Drown Under Earth - Shadows of the Night 3

Chapter 7

Hi!

It's too late and I've been editing too long and too much... but then again, this is what writing's all about, I guess. You just forget everything around you, and it doesn't really matter how late and how long.

I hope I can make you forget everything around you while you're reading this one. I've been trying very hard - let me know how close I came. And thank you all for reading!

Lara

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Chapter 7

The TF3 quarters' kitchen was never empty. There was always someone there to complain and rant on about a case that needed ranting. It was in times like these that I'd make a grab for my coffee and take my leave.

Not so this day. The clock-hands ticked away slowly, like raindrops dripping on a hollow metal object. I was all alone. For a change I would have liked company. If only to chase away the mayhem of thoughts and speculations. They were angry, confused thoughts, swirling through my mind like a disturbed hornet's nest. They'd come and go, leaving a line of static crackling in my ears, a white noise in my brain that allowed no other sounds in, just to come back and wreak more havoc.

I let out a sigh of frustration, shoved away all that lay at the core of the chaos in my head – the memories I had of my last meeting with New York's highest ranking undead, among others.

Stop thinking about him. Focus.

Forty-eight hours and we were still clueless. I let out a long, stuttering breath and shut my eyes, trying to do the impossible: sum up everything I had learned so far about the murder case and find some sort of clue about why Magenta Warrens was killed to begin with.

There was no sign of a violent in-break. The doors had all been still intact. No fingerprints or other evidence common to human crime scenes. Nothing missing.

I was told that Magenta Warrens used to maintain a security shield. It made the whole building as safe as it could be. Forceful entry – magical or physical – was practically impossible. That in turn meant that our killer probably sauntered in through the front door.

The corpse was found by a certain Pasquerita Rodriguez, who identified herself as the victim's part-time housemaid to the police before ascending into a frenzied state of shock. No valuable information from that corner of the investigation either.

We were stuck with the bland clue that a vampire was the murderer. If Sarah was right, and only a starved or newly turned vampire could have drunk that much blood, how was that even possible? I couldn't imagine the witch opening her door and shields to give free entrance to a vampire dying of thirst. No. From what we knew so far, we could assume that Warrens chose to let her murderer into her home.

I narrowed my eyes. The vampire had help from someone, probably someone Warrens knew personally. That threw the suspect door wide open. Witch, shape shifter, human; who knew, maybe even vampire – anyone could have been the vampire fledgling's accomplice.

I took another sip from my coffee. Gah! I stared at the liquid. Lukewarm. Coffee was made to be savored in its hot form. Cold coffee should only be used in emergencies. That was a rule.

"Anna!"

Conrad appeared in the middle of the doorway. One glance at his face was enough. Something happened.

"They found another corpse."

I sprang up and grabbed my leather jacket.

"Where?"