“Yes, you do. You make me so happy.” I stepped over to him, meaning to reassure him. “But maybe that’s not the only thing in life that matters.”
A knock at the French doors made Matilda bark, and Leif stood outside in the snow, tapping at the door. Jack rolled his eyes and stood up straighter, but he didn’t go anywhere. I waved Leif in, and he opened the door, letting an icy draft blow in.
“Is this a bad time?” Leif asked.
“Yes,” Jack said too loudly, and I shot him a look.
“No, come on in,” I told Leif, giving him a much softer look than one I gave Jack. “We’re just talking.”
“I didn’t mean to interrupt. The snow’s been really coming down today, but I can always find another place to sleep, if it’s a problem.” Leif had stepped inside the house, but he waited by the open door, ready for us to kick him to the streets.
“You know you’re always welcome here,” I said, but Leif looked at Jack, waiting for him to give his approval. When Jack didn’t say anything, I hit him in the arm. “Isn’t he, Jack?”
“Yes,” Jack said.
“I really don’t want to bother-” Leif started.
“No, you’re fine,” Jack said and waved him in. “You can crash on the couch in the living room if you want. The blankets and stuff are in the hall closet, and you can get cleaned up or whatever.”
“Thank you,” Leif said gratefully as he walked past us, down the hall.
“I see how it is,” Jack smiled after Leif had disappeared down the hall.
“What?” I asked.
“You do too think this is our house. If this really felt like my house, and not yours too, you wouldn’t have invited him in,” Jack said, looking a bit too smug.
“Oh, come off it! It’s supposed to snow like 12 inches by tomorrow. He doesn’t need to sleep outside in this,” I said.
“I wouldn’t make him sleep outside, but I’m not gonna pretend that we’re not in the middle of fighting just because he showed up.”
“You’re being rude,” I lowered my voice, even though Leif could probably hear everything I said anyway.
“You’re being rude,” Jack countered.
“How am I being rude?”
“Your brother had no problem changing his name. He’s more connected to me than you are.”
“That’s not rude! That’s just… Ugh!” I groaned, completely irritated by this whole thing. “My name is Alice Bonham because I am Alice Bonham! Why is that so hard for you to understand?”
“Didn’t you read Romeo & Juliet?” Jack asked. “A rose would still smell sweet and all that? You won’t stop being you if you change your name.”
“And I won’t turn into something else if I do change it, so what does it matter? Why can’t I just stay the same?” I asked.
“Your name is Alice Bonham,” Leif said. I looked away from Jack to see Leif standing at the edge of the room, holding blankets and pillows. His skin looked pale, and his expression had hardened.
“Yeah, sorry. You didn’t need to hear all that,” I said, my cheeks reddening.
“You’re from here?” Leif asked.
“That’s another reason you should change your name,” Jack interjected. “So people don’t associate you with the old, human you.”
“I’m not actually from here, so-” I stuck my tongue out at Jack, displaying the full magnitude of my maturity. “I was born in Idaho. We didn’t move here until I was like five because my gramma lived here, but she passed away, so I don’t have any other family to come looking for me.”
“Milo is your real brother?” Leif asked, and even though he was looking at me, I had the impression that he was staring off at something else entirely. “Not like… not like vampires.”
“No, he’s my actual brother. We have the same Mom. But listen, are you alright?” I asked. Something about him suddenly looked off.
“Yes, I’m fine. I think I’m… I’m just tired.” He forced a smile, but it only drew attention to how ill he looked.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Jack asked, and even he sounded concerned, so it had to be bad.
“I’m quite alright.” Leif swallowed and went into the living room.
“Do you think he’s alright?” I whispered to Jack after Leif’d gone. “I mean, can vampires get sick?”
“I don’t know.” Jack shook his head and looked as dumbfounded as I felt. When he met my eyes, he’d softened.
“I don’t wanna fight about this anymore,” I said. “I love you. Can we just leave it at that for now?”
“Yeah. I’m sorry.” He stepped closer to me and looped his arm around my shoulders.
“I don’t understand this, but… I said I’d always do whatever I could to make you happy, so if this makes you happy…”
“It does.” I leaned into him.
Leif had left by the time I got up the next day, but that was nothing new. He usually came and went without much notice.
The snow continued falling, blanketing the world. Jack went outside to clear it up, and even though we had a snow blower, it didn’t really work on the stone patio. He spent the majority of the afternoon shoveling it up, but Matilda was outside “helping” him, so I suspected a lot more time was spent roughhousing than actual shoveling.
Since Jack had the manual labor covered, I went to straighten up the living room. I found Bobby sitting on the couch, his laptop open on his lap.
“Where’s Milo?” I picked up the blanket balled up next to Bobby and began folding it.
“Um, school.” Bobby scrambled to click things on the computer, and when I peeked over to see what he was looking at, he slammed the screen shut. “Milo joined the debate team or something. You can call him if you wanna know for sure.”
“What were you just looking at?” I narrowed my eyes at him.
“Um, me? Nothing.” He flicked his black bangs from his eyes and refused to look at me. “Just browsing. You know, surfing the interweb.”
