Royal Blood: Templar Series, Book 5

by Debra Dunbar

  “I’m not getting even a trace of blood,” Dario said. “Even with the other odors and twenty-four hours, there should have been a few drops at least.”

  My eyebrows went up. I knew vampires had a great sense of smell, probably equal to that of a bloodhound, but I hadn’t stopped to think what exactly that meant.

  “Maybe he was killed elsewhere and dumped here,” I said. “This is a mixed use area, with commercial buildings a block away from the residential ones. Warehousing, manufacturing, distribution, a deli, a parking lot—there are all sorts of businesses as well as the park nearby. If they were quick about it, they could have left the body on this corner to be found and gone before the residents across the street even noticed they were here.”

  Richelle glanced over at me. It was the first time she’d done so since we’d arrived, and I got the impression that she would have rather I remained silent and let the adults, or vampires, take care of this.

  “Your detective friend said he was found here?” Dario pointed to the sidewalk.

  I nodded. “This side of the power pole, head facing toward Bush Street.”

  There wasn’t any crime scene tape, no chalk outline, nothing to indicate a dead man lay here less than twenty-four hours ago. But it wasn’t like the area could be secured, and I was sure the police would have worked fast to get everything they needed from the scene. Plus both the residents and companies wouldn’t want a glaring reminder that a crime occurred right on their block as they slept.

  “Maybe the warehouse across the street, or one of the residents pressure washed the spot?” I suggested. “Would you be able to smell blood if someone blasted the concrete with water, or bleached it?”

  Dario scrunched up his face. “Not bleach, or I’d definitely smell it. I’d smell that from four blocks away. I hate bleach. It takes me hours to get the scent out of my nose and sinuses.”

  I bit back a smile, making a mental note to check my cleaning supplies.

  “Do humans pressure wash in late November?” Richelle asked. “It’s cold. Wouldn’t there be ice on the sidewalk if they did that?”

  It was cold. I was bundled up in my parka with gloves on. The vampires were dressed as if they were out for a summer stroll.

  “I don’t know.” Dario crouched down and looked around the pole. “Was it sunny yesterday, Aria? Would there be ice, or could it have melted?”

  I squatted down, then swept my finger along a fine dusting of white. “Salt. Maybe someone washed the spot, then put down salt?”

  Dario scowled. “Salt. That’s enough to mess with any blood scent I could pick up. Are you getting anything, Richelle?”

  The woman shook her head, then pulled her phone out as it dinged. “Fidel is just parking the next street over. Let’s see what he has to say.”

  Seconds later an elderly Italian man walked around the corner. Judging from Dario’s and Richelle’s expressions, this was Fidel. Sheesh, why did none of these vampires look like they were supposed to? Where was the slicked back black hair with a prominent widow’s peak? Where was the silk-lined black cape with its sharply pointed collar? Where was the Transylvanian accent? If it hadn’t been for the faint static buzz across my skin that happened when a vampire was near, I wouldn’t have suspected any of these three were more than normal, human, Baltimore citizens.

  “Boss.” Fidel executed a courtly bow toward Dario, then turned to the other vampire. “Richelle.”

  I waited a second, then decided I was done with this bullshit. “Hey.” I stuck my hand out and grabbed the vampire’s. “I’m Aria. The Templar. Nice to meet you. As I’m sure you were told, a deceased human was found here at three o’clock this morning by one of the residents heading off to work. From the puncture wounds on his neck and the amount of blood loss, we suspect he was killed by a vampire.”

  Fidel glanced down at my hand in horror, but didn’t withdraw his own. Instead he looked over to Dario, his expression pleading.

  Taking sympathy on the guy, I withdrew my hand.

  “Aria and I are working on this together as it impacts our relationship with the humans and police in the city. I’d appreciate it if the pair of you treated her as an ally of our family as well as my romantic partner.”

  There was an awkward moment, then both the other vampires gave me a curt nod of recognition. It wasn’t much, but I’d take it.

  “What can you tell us about this area, Fidel?” Dario asked.

