Sweet Last Drop

by Melody Johnson

  Jeremy’s eye widened. “You don’t think Bex will take care of it?”

  “Bex alters evidence and memories to keep the existence of vampires a secret. If this wasn’t a vampire attack—”

  Jeremy shook his head. “I don’t know what it was.”

  Walker shrugged. “Then I don’t know what she’ll do.”

  My phone vibrated against my side, Maroon 5’s Maps jamming from inside the inner pocket of my jacket. I glanced out the window at the matte, black night sky. The moon was still bright and high, but the stars were dull, nearly invisible in the dim early morning. Dominic’s threat to visit if I didn’t call before sunrise was like the burning jolt of a cattle prod. I jumped to my feet and regretted the instant electric pain that tore through my hip.

  Walker, Ronnie, and Jeremy stared at me.

  “I’m sorry. I’ve got to answer this.”

  Walker opened his mouth. By the set of his eyebrows, he looked about to argue the interruption.

  “Of course,” Ronnie said graciously. “Nothing too serious, I hope.”

  Jeremy squinted at Ronnie like she was an idiot. “What could be more serious than my blood at the scene of a murder investigation?”

  “Don’t be dramatic,” Walker said coolly. “At the moment, it’s still an animal attack.”

  “The FBI doesn’t get called in for animal attacks,” I murmured.

  Walker glared at me. “If we play it right, they’ll just consider him a victim.”

  “FBI?” Jeremy asked. “I am just a victim!”

  My phone stopped ringing, but the resulting silence only heightened my urgency. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

  I turned on my heel into the hallway and eased down the steps. My hip protested painfully, but I needed privacy for a conversation with Dominic. Walls were thin, and I didn’t want anyone, especially Walker, knowing that I confided regularly with the enemy.

  The only enclosed room on the first floor that I had at my disposal was once again, unfortunately, the bathroom.

  * * * *

  Adam Levine’s clear, prepubescent singing voice pierced the air just as I shut the bathroom door behind me. I locked it this time.

  I fished my phone from my pocket, and sure enough, the bat I’d uploaded in lieu of Dominic’s picture flashed and vibrated in rhythm with Maroon 5. The time flashed at me, too, and my panic eased slightly. He was calling me fifteen minutes before sunrise. I hadn’t missed my scheduled phone meeting again; he was calling me early.

  I sighed with relief and slid my thumb over the screen to answer. “I still had another fifteen minutes,” I said. Feeling anxious and uncertain always made me angry, so I added, “What happened to your hard-won, everlasting patience?”

  My question was met with silence.

  “Hello?”

  “I thought you’d be interested to discover a curious development in Detective Greta’s investigation. Such a conversation would likely exceed five minutes, but perhaps I was mistaken.”

  I smiled. Dominic’s tone was more formal than ever, but I heard an unmistakable hitch and tremor in his voice. He was amused. He knew how much I wanted information on Greta’s murder investigation. I’d want to know enough to happily endure an extra ten minutes on the phone with him.

  Dominic sighed dramatically. “I can leave you to your business with Walker if you prefer.”

  “No, that’s not necessary,” I said hastily. “I appreciate the call.”

  “Ah,” Dominic said, and this time, I could actually hear the light puffs of his laugh. “That’s what I thought.”

  “It figures, though,” I muttered, “that there would be a break in the case as soon as I leave the city.”

  Dominic snorted lightly. Even his snort sounded formal. “I thought you would be happy on behalf of your dear friend’s good fortune and the good fortune of the city without thinking of your own personal agenda. I’m sorry you cannot capitalize on her success.”

  I pursed my lips. “I am happy for Greta, but still, I—”

  “Nevertheless,” Dominic interrupted in a sudden, theatrical tone. “You may rest assured that no such break has occurred in her investigation.”

  “But you said—”

  “I said there was a curious development. You jumped to the inaccurate conclusion that Greta solved something. The police department is no closer to discovering who is responsible for the murders than I am.”

