When investigating a murder, no wizard left home without their wand and gun.
The pitter-patter of raindrops did little to ease Lucien’s troubled mind while waiting for Castor to arrive. Bone-chilling wind caressed his face when he stepped outside on the porch. An earthy aroma embraced him. Rumbles of thunder shook the ground in a fit of rage, as if desiring to wash them all away.
Bright headlights trekked up his street, and Castor’s black jeep pulled up to the curb. Lucien dashed across the lawn, splashing through puddles until he reached the warm interior of his friend’s car. Wet hair clung to his face as he shivered and held his hands up to the furnace. Droplets clung to his soggy clothes, dampening the leather seat he sat on.
“I brought snacks for the road trip.” Castor grinned, reaching around back for a bag full of chips and some candies. “I got some drinks back there too.”
“Uh, thanks, but I’m good right now.” Lucien fastened his seatbelt. “Where exactly are we going?”
“Nevermourn.”
Lucien’s eyes bulged as if they’d pop out of their sockets. “You can’t be serious. That place is dangerous! Especially at nighttime.”
“It ain’t all that bad.” Castor pulled back onto the road, sparing a glance in his rearview mirror.
Lucien groaned, sinking into the passenger seat, wishing the leather upholstery could swallow him whole. “I can’t believe you sometimes. Do you want us to die?”
“So dramatic.” Castor laughed. “I’ve been here plenty of times and never had anyone murder me. Yet.” He winked. “But seriously, we’ll be fine. If anything goes wrong, I’ll handle it.”
Despite his reassurances, Lucien had a terrible gut-feeling something would go horribly wrong.
The windshield wipers fought to clear the view ahead of them. Unfamiliar scenery bypassed Lucien in a blur as Castor navigated the backroads like he’d traveled them his whole life. Lucien hated driving. Never felt the need to learn how to and relied on Castor if he needed a ride.
A lone diner came into view, with a neon welcome sign that flashed vibrant colors in the pouring rain. Lucien didn’t recognize the place. Hell, he’d never even heard of it. Why would someone place a diner in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by nothing but acres of woodland and other nocturnal creatures? No other vehicles were parked in the derelict lot, but it was still open. How strange.
All the roads were identical to Lucien, who couldn’t fathom how Castor navigated under such harsh weather. He would’ve driven them off the road and crashed into a tree somewhere. The monsters roaming the alpine forest would’ve found their dying bodies and made a meal out of them.
Out of the corner of his eye, figures emerged from the trees. Children, clad in ragged clothes with skin so opaque and porcelain, he swore they were ghosts. Lucien’s heart stopped as one of them waved when they drove by.
“You okay over there?” Castor asked, sparing him a glance.
“Were those real?” Lucien’s voice came out in a croaked whisper, barely audible over the pounding rain.
“The kids? Yeah, why?” Castor frowned. “Hell’s bells, I forgot. You’ve never been out of Briarwood, have you?”
“I don’t understand. Why were the kids out in the rain by themselves? Shouldn’t we help them?”
“They’re spirits. Died before we were even born,” Castor replied.
“What? Are you serious?” Lucien gazed back, but the kids were gone. “Where did they go?”
“Haven’t you heard the stories? About the witch who burned a bunch of dhampir kids to death?” Castor questioned.
“No? Is that true?” Lucien’s stomach twisted in knots.
“Yeah, it happened quite a long time ago. These woods belong to them. After they died, they sought their revenge on the witch by killing her,” Castor explained. “They trapped her in her cottage and made it look like an accident in the kitchen. People tried to help her escape, but the ghost kids bolted the doors and windows. They made sure she felt the same pain they did.”
Lucien shivered. “That’s awful, those kids didn’t deserve that.”
“I only heard about the story recently too, so don’t worry. Sebastian told me,” Castor said. “The guy we’re going to meet with. It seems like the Supernatural Council keeps us in the dark about a lot of things, doesn’t it?”
“Yeah, it does.” Lucien’s mouth felt dry and stuffed with cotton.
It wasn’t long before they reached Nevermourn after they made it out of the woods. Fog shrouded the entire town. Lucien barely noticed the welcome sign when they crossed the town’s border. No cars could be spotted for miles downtown and the pot-hole riddled roads hadn’t been paved in ages. Each rough jolt thrashed Lucien in his seat and he couldn’t imagine how brutal it must’ve been on the jeep’s tires.
Nevermourn resembled a ghost town. The perfect place for vampires to hide.
Ferocious raindrops pelted Lucien’s head as he took cover underneath the clinic’s awning. Heart pounding in his chest, Lucien inhaled a deep breath and stuffed his fears deep inside. Both hands comfortably fit in his coat’s pockets, fingers brushing over the pistol and his wand. Just in case things took a turn for the worst.