  The man shifted his posture, glancing over at me before facing the head of his family. “It’s quiet after dark. Not much of a rich environment, if you get my drift, but I like the vibe. There’s an auction house off Ostend, a couple local bars and a pizzeria. The art gallery sometimes has functions after sunset. Oh, and the ballroom. I love the ballroom. Like I said, not a lot to choose from, but nice folk and there’s all sorts of private places to go with the park and all the warehousing and distribution companies that are closed at night and don’t have much in the way of security.”

  “Anything unusual in the last few nights?” I asked. “Or even in the last few weeks?”

  Tremelay had said the overdose deaths had taken place elsewhere, but I couldn’t believe whatever vampire killed this man bothered to stuff him in a car and drive him halfway through the city. If a rogue was giving Dario the finger by leaving a vampire kill out in the open for the police to find, then he wouldn’t bother dumping the body ten miles from where he’d fed.

  Fidel thought for a moment. “The little market over on Ward. With sunset happening early now that it’s almost winter, they’re open when I’m awake. I like to go in there and pick up some smokes and the occasional can of herring roe. Billy Joe told me a few customers had warned him about some attacks lately. Some nutjob coming out of nowhere, dragging people into alleyways and sexually assaulting them. I didn’t think twice about it until Billy Joe said the attacker was ‘bitey’.”

  The soft fondness as Fidel said Billy Joe’s name told me all I needed to know about his friendship with the store clerk.

  “Did he say if the police were aware of this?” I made a mental note to ask Tremelay to check on sexual assaults in the Pigtown area and if the police had linked any of them to this murder.

  Fidel shook his head. “Billy Joe isn’t fond of law enforcement individuals. Probably because he makes a little money on the side, if you know what I mean.” The vampire lifted two pinched fingers to his mouth and inhaled. “He would have told me if the police were hanging around the neighborhood. I got the impression most of these attacks were in the Franklin Square and Mount Clare area, but he did mention a young man was attacked in Carroll Park, which is just a few blocks away. All male victims, which is why Billy Joe was a bit worried, and why he was telling me.”

  “It’s a lovely park,” Richelle chimed in with a benevolent smile. “There’s a golf course, and many fields for baseball and other activities. There’s even an ice rink. And Charles Carroll’s house.” She sighed. “Such a nice man. He was a supporter of abolition, but he did own slaves. I can’t overlook or excuse that fact, kind and learned as he might have been.”

  I did a double take because Charles Carroll had died in 1783. Richelle’s accent was definitely deep south, and I wondered how she’d met the famous Marylander. I also wondered how she’d come to be a part of Dario’s Balaj when I’d assumed they hadn’t made Baltimore their territory until the late eighteenth century. Had Richelle been turned once Aubin and his vampire family had arrived? Or had she met Charles Carroll early in her life and been turned by a member of Aubin’s family as they came north following their immigration from Haiti?

  And it didn’t escape my notice that Fidel had mentioned Franklin Square where one of the deceased addicts had been found.

  It hadn’t escaped Dario’s notice either. He glanced over at me. “Do you have the address for that deceased addict over in Franklin Square?”

  “Yes, but that was two weeks ago. If you can’t pick up a scent here, then you won’t get one there,�
�� I told him.

  “If I may make a suggestion,” Richelle interjected. “Why don’t we search the park, dividin’ up so we each cover a different area. Mayhap we can pick up the trail of a vampire that clearly isn’t part of our family.”

  “Good idea.” Dario pointed to Fidel. “You take the south end working north. Richelle, you take this end heading south. Aria and I will check out a few of these businesses and alleyways and see if we can pick anything up there. If this is the work of that group of rogues we’ve been hearing about, then they’re most likely holing up somewhere around the area during daylight hours.”

  With a “yes, boss” and a blur of speed, Fidel vanished. Richelle took a more leisurely pace, disappearing once she reached the shadows of a cluster of trees. Dario kept his speed to my quick walk and we headed down the street. The first block had clearly occupied residential homes on either side, so we kept moving. Next was a parking lot with cracked asphalt and a handful of cars. We were close to the north end of the park where Richelle was searching, so we turned left and walked up the next street. The occasional car went past, but the neighborhood was mostly silent except for some muted television noise from a few of the houses, and the faint sound of music coming from a corner deli.