“You’re being a spaz,” I said. “What are you up to? Downloading porn?”
“Yeah, like I’d look at porn in the living room,” he scoffed. I kept staring at him, so he sighed and opened the laptop. “I just didn’t think you needed to see this.”
“What?” I reached for his computer, tilting the screen towards me, and then I saw it.
7
The giant photo on the screen was color, but the overcast day, gray concrete, and dirty snow almost made it look black and white. I would’ve thought it was, if it wasn’t for the dark reddish stains that spilled out in the center of the photo, and the black policeman’s shoes standing next to it.
The headline over it read, “Minneapolis Officials Deny Serial Killer,” and in smaller print below it, “After the third death in a string of similar murders, residents fear for their safety.”
But I barely even read the words. My eyes were focused on the blood splashed over the sidewalk. I could see just enough of the buildings to make out that it was Hennepin Avenue, where Jane had been found. This was her crime scene.
“That’s… this’s Jane’s blood?” I asked numbly and sat down on the couch next to Bobby.
“Sorry.” Bobby moved to close the box, but I stopped him and took the laptop from him.
“Are you sure wanna look at that?”
“No,” I said but clicked on the link to read the full story.
The article didn’t say much more than Jack had already told me. Three girls, aged eighteen and nineteen, had been left discarded around downtown Minneapolis in the early morning hours. Since the crime scenes yielded no evidence, they assumed the girls had been killed elsewhere and were posed to be found.
The most surreal part of it was reading about Jane in such matter of fact way, like she wasn’t a flesh and blood person I’d known for ten years.
“Jane Kress, 18, is the latest suspected victim. Her body was discovered at 4:35 am on January 16. She suffered multiple stab wounds, like the other two victims.
&nbs
p; Kress had been known to frequent the nightclubs in the area and had returned from a treatment center on January 14. It had been a planned 90-day stay, but Kress left after only 24 days. When asked for comment, both the center and her family declined to say what Kress had been treated for, or what led to her early departure.”
I read the article through three times, and Bobby sat on the couch next to me, saying nothing. I leaned back on the couch, staring at the screen as if I expected something new to happen. But nothing did. It didn’t tell me anything more about why Jane was dead.
“Why were you looking at this?” I asked.
“They were talking about it in class today.” Bobby sounded apologetic and pulled at the ends of his sleeves, making them swallow his hands. “I didn’t know very much about what happened, or her for that matter, so I just… I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have.”
“No, it’s okay.” I shook my head. “I’m not mad.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah. Where did you find this?” I asked.
“I just Googled it,” Bobby shrugged. “Why?”
“Do you think there’s more information?” I was already typing Google in, preparing to do a search for everything I could find on Jane’s murder.
“Yeah, there’s tons of information.” He moved closer so he could look at the screen with me. “A lot of the major news networks have picked up the stories, especially since Jane got murdered.”
“Why?” I glanced over at him as I sifted through the endless list Google gave me, all mentioning Jane’s name.
“Cause she’s rich and beautiful. The other two girls were poor, and one of them was allegedly a hooker,” Bobby said. “But what are you trying to find out?”
“I want to find Jane’s killer.” I paused as Bobby looked expectantly at me. “I’m going to kill him.”
“That’s a little sexist, don’t you think?”
“How is revenge murder sexist?” I shot him a look.
“You automatically assumed her murderer is a guy,” he said. “It could be a girl.” I thought of Violet again, but I pushed her from my mind.
“Serial killers aren’t usually women, but alright, whatever,” I shrugged. “I’m going to kill whoever killed Jane.”
“Do you think a human killed her?” Bobby asked.
I was pleasantly surprised that he hadn’t tried talking me out of it. He didn’t even question it, as if going after a serial killer was the most logical thing in the world. It was stuff like that that made me dig Bobby.
“I don’t know what to think.” I clicked a link and leaned into the screen, devouring as much information about the whole thing as I could. “I mean, at first, I thought it was a vampire. For sure. But now... all these articles are saying there wasn’t a mark on the girls.
”
“That doesn’t mean anything,” Bobby said, and I looked over at him.
“What do you mean?”
“There’s always one detail the police hold back,” he explained. “That’s how they can verify people’s claims when they say they killed her or they saw it happen or whatever.
There’s always one thing they keep out of the press that only the killer would know.”
“And that one thing could be bite marks?” I asked, and my heart thudded in my chest.
“Right,” Bobby nodded. “And I’ve always wondered what kind of relationship vampires had with city officials anyway.”
“What kind of relationship?” I wrinkled my nose.
“Well, remember in the fall, when the lycan killed that guy in the park and Ezra’s car was right there?” Bobby asked. “Ezra got the Lexus out of impound without any problems.
He was never questioned in the homicide, and I’m pretty sure that guy’s murder was written up as mugging related.”
“That could never pass for a mugging,” I said incredulously. “He had his throat ripped out.”
“Exactly,” he nodded. “And V is open until seven in the morning. How could they possibly get licensing for that? And they don’t card anyone that goes in there, ever. It’s easier to get into a vampire club than it is any other club in the city.”
“You think that the city officials are on a vampire payroll or something?” I raised an eyebrow.
