“This is the scene I was called to before I was distracted by a little fuss in a dark street,” Lewark says. “Are you sure you want to see this?”

“I am not a child,” I say, killing all hesitation and following in his steps. The smell does remind me of my own tragic death, and flashes of those red eyes cut through my mind as I tread closer to the terrible scene.

Soon, I will be responsible for similar cruelties, my new nature all but demands it.

“Let’s see here,” Reeve Lewark kneels to look over the body, and with great care, he rolls her onto her back. The sight is quite simply terrible, there’s not a patch of skin left that’s not been cut or flayed, to the point that it’s difficult to acknowledge this corpse was once human.

“Is this something that might be familiar?” He asks me, turning to look at my expression.

“It certainly inspires an atmosphere of terror,” I say, taking in the feelings of the family and the crowd. Mixed with the terror there’s more than a hint of rage warring against the emotions that would fuel my magics, but not even nearly enough to counter the fear.

With tentative steps, I enter the murder house, passing through the frame that even still slowly drips with sweet nectar. In the shadows and darkness, I can see more clearly the stains that cover the walls and floor. Too little time has passed for the terror and the pain to settle into the walls, but it’s clear that it’s thick enough to dye this home with the acts of this day.

Yet, it’s not so awful as my own home, even if the acts themselves were of a competitive nature. There’s a lacking… something. Looking at the floor I can see countless boot prints of all types and sizes, pressing the small cuts of flayed skin into the wood grain beneath.

The killer would most assuredly have been covered in the blood of the victim. The nature of the killing assures me of that, and yet, there’s no indication that any of the blood was consumed. Far too much has been left to waste. Even having just fed, I feel a deep thirst standing here, and it would have only been more intense during the incident.

This wasn’t the act of a vampire, not unless they were taking efforts to disguise their actions as that of a murderer more mundane, though perhaps equally twisted.

Returning to the front of the house, I look through the gathered crowd. There are expressions of horror, of disgust, and hatred, all of which builds into an atmosphere that strengthens my vampiric magics. Yet, one of them is different.

He’s quiet, watching with an indifferent expression from further along the road. His coat and jacket are clearly richer than the rest of those gathered here, and the others walking by instinctively give him distance.

Unlike the rest who wear their sweat stains with poverty-induced pride, he is covered in the thick scents of soap and perfume, but beneath it is something quite different. Even from here, I can taste the blood on him. It hangs heavy, subdued, but not hidden by the scents he uses to try and cover it.

“Reeve Lewark,” I say, approaching the investigator without letting the killer escape from my sight. “I believe I can help with your investigation.”

“Oh? Is it what we suspected?” He asks, seeming disappointed when I shake my head. I suppose he truly has taken on the hunt for us monsters of the night.

“Then what can you help with?”

“The killer is still here,” I say.

Lewark freezes for a heartbeat but shows no other hint of having heard what I said. I was subtle enough not to share the knowledge with the crowd, or the killer himself, as I suppose that the reeve is going to want to arrest the man and see him hanged.

“How do you know?” He asks.

“The scent of blood,” I say. “He cleaned up and put on perfume, but I think you can understand that blood is the one thing that I won’t mistake the scent of. It is quite specifically her blood that has stained him.”

He nods slowly, looking down at the ruined corpse. Unlike me, it’s doubtful that she’ll rise again, and I’d only pity her if she had such ill fortune.

“I’ll find another reason, one of the family members would be more than willing to make a false claim of witness against him,” Reeve Lewark says. “Can you point him out without frightening him off?”

“The cleanly dressed young fellow down the road a little ways. He’s making quite some effort to show his indifference, but he’s clearly been watching for a while now,” I say, continuing on to describe the man.

“I see him,” Lewark says. “I’ll get the guards to circle around and keep him from running.”

The reeve certainly knows his game, and he speaks with the guards and gets them moving as he wishes without once letting the killer suspect that we’re onto him. It’s exciting to watch the pieces fall into place, and the prey slowly falling into the trap simply by standing still.