  Heading east, we looped down another street, this one a mix of residential and commercial.

  “How about that?” I pointed across the street to a multistory building whose painted exterior proclaimed it to be a sign shop.

  “Looks like they’re still in business,” Dario said. “Vampires wouldn’t risk staying in an occupied building. We need something abandoned.”

  Down from the building was a block of six garages. I wasn’t sure if they were for the owners of the neat row houses across the street, the sign company, or leased independently.

  “What about a garage?” I asked.

  Dario nodded. “That’s a good place for a vampire to bed down for the day,”

  We headed that way, picking up the pace as we neared the garages.

  “Would you be able to smell if one’s been here?” I was jogging to keep up at this point.

  “It depends on when they were in the area last and how long they stayed.” He stopped at the first unit, running his hand along the edge of the garage door and leaning close. “If one or more vampires is using one of these garages for daytime shelter, then I should be able to tell.”

  He moved on to the next one, and I followed, feeling a bit useless. My nose was registering nothing except the usual city-at-night smells, and in the dim glow of the streetlights, everything was a muted shade of gray. I wasn’t picking up the sensation of any vampire except Dario, but there was never any residual or lingering impression once a vampire had left my general area, so that wasn’t surprising.

  Not happy being the tag-along girlfriend or potential damsel-in-distress, I pulled my sword from its scabbard and decided the least I could do was watch Dario’s back. He might sense a threat and react faster than me, but I had a blessed sword and a spelled butter knife on my side.

  Dario eyed my sword. “Is something coming?”

  “I don’t know. Is something coming?”

  He grinned and turned to the next garage door. “Hopefully not. If something is coming it’s going to be a headless something in short order.”

  I immediately thought back on my conversation with my parents over Thanksgiving. “It might already be headless. Did you know that the Krasue looks like a floating female head with entrails below the neck?”

  Dario shot me a horrified glance. “A what?”

  “A beautiful female head with a bunch of guts hanging from her neck. Some references claim she is a normal woman during the day, but at night she’s consumed by hunger and that’s when her head detaches and goes hunting without her body. Other references say she’s nocturnal sleeping underground during the day and never has a body but is always a floating head and guts.”

  “That…that’s… Is that a real thing?” Dario eyed me skeptically.

  “Oh yes, although there aren’t many of them. They’re mostly in Thailand, Laos, and Cambodia, although there have been sightings elsewhere in Southeast Asia. The Krasue doesn’t have wings, but floats and flies around, probably because she doesn’t have legs and rolling on the ground isn’t an optimal mode of transportation when you’ve got entrails dangling from your neck. Oh, and she’s got super sharp fangs and drinks blood, just like vampires.”

  “I’m so glad I’ve got legs and arms,” Dario muttered turning back to the garage door.

  Me too. I stood guard as he continued his examination, edging our way along the row. At the last door, I saw him tense and look down at the padlock.

  “Let me,” I told him, knowing he was planning on just yanking the lock from the door. My way was quieter, and if we found nothing, we could replace the undamaged lock and leave the belongings secure.

  Putting my sword back in the scabbard, I pulled a keyring from my pocket.

  “You pick locks?” Dario eyed the keys which were clearly not lock picks.

  “Yes, but magic is faster.” With a whispered word, one of my keys glowed blue. I inserted it into the lock, twisted and smiled as it sprang open. “See? Easy-peasy lemon-squeezy.”

  The vampire rolled his eyes. “I still don’t know what that means.”

  Not bothering to explain it for the tenth time, I removed the lock and stood aside as Dario eased the garage door open. Given we were having a casual conversation, I assumed there wasn’t any threat of attack from inside, but I still held out a hand to caution Dario and pulled my butter knife from my pocket.