  I rubbed my eyes. “This could have easily been a five-minute conversation if I was having it with someone else. Anyone else.”

  “I’m glad to hear you’ve retained your sense of humor despite being in Walker’s constant presence.”

  I eased myself onto the toilet seat’s lid, resigning myself to his lengthy, circular logic.

  “Are you all right?” Dominic asked, his tone suddenly serious.

  “Yes, of course.” I said absently, thinking about the case. “If there wasn’t a break in the investigation, what is the ‘curious development?’”

  My question was once again met with silence. I resisted the urge to say ‘hello’ again. I knew he was there, but it took more willpower than I’d like to admit to wait him out.

  My patience didn’t go unrewarded.

  “You are not all right. I heard your intake of breath and your heartbeat accelerate a second ago,” he said finally. “You released an audible wince.”

  I made a rude noise in the back of my throat. “Can you please stop using your vampire senses on me and hold a normal conversation?”

  “I don’t need vampire senses to hear you wince. You are in pain. Did Bex—”

  “I’m always in pain,” I snapped. “It’s just a part of my life now, and it always will be.”

  Dominic paused a moment. Silences during our conversations were always dead silences because unlike everyone else, Dominic didn’t always bother to breathe. Breathing was more for my benefit than his, but more often than not, he preferred to forgo my peace of mind in favor of reality. I’d been sickened by Dominic’s true nature, but now, having met Bex and her attempts to humanize her appearance for Walker, I was finding new appreciation for Dominic’s honesty.

  “You will not always be in pain,” Dominic said in a low voice.

  “Yes, I will.” The phone trembled against my ear, and I realized how hard I was squeezing it. “Even if I get the surgery you mentioned earlier today, it’s only a temporary solution. I’d have to endure physical therapy again, and after struggling through recovery, I’d be in the same boat five or ten years from now when the scar tissue and bone spurs build back up. I don’t even need to bear weight anymore for the pain to spike. I can barely walk.” I felt the hot spring of tears fill my eyes as I voiced the festering, expanding fear, the greatest fear of my life, even since discovering the existence of vampires. “In another few years, I’ll need a wheelchair to be mobile.”

  “No you won’t,” Dominic said in that same low, steady tone. “Vampires do not bear the pain of their human afflictions. You’ll keep the scar, as I have,” he said, referencing the jagged, raised scar across his lip and chin, “but your body will transmit pain differently as a vampire. Your nerve endings will no longer register the pain of your arthritis.”

  “I will never be a vampire, so that doesn’t apply to me,” I said automatically.

  Dominic sighed, audibly taking a breath over the phone. “In your limited understanding, you perceive many disadvantages to the transformation, but there are numerous advantages as well, some as simple as the cure to your physical ailments.”

  “I’ve been in pain since you met me. You have connected with my mind on several occasions. You’ve felt what I feel on a daily basis.”

  “I can feel what you feel right now if I concentrate hard enough.”

  I let that comment slide as it was disturbing on multiple levels. “Then why, in all this time, is the topic of my chronic arthritis being discussed? Why now?”

  “I o
nly bring it up now because of the hopelessness I hear in your voice,” Dominic admitted. “I would not want you to lose hope in your human life and do something drastic to ease the pain before I turn you.”

  “Listen to the words coming out of my mouth,” I gritted from between clenched teeth. He was so bull-headedly infuriating. “You are not turning me. Ever.”

  “But there are more advantages to the transformation than you could ever imagine, some that I couldn’t even describe to you sufficiently enough for you to comprehend. Some things you simply must experience,” he said, ignoring my frustration. “I’ve already divulged too much.”

  “Why have you divulged too much?” I asked, baffled and curious despite my anger.

  “Because I want you to embrace the transformation in loyalty, knowing that you will be a serving, faithful member of my coven. If you embrace the transformation solely for selfish motivations, you could destroy my coven, and I will not allow that to happen, not ever again.”

  “Ah,” I said, “You don’t want me to be another Jillian.”