When Lewark goes up to speak with the man, I walk alongside him. This mightn’t officially be considered my business, but this is still my land, and I’m not particularly fond of it being treated as a hunting ground by some malevolent young maniac.

“Good evening, might I ask what sort of business has brought you to these parts of the city?” Lewark asks, approaching the killer while leaning heavily on his cane.

“How’s that any of your business?” The young man seems more like a boy as he bursts out with petulant words, his panicked voice breaks as he looks around only to see that all escapes have been blocked off by the guard.

“Well, we have a witness that saw you leaving the scene of the crime covered in blood,” Lewark says. “Are you going to come in easy, or…?”

“What, but I swear…” he bites his tongue before he can admit that there was no one there to see him. A fool with serious issues, I do hope there’s no delay in sending him to the gallows.

“Then if there’s nothing you have to say,” Lewark waves the guards closer. “We can have this cleared up by morning.”

“You can’t do this,” the boy says, backing up against the wall. “I’m not some peasant! You have no right to arrest me! I’m the son of a viscount!”

“Are you truly?” Lewark asks, suddenly cautious of the boy, even the guards back up a little. “Then how about we escort you back home? Where’s your estate, young lord?”

“This way, this way!” He says, rushing us down the road. “Argh, dad is going to be so pissed with me.”

The return to this young lord’s home is a rather tense affair, and while I’m sure there are some suspicions of deception, the home is a true one, and the lord, at least in official records is truly a lord. A lesser rank perhaps, but certainly above the peasantry.

I keep quiet through the whole incident, even as the Viscount threatens Reeve Lewark if he should ever bring this up again. The man clearly thinks that wearing the skin of a noble is reason enough to act like one. I have serious doubts about his bloodline.

“Has something sickened the noble blood of our kingdom? I can only suppose that all the women have taken to sleeping with servants when their noble husbands are away, as incredible a claim as it is. Though, if the noble men are all as insane as this, then perhaps there’s some sense to the thought,” I say, as we walk away, unable to quiet my deep vexation. “My uncle, and now this child, and his family. They’re all so completely contemptible. I carry more noble blood in my dry veins than any of them, even now that most of it is filling the stomach of that red-eyed monster.”

“I don’t think it’s the blood that’s responsible if you don’t mind my saying it, young miss,” Reeve Lewark says.

“That aside, why aren’t we doing something about this murderer? I know that it’s more an issue with his noble class, but it’s not as if the royal laws do not apply to us,” I say, glaring into the darkness. This little pest hunted in my home, did such awful things to a woman, and just left her on the streets without even a cloth to cover her shame.

“Are you so naïve?” He asks, pausing to look down at me. “Can you not name a single time that your father broke those same laws?”

“I mean, he retained his slaves, but that’s an act of political manoeuvring, as he explained it.”

“And a breach of those same royal laws,” Lewark says. “Yet the reeves that are allowed in your estates are the pets of the nobles. You’ll never see them suffer justice unless they’ve damaged their position in the noble courts.”

“So, we’re doing nothing about this?” I ask, looking back toward the manor house that the young murderer returned to.

“I’m not going to commit suicide chasing justice in a noble estate,” Lewark says.

“Then why did you see fit to commit that same suicidal act, in coming to my home?” I ask. “Was it the vampires? Is there something about them that lends to suicidal urges?”

“I think you should give this up,” Lewark says, leaning down to stand face to face with me, his voice quiet but booming. “Go find some way to survive as what you are and leave this old man to his fate.”

I pause at the intensity of his reply.  I don’t know why this man is chasing after the monsters in the night, but it certainly seems like he’s ready to die in his quest.

“So, the red-eyed vampire. My sire. What do you know of him?” I ask Lewark after catching up to him.

“Miss Greystone, please return home,” He says, his cane clacking against the cobblestone.

I turn about one more time to assure myself that I won’t forget the family or the location of their home. I’m not yet in a condition for a proper hunt, but I have a good goal to work towards now. The boy and his family make for fine prey for a Christina Greystone who is marginally stronger than I.

It seems that I have gained another goal to work toward, but I do not intend to let this weigh on my mind for long. It will be dealt with sooner rather than later.