  As my eyes adjusted to the dim light inside the garage I saw a shelving unit toward the back holding what looked like car parts and paint cans. Leaning against the wall in a corner were a stack of folding chairs. Some dilapidated boxes sagged next to them and on the other side were a few sturdy large plastic bins with lids. It was what was staining the concrete in the empty center of the small garage that caught my eye.

  It could be spots of oil from a leaky engine. Or it could be blood. Judging from the way Dario’s nostrils flared, I was guessing blood.

  I couldn’t smell anything beyond mildew and dust, but it wasn’t a whole lot of blood, and it clearly wasn’t fresh. Holding up my butter knife, I whispered a few words and the garage lit with a faint, warm light. A few sections glowed red, and I reached out to grab Dario’s arm.

  “Hang on. There’s magic.”

  I felt his arm muscles bunch beneath my hand. “I smell human blood, about a day old. Not much of it either, so if this was where that man was killed, they did a clean and efficient job of feeding.”

  “They?” My heart sank. “You smell more than one vampire?”

  He nodded. “Six. Two humans—one male and one female.”

  One female? “Two different types of blood?” I asked, wondering where the body of the woman could possibly be.

  He shook his head. “No, just the man’s blood.”

  “Then the woman is the mage, unless vampires would be carrying and using spelled items.”

  “I doubt it,” he replied. “We’re not averse to using a magical item, but it’s just not normally necessary unless we know we’re needing to go up against something big. I can’t see why a group of rogues who’ve joined together to hunt and carve out a portion of our territory would bother. And I doubt they’d have the resources to obtain a magical item anyway.”

  “They’re not just some ragtag bunch of rogues if they’re with a mage,” I told him. “Either they’ve got money enough to hire one, or they’re working for her.”

  He grimaced. “I don’t like either one of those scenarios.”

  Me either.

  “Let’s see what kind of magic we’re dealing with before we start to worry.” I let go of his arm and took a step into the room, setting the butter knife on a plastic tub to free up my hands for my sword. The red on each of the four walls turned out to be a spell I knew and had been trying to master mys
elf the last month. I carefully scrutinized each of the symbols and decided to leave them in place.

  “Silence spell,” I mouthed to Dario, because if I’d spoken the words he wouldn’t have heard them. Everything that took place inside the garage was inaudible to anyone outside. It was a very useful spell if you were a vampire with a screaming captive, or a mage who didn’t want the neighbors to know what was going on in your basement.

  Dario’s phone buzzed and I waited to go to the other magical item until he’d checked his messages.

  “Fidel hasn’t come across anything so far, but is widening his search. Richelle scented an unknown vampire near one of the ballfields. I’m asking her to hold in place until I can get Madeline to join her.” Dario looked up at me. “I don’t want to risk her running into a gang of six rogues unless she’s got backup.”

  I nodded then turned my attention to the other red glowing thing in the corner of the room, almost hidden by the stack of folding chairs. It was a splintered rod of hemlock, half of what had once been a wand. The magic was a weird mishmash of what looked like it could have been a safeguard spell and one that I’d never seen before.

  I pulled a little velvet bag out of my pocket and turned it inside out, sticking my hand into it before picking up the broken wand. Then I pulled the bag from my hand, sealing the magical item inside. The red vanished instantly and I motioned for Dario to enter.

  “Silence spell,” I told him pointing at the walls. “I don’t know what the heck this is in the null-bag, but I’ll take it back to my place and see if I can figure it out.”

  Dario nodded, looking around the room and taking everything in before bending down to pick something up. “Six vampires, one male human victim, one female human mage, and this.”

  I edged nearer to see him holding a broken glass vial.

  “Heroin.” The vampire set the vial on top of an old paint can. “I can smell it on the glass, but not in the blood on the floor.”

  I frowned, having a hard time putting this all together. “So they lured a man here, or brought one here. They fed from him, and possibly drained him if this was the same man that was found dead early this morning. Then what? They accidently broke the heroin they were going to give him?” I fingered the bag. “And the wand? There’s no sign of a struggle that I can see.”