  “Precisely.”

  “So don’t turn me,” I said breezily. “Problem solved.”

  “Like I said, there is more to being a vampire than you could ever imagine without experiencing it. One day, you’ll understand.”

  “No I won’t,” I said stubbornly. I wasn’t the only one here who was bull-headed. I glanced at the phone’s screen to check the time. “We now have five minutes, and you have yet to divulge anything about Greta or her investigation. The last I heard, our unsub was working toward body number fifteen, and Greta’s team didn’t have one suspect.”

  “Unsub?”

  “Unidentified subject. It’s a term the FBI used when they joined her investigation last week.” I pinched the bridge of my nose to stave off a coming headache. “Tell me his kills haven’t escellated. Tell me we have a real lead on this guy.”

  “On the contrary,” Dominic said, “no one was killed last night.”

  I waited for more, but my waiting was met with more silence.

  “That’s it?” I asked, nearly squeaking with disbelief. “That’s your big news?!”

  “I don’t want to jinx it, but considering that sunrise is mere minutes away, I think I can safely say that no one has been killed tonight, either.”

  I massaged my temples. “Nothing. You got me excited for literally nothing.” Then the light dawned. “You think the murders are vampire-related.”

  “I said no such thing,” Dominic said, his tone scolding.

  “You didn’t have to. You said, ‘considering that sunrise is minutes away,’ implying that the murderer is bound by the sun, in turn, implying a vampire.” I said.

  “Nice try, but no,” Dominic said coolly, his tone less amused. “If the murderer was a vampire, I would know.”

  “Not to pick at fresh scabs, but Jillian was a vampire, and you didn’t know about her rebellion. I think it’s entirely possible that a vampire is committing mass murders and you might not know.”

  Dominic let out a choking noise. When he finally spoke, he growled. “That wound has not scabbed yet, and since Jillian, I have tightened my control of the coven—”

  “You’re losing more of your powers every day as the Leveling approaches.”

  “—and you would appreciate that tenuous control if you had ever seen me in command of my full powers. Not all of my vampires want to usurp my rule. In fact, most want me to survive the Leveling.”

  “But the few who don’t might be committing mass murder.”

  He growled louder. “You are missing the point of my news entirely.”

  “Fine,” I conceded. “What is your point?”

  “My point,” he snapped. “Is that the murderer has killed one person every night for the last two weeks.”

  “I’m still waiting on your point.”

  “One person every night. It’s a pattern. Your FBI refers to it as an M.O. Why now, all of a sudden and for no apparent reason, has he not struck two nights in a row? Why would his M.O. change?”

  I sighed. “A serial killer satisfies his or her urges through killing. There’s usually a cooling period until the urges return, and then he kills again. Our guy’s cooling period is relatively short, and he kills the next night.” I frowned. “If anything, his cooling period would diminish over time, not lengthen. He should be killing more people per night, not less, and he certainly wouldn’t stop entirely.”

  “Well, Greta’s serial killer has stopped entirely for two nights in a row, and neither Greta nor the FBI seem to know why.”

  “Wonderful.” I sighed. “At least you’re right about one thing.”

  Dominic snorted. “I’m right about everything.”

  “I’m not missing out on breaking news. I can only hope when the FBI arrive, they’ll be more helpful here than they’ve been in the city.”

  Dominic didn’t speak for a long moment. “Why would the FBI follow you from the city to Erin, New York?”

  “Because instead of bringing the weather with me, I brought the crime. We have two murder scenes and three victims in the span of two days, and the Sheriff here didn’t wait for a third scene before calling in the feds.”

  “In the span of two days or two nights?” Dominic asked. “The same nights that our murderer didn’t strike here?”

  I opened my mouth and closed it, shocked into silence. “It can’t be the same murderer,” I whispered.

  “Little Erin, New York experienced the two murders that we were supposed to experience here in the city. It’s entirely possible.”

