The Secrets of Lore Seymour

48. Words Like Poison

Sirens blare outside the brothel. A group of dhampir stand huddled together by a set of ambulances. A dhampir boy, who can't be much older than eighteen, shivers among the group. Blood stains his sunken cheeks, eyes wide in terror. A girl next to him puts her arm around his shoulder.

My stomach twists into a knot. Then Jaryl and I step inside, stunned at what we find. Calling this a bloodbath would be the understatement of the century. Corpses fill the bar and lay broken in the brothel rooms hidden below. Blood stains the floor, walls, and even the ceiling. Guns are clasped in the hands of the dead. Knives stick out of skulls and backs. A few sex workers died in the crossfire. Those who survived have been taken to the hospital for their injuries or stand outside, sputtering what happened to the officers.

"What the hell happened here?" Jaryl whispers under his breath, gaze scanning the crime scene that grows curiouser by the second. I inspect a few of what I believe to be the assailants, at least those who started the assault. They're closer to the front door and are riddled with bullet holes. They also share the same tattoo.

"Come look at this." I gesture for Jaryl, who leans over the bodies.

"The Black Dog gang," Jaryl snarls and scratches aimlessly at his neck. "We've seen their lot around a bit, but it didn't appear they had any animosity towards this place. If anything, we've caught a few of their members eagerly attending."

"What if those eager members didn't get what they wanted and came back for a refund the brothel refused to give?" I suggest, making Jaryl tug at his face like he thinks that'll spark an idea. He looks as confused as I feel, although that confusion begins to arouse suspicion too.

What are the chances that all these rat bastards that Lore wanted dead turn up dead? In one go!

An officer approaches us, shaking her head as she steps around the dead.

"What did the survivors have to say?" Jaryl asks.

"Nothing much we can go off of," she replies while flipping through her notes. "All of them were downstairs in their rooms either with a client or waiting for one. They heard a ruckus upstairs, the start of a fight, but that wasn't unusual. Then came the gunfire. There's another exit downstairs, which most of the workers ran for. Those who didn't get out in time, well..." She gestures at the mess around us.

"None of them saw anyone peculiar or heard what started the fight?"

She shakes her head wearing an apologetic frown. Jaryl's about to leave in order to speak to the survivors when I happen upon a clue.

"Look here!" I shout, managing to grab their attention. Jaryl and the other officer join me in analyzing one of the gang members.

"See how abnormally bloodshot his eyes are?" I hover my finger over his eye that has yet to fully dull, then point at the veins. "And the veins here are too dark. That could be a sign that divinity has been used against them."

"There may have been a mage in here during the assault," Jaryl says.

"Maybe, but since this happened so recently, there may be a bit of the cast left." I hold my hand above his head. Gold light trickles from my fingertips like spiderwebs reaching around his eye and into his ears. His veins glow beneath his skin, then the webs retreat, dragging a darkness with them that dissipates almost instantly.

"What was that?" the officer asks, sounding disgusted.

"Proof that a mage messed with this guy's mind and likely the others," I answer.

"Meaning someone forced gang members to shoot up a brothel?" Jaryl inquires.

"Possibly, or a mage could have given them the power to do so. Regardless, I doubt a mage who can cast this is among the dead."