
I walked around the room, skimming the top of the sofas and coffee table with an outstretched hand. While psychometry generally worked better with possessions worn close to the skin—things like necklaces, rings, or watches, rather than items of clothing—it was still possible to feel or even track someone through items they may have touched for a few hours. Of course, contact did have to be very recent, and that wasn’t the case here.
Not that I expected anything else, but still…
I motioned Aiden on. The next room was a combined kitchen and dining area that ran the full width of the house; there were dishes in the sink and two coats slung over the dining chairs. A large glass sliding door led out to a covered patio deck and, to the right of this, was the door that no doubt led into the rear bedroom.
Unsurprisingly, the pulse of evil—and the smell of shit—emanated from it. The Vicks wasn’t doing a whole lot to combat it, either.
I did a circuit around the kitchen and living area, just in case, but again, there was nothing. Whoever—whatever—had caused these deaths hadn’t entered the rest of the house. And that meant the entity responsible knew exactly where his victims were—not hard for a vampire, as they could hear the pulse of life from some distance away.
I took a deep breath to gather courage—a major mistake given the foul scents in the air—and then followed Aiden into the bedroom. It was as bad as I feared it would be, but it wasn’t just the smell of shit and urine that had me gasping. It was the emotion—the realization and terror of death that lingered in the air.
At least one of the two people on the bed had been awake when they’d been attacked.
I swallowed heavily and quickly shored up my mental shields. While I’d long ago learned to protect myself against emotions—be they via touch or the ones that lingered in the air after traumatic events such as this—my control had been somewhat spotty recently. Either that, or my ability to sense emotions was getting stronger… which shouldn’t be possible, but that seemed to be a recurring theme in this place.
I finally looked at the bed. It was a massive, wrought-iron thing that made the two people lying on it seem diminutive. Both were naked, appeared to be in their mid-twenties and, at first glance, showed no obvious sign of injury or trauma. I hesitated, and then followed Aiden across the spacious room, stopping at the end of the bed while he continued on to the side of it.
I crossed my arms and tried to ignore the thick caress of fear and evil. “Are we dealing with the same predator who took out the groom last week?”
He nodded and pointed a gloved finger at a small wound just under the man’s ribs. “It certainly appears to be the same MO, although we’ll need an autopsy to confirm it.” He glanced at me. “I didn’t think vampires could cross thresholds without invitation.”
“They generally can’t, although that rule only applies to personal residences rather than commercial, and this would probably qualify as the latter.” I rubbed my arms against the pressing weight of emotion. I had no idea which of these two had been awake when evil had preyed on them—fear didn’t tend to have an overly male or female feel—and I really didn’t want to dip into either of their minds and experience that death firsthand. But what choice did I really have if we wanted to stop this thing before it took more lives? “Do you still want me to attempt the reading?”
His gaze rose to mine, concern evident. “Can you?”
“Their emotions linger, so there’s a slight chance I might be able to pull something out. Don’t get your hopes up, though.”
He nodded and pulled out his phone. “I’ll take some photos while you contact Belle and get set up.”
I silently reached out. After a couple of moments, Belle said, What’s up?
I’m about to read the minds of a dead couple. Not sure if I’ll actually get anything because they’ve been dead for a while, but I’ve got to try.
Is this related to last week’s murder?
It seems so.
Hang on then, and I’ll go grab Monty. He can keep an eye out for me; it’s damn crowded here, and I’d hate anyone to distract me when you’re mind diving.
Good idea. Although I daresay his date wouldn’t be too happy about him suddenly abandoning her for another woman.
Her mind slipped from mine, and I used the time to study the two victims with my ‘other’ senses. The thick, dark emotion I was sensing seemed to be hovering over the man more than the woman, suggesting he was the one who’d woken in the midst of the attack. So why hadn’t he reacted? Why had he simply lain there? Did the thing behind these murders have a means of immobilizing its victims? Vampires could certainly alter perceptions so that they sometimes appeared to disappear, but that was simply a psychic ability—a type of telepathy that clouded rather than controlled.
But vampires generally left distinct bite marks behind, and there were no such marks here—only that small, half-inch cut just under their ribs.
That very much suggested we were dealing with something other than a vampire, which in some respects, was a shame. At least if it had been a vampire, we could have gone to Maelle Defour for help. She was the reservation’s resident bloodsucker, although few outside the council actually knew that. The rangers certainly hadn’t been told, and I sure as hell wasn’t going to be the one to do so. Aside from the fact I’d promised not to, the bitch was scary. She definitely wasn’t someone I wanted to be on the wrong side of.
But she was someone we should probably talk to, and the sooner the better. If there was another vampire lurking, she’d know about it.
Righto, Belle said. We’ve been ushered into a private room, and Monty’s on door watch.