  “I was just joking about the crime following me.” My heart pounded through my sternum, its beat frantic. “Why would he come here to Erin, of all places?”

  “What do you know about the case?” Dominic asked. Of all my interaction with him, I’d never heard his voice sound so calm and yet so utterly serious.

  “Not much, actually. Greta was very tight-lipped about it. But—” I hesitated. One lead linked the murders here in Erin, and now that I thought about it, if the murderer had indeed followed me, it may have been the very reason why Greta was so tight-lipped.

  “But…” Dominic encouraged.

  When I first met Dominic, I thought he was a sociopath capable of murders—degrading, unimaginable murders like the cases we were investigating—and I wouldn’t have thought twice about blaming him for them. I thought he was a monster with no regard for other people’s pain, suffering, life, or loss. Now, I knew Dominic cared about many things, myself included. He was still a monster and manipulative, cold, calculating and for a man to be powerful—physically, mentally, in every way possible—but I also knew that Dominic was not responsible for these murders. He was certainly capable of them, there was no doubt, but leaving kills out for public display and eating their hearts wouldn’t have served his purposes or brought him closer to achieving any of his goals.

  “But…” I said, slowly. Knowing he wasn’t responsible for the murders, I knew I could trust him, but confiding in him would break my confidence with Walker. I sighed. “Walker wasn’t as tight-lipped about the case here.”

  “Of course he wasn’t,” Dominic said, and a tinge of jealousy crept into his tone.

  “He could have easily kept the information to himself,” I said defensively. “The police here in Erin aren’t as forthcoming as Greta and Harroway.”

  “I wouldn’t expect them to be. You’ve never saved their lives like you have Greta and Harroway. They don’t owe you any favors.”

  “Greta and Harroway don’t owe me anything.”

  “But I have no doubt—” Dominic continued as if I hadn’t interrupted, “—that Walker will share all of his information with you, whether he owes you anything or not.”

  “Which is good of him, considering we need to know all the information we can get,” I argued.

  “Yes, it is good of him. I never said otherwise, however—”

  �
�Your tone said otherwise.”

  “However,” Dominic pressed, “I wouldn’t get too paranoid about the case until we have proof that the crime literally followed you. All we have thus far is speculation, and it’s a bit far-fetched.”

  “Vampires exist,” I said grouchily. “Nothing is far-fetched.”

  Dominic sighed. “What information did our Ian Walker confide in you?”

  I sighed, equally frustrated. “The hearts are missing.”

  Silence.

  “Hello!” I snapped. “I can’t infer what you’re thinking by your expression because I can’t see you. When you’re on the phone with someone, you actually have to speak to them to carry a conversation!”

  “How exactly are the hearts missing?”

  I blinked. “In how many ways can a heart be missing?”

  “In shredded, bitten pieces. In pieces, but whole. Entirely, but nearby. Entirely missing. From under the sternum. Through the ribs. From over—”

  “I get your point,” I said hastily, before he could finish his recitation. “Entirely missing. The first victim was so torn apart, I doubt the medical examiner could determine the means of removal. I’m not sure about the other two victims, but from what I’ve gathered, their bodies were found in the same state as the first victim. In pieces.”

  “I thought they were found in the State of New York.”

  I opened my mouth and after a moment of stunned silence, I closed it, resigning myself to not having a response.

  “Too soon?” he asked.

  “A few weeks ago, you never would have made that joke,” I said quietly.

  I could hear Dominic’s breathing in the silence this time. “A few weeks ago,” he said softly, “I didn’t know you.”

  The line went dead.

  Chapter 5

  When I was in high school, my parents had strict rules against piercings and tattoos, so in rebellion, I had my belly button pierced on my fifteenth birthday. Mandy Hopkins and I were in newspaper club together, and her brother, Morgan, was practicing to become a tattoo artist. He had gnarly-looking tattoos of random animals, skulls, and bands intermixed with blobs of indeterminate shape and color covering his entire body—his first attempts at artistry. There was definitely a learning curve to tattooing.