Page 161 of Death is Familiar

“Not quite. I’m telling you it can get worse.” Jerome, with all the seriousness of a handsome soap-opera doctor said, “If you still don’t believe me, do yourself a favor. Ask Todd how he lost his tongue.”

It was the mob, while he was doing undercover work. I wasn’t sure how much Jerome knew given the secrecy involved in FBI, so I kept it vague, “He told me what happened.”

“You know about the mob?” A flicker of surprise then pity flashed across Jerome’s face. “Yes, but do you know who set them in his direction?”

†

After that Jerome had the audacity to get up and leave. Leaving me with a strange sinking feeling that Jack was responsible for Todd’s brush with death and his missing tongue. But if that were the case, why would Todd remain in Jack’s company?

Unless he didn’t know.

The likelihood of that was so infinitesimally small, I concluded Jerome had been trying to get in my head and left it at that.

What a shit-disturber. And to think I thought we’d been bonding.

If Todd could stand with Jack after everything he went through there must have been a reason. So, with my first test passed, I vowed to put the vamp case back on track. Even if Jack wasn’t pleased with the idea.

For the next few days, Jack tried anything and everything to keep me away from the vamps, and focus on taking care of myself. To enjoy the view. Read a good book. Peruse all the art the Hessinger castle had to offer, which I admit had been quite awe-inspiring for a grand total of one hour.

Problem was I wasn’t meant to do nothing. For me to feel like myself, to be myself, I had to be helpful.

A part of me burned at how selfish I’d been. I alone was responsible for derailing the vamp case by focusing on my own problems. After all, I prodded Mads about the safety deposit box, which took me and the agents away from the investigation, I acted rash and stormed out of FBI headquarters which resulted in me getting kidnapped, and two whole teams dropped what they were doing to be dedicated to my search and rescue.

Therefore, it was up to me to get things back on track. Otherwise, I couldn’t live with myself.

Unsurprisingly, I wasn’t able to get much on the vamps from Jack. He wasn’t shutting me out, per se, but redirected my focus onto what he thought I wanted to be doing, rather than what I needed. Which is precisely how I ended up holed up on the carpeted floor of a random closet digging through the updates on Todd’s phone.

If Jack wasn’t attached to his cellphone like a damn lifeline, I would have stolen his. But as he was, I knew if I wanted more than thirty minutes with a device to be able to play catch up, I needed to get my information somewhere else.

Ignoring all of the search updates and threads pertaining to anything other than the vamps, I brought myself up to speed on Todd’s phone.

Not much progress had been made, given the distraction my disappearance provided, but it appeared Fawzy, Zhou, Kaatz, and Thruppy were still planning on attending the fang ceremony without us—without knowing who was responsible for the familiars’ deaths. Just a loose plan to draw the offenders out and catch them in the act.

I clucked my tongue in disproval. In the odd moment I hadn’t been planning my escape from the Seal, I’d mulled over the vamp case as a form of penance and escape. Admittedly, the moments were short lived, or otherwise punctuated by Three’s singing, so I didn’t come to many conclusions or ‘aha’ moments. But I did manage to form questions I was not in a position to answer, or at the very least investigate, from my cell.

What inciting incident fed into anti-vamper’s belief in not only the vamps, but their “cure”? Had there been other epinephrine-related attacks? Or an instance where it saved a familiar’s life? And why the muggings? Was there another motive for these attacks? Did they escalate to epinephrine-induced murder? If so, how? Why?

Grabbing the stack of paper I’d stolen from one of the Hessinger offices, I started taking notes. Since I didn’t have my notebook, I organized everything into piles. The knowns, the unknowns, and the yet to be proven, including all of the facts and updates that occurred while I was out of commission. Vamp hunters, epinephrine, muggings, false confessions, deaths after fang ceremonies.

Squeezing my eyes shut, I worked to visualize how the different pieces connected. I was fairly confident the vamp hunters were trying to prevent familiars from being turned into vampires and they thought epinephrine would keep their victims’ heart beating. When that failed, they arranged their bodies in the shape of a cross in cemeteries to prevent the transformation from taking place. But where did the muggings come into play?

All of the mugging victims had hickeys or bite marks on their necks, but they were given at gatherings, not fang ceremonies. And from what I could gather from the notes and files, the muggings only seemed to take place in Huntington.

It had to mean something. There wasn’t a pattern to the muggings by chance, it had to happen for a reason. Everyone was focused on the attacks experienced by the victims and the money stolen, but what if there was an ulterior motive? Yes, the victims’ wallets were stolen, but what if money hadn’t been the objective? What if it was all a ruse to get information only obtained from someone’s wallet? Like⁠—

Like their home address.

If the mugging victim’s wallets held their ID, like a driver’s license, the attackers would know where the victims lived. And… I paused, scribbling down my notes, what? Why would the attackers want that?

If the attackers were vamp hunters, which I expected they were, and all the victims had hickeys on their necks…

Oh my god.

What if the attackers took the victims’ IDs to get their home addresses to put them under surveillance? So, they could monitor them for any signs they were turning into vampires and intervene where needed?

I was onto something. But some of the pieces still didn’t add up. Not yet. For example, no one had been killed after a gathering. The murders—so far—had only occurred after fang ceremonies. And I needed to figure out why.

Vamp hunters clearly weren’t rational, which meant logic alone wasn’t going to connect the dots. I needed to turn to vampire lore.