“I don’t know,” he shrugged. “Probably not a payroll, but some of them have to be involved with the vampires in some way to cover this all up.”
“And if they are, and these murders are vampire related, they’d probably cover that up too,” I said.
“You guys try really hard not to kill humans, and I’m grateful for that, but sometimes, some people have to die,” Bobby said. “And you never hear of people dying with all the blood drained from their body.”
“Oh my gosh.” I exhaled and leaned back. “They had to have covered up vampire deaths before. And if Jane and these other girls were killed by vampires, they would’ve covered them up too, except they were out in the open. People saw the body before they could fix it.”
“But whoever is doing this wants to get caught.” Bobby sounded excited, not about the death, but about solving a crime. He sat on his knees and faced me. “I don’t think it’s the normal serial killer like Hannibal Lecter doing it for attention. Maybe he’s trying to expose vampires.”
“You said ‘he’ too,” I pointed out.
“Sorry, he or she,” he corrected himself.
“But why would anybody want to expose vampires?” I asked.
“I don’t know.” He shook his head. “But why else would he leave the bodies for everyone to find?”
“I don’t know,” I sighed and looked back at the screen. “But this is based on a lot of conjecture. It’s more likely that it’s just some twisted human.”
“They found Jane a block from V. You think that’s coincidence?” He tilted his head skeptically.
“Yeah, and that happens to be within a few blocks of like 10 other clubs. Maybe it’s an angry bartender sick of getting stiffed on tips.”
“You really think that?” Bobby asked.
“I don’t know what to think.” I rested my head back on the couch and stared up on the ceiling.
“The patio is officially cleared off!” Jack announced and walked into the living room.
His jeans and hoodie were covered in packed snow, and some of it fell off and dripped onto the floor.
“Good job.” I wanted to smile up at him, but I didn’t feel like smiling. “You’re dripping snow all over.”
“Yeah, I’m gonna go change and hop in the shower.” Jack brushed chunks of melting snow from his hair. “I just thought I’d let you know.” He stood there for a minute, eyeing up Bobby and me. “Is something wrong? It seems pretty somber in here.”
“Nah, me and Bobby were just talking. Everything’s fine.” This time I did force a smile.
“Alright.” Jack looked hesitant, but he shrugged and decided to believe me. “I’ll be upstairs if you need me.”
I didn’t have any real reason not to tell him that Bobby and I were talking about Jane, but I didn’t really want him to know. It’d make him worry or stop me.
I didn’t have the energy for arguing about whether or not I should do what I’m doing, or feel what I’m feeling. I knew what I had to do and I wouldn’t let anyone stand in my way.
“We need somebody in the know,” Bobby said, picking up on where our conversation left off before Jack came in. “That’s how we’ll find out what really happened to Jane.”
“Well, yeah, duh,” I said. “That’d be nice if we-” I hadn’t even finished my sentence when it occurred to me. “We do know somebody.”
“Who?” Bobby asked.
Without telling him, I shut his laptop and got off the couch. Bobby followed me, and I think he figured it out when we turned down the hall and walked toward the den. We knew Ezra.
“You have got to stop moping,” I said. I pushed open the door and flicked on the lights without waiting for Ezra to respond.
Ezra stoo
d in front of the large windows that faced the frozen lake behind the house.
He had his back to us, and he didn’t turn around. The speakers on his computer played out the same classical music it had over the past few months.
“I don’t know how you can listen to this all the time,” I said, walking around the desk. I clicked off the computer, noting the name of the composer Joseph Haydn before closing Ezra’s iTunes. “I’d get sick of listening to the same piece over and over.”
“I saw him perform once.” Ezra said as he turned around to face me. “Back when I was still under Willem, my maker. We saw him in London towards the end of the 18th century, I believe. It was quite moving. I don’t think you understand what it was to see a concert like that, when music was so unavailable.”
“This isn’t gonna turn into ‘the internet is magic’ speech again, is it?” Bobby asked.
He’d gone over to Ezra’s bookshelf and picked up something that looked like an antique slinky.
“Of course not. I wouldn’t want to bore you,” Ezra said with exaggerated indifference and lowered his eyes, so I shot a glare at Bobby. He shrugged sheepishly in return and sat down on the sofa.
“You need to stop sitting in the dark, listening to music,” I said, leaning up against his desk.
“So you came in for a pep talk?” Ezra raised an eyebrow and sat down in the office chair next to me.
“Well… no, but that doesn’t mean you don’t need one,” I said.
“What can I do for you?” Ezra leaned back in the chair, ignoring my advice, much the same way he did every day prior.
“What do you know about the cops?” I asked.
His expression changed and he shifted his eyes between Bobby and me. For a change, Bobby kept his mouth shut and crossed his legs so he could play with his shoelace.
“I’m afraid you’re going to have be more specific,” Ezra said, resting his gaze back on me.
“How come you weren’t questioned in November when the lycan attacked?” I asked pointblank, and his dark eyes never left mine.
“I’ve lived here for a very long time, and it suits me well to have an understanding with the people in power,” Ezra answered evenly. “But if you’re looking to get out of a speeding ticket, I won’t get involved with that.”
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