“So, how did you meet this vampire?” Lucien asked. “You’ve never mentioned him before.”
Castor shrugged. “It’s a long story, but don’t worry. He won’t bite.”
Lucien hesitated. Every fiber in his being screamed at him to get the hell out of there. Gods be with him. Lucien sent a silent prayer and followed his friend to the entrance.
“Sebastian helps starving vampires,” Castor explained. “Sometimes, they’re unable to feed properly due to injuries or mental hang-ups about taking blood from humans. Other times, it’s to help with their addictions.”
“Addictions? Like, with drugs?”
“Sort of, but with blood. Binge-drinkers are what Sebastian calls them,” Castor replied. “They’ve gone on feeding frenzies that left people critically wounded or worse. Of course, the Sanguine Council has laws put in place when there’s an intentional killing, but they don’t condemn a vampire’s natural instincts to drink if intense cravings influenced them.”
“Jeez, never knew you were so well-versed in vampire politics,” Lucien said.
“You learn a thing or two when you hang around vampires over here.”
The moment they entered the lobby, a whiff of antiseptic and metallic flooded his senses. They caught the attention of a petite nurse, whose eyes glossed over with what Lucien could only describe as lust. Her lingering gaze remained on Castor’s neck as he asked her where he could find Sebastian.
Lucien adjusted the collar of his coat, ensuring it concealed his neck. Those bloodthirsty vampires probably saw them as nothing but fresh meat. Goosebumps checkered Lucien’s arms as he followed Castor toward the elevator. At least there weren’t many vampires lurking around the clinic that night.
“Just stay close to my side,” Castor said.
Lucien nodded, momentary relief flooding through him when they sealed themselves up in the elevator. “Why do you think this vampire knows about my sister’s killer?”
“Don’t report this back to your folks or the council, alright?” The elevator door opened, and they stepped out into the new hallway. “Charlotte used to donate her blood here. It’s possible she heard about the recent killings. And Sebastian believes a lot of the deaths here lately have been performed by dark wizards. Death curses.”
Lucien gasped. “Holy shit. Death curses work on them?”
“Of course. They’re not indestructible,” Castor replied, frowning. “Despite what people back home tell you about vampires, they’re not all horrible creatures out to drain your blood.”
Soon enough, they found Sebastian in the break room sipping out of a styrofoam cup, brimming with blood. Lucien cringed upon first glance, but if Castor trusted him, then he must be reliable.
“Castor.” Sebastian smiled, daubing at his reddened lips with a napkin. “What a pleasant surprise. What brings you here? And who’s your friend?”
“This is Lucien,” Castor said. “We wanted to talk to you about the recent murders here in Nevermourn.”
Sebastian raised an eyebrow, lips quirked in a grin as he eyed Lucien. “Ah, I’ve heard much about you. Why are you so curious about the recent murders here?”
“I take it you haven’t heard about Charlotte’s death?” Castor asked.
Sebastian froze. “No, what happened?”
“Someone killed her with a death curse.”
Sebastian frowned. “A wizard killed her? I warned her not to meddle with those murders, but I never expected her own kind to kill her. Not with how she praised your traditions and families.”
“You knew my sister then?” Lucien asked.
“Mmh. She came here to donate as often as she could,” Sebastian replied. “Not many wizards frequent these areas. You know how the rumors are, I’m sure.”
Guilt weighed heavily in his heart when he thought back on his initial impressions of Sebastian. Their families were stuck in their ways. Lucien recalled horror tales kids used to share about vampire serial killers slaughtering innocent people. Even his mom used to tuck him in each night, whispering not to let the vampires bite in the night.
“By donating, you mean blood?” Lucian questioned.
Sebastian nodded. “Yes, she usually came alone.”
“I also donate,” Castor added. “One night, I actually bumped into Charlotte over here. She begged me not to tell anyone, not even you. It was like our little secret.”
“Mom and Dad wouldn’t have wanted her doing that,” Lucien admitted. “They’re not as open-minded about such things and wouldn’t have wanted her out here by herself at night. Do you think someone else found out she was donating blood here?”
Sebastian shrugged. “I’m not sure. Possibly. I’ve not encountered any other wizards lately, aside from you two and Charlotte.”
“I’d like to talk more about the murders, if you don’t mind,” Castor said, sparing a glance at Lucien before tossing him his keys. “You can wait in the car while I do this.”
Lucien frowned. “What? I want to know more about them too. If someone’s going around cursing people and vampires, then it needs to be reported.”
Sebastian raised a brow. “Ah, you’re on the Supernatural Council, aren’t you? You can report these if you’d like, but don’t get your hopes up. They don’t care about any murdered vampires.”
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