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Auris nodded as he put the wardrobe back in order and moved the robes back into place so they hid the hollow back. “I’m sure they will investigate. They might not see it for a few days. That should leave them wondering.”

He picked up the bones and took my hand. Auris’s hurry was not the panicked type, but there was surety in him, and I was in no mood to resist. When we came out of the church, the presence of the caretaker made me jump slightly, and Auris hissed.

“I’m sorry, my sweet. I made him come here. We are still alone. Well, almost.”

He said the last word in a tone of voice that was colder than the November night around us. It scared me, not for myself, but for whoever or whatever had upset him. I didn’t see anything in the faintly illuminated graveyard, and I didn’t want to wave my flashlight in case that attracted any more attention.

Auris pushed the caretaker’s keys back into the man’s gloved fingers. “Lock up, then leave and forget all about us.”

The man nodded. I wondered whether Auris always said his commands out loud when he was very angry.

I opened my mouth, but before I could speak, Auris handed me the parcel we had saved from the crypt. “No one will touch you, Ethan. He’s human. He has either a knife or a hammer, but don’t let that scare you. Come.”

“None of what you just said makes me want to meet that person.” I tightened my grip on both the flashlight in my hand and the bag of bones.

“Trust me. Like you did back at the Seafront Bar. Come.”

I did trust my vampire—and his judgment—so I followed him into the night. It seemed to have gotten colder. We had driven for a little less than two hours, so it was probably still before midnight, but it felt so much later.

I switched my flashlight off, realizing that the illumination in the churchyard was enough for me to find my way and that the wavering cone of light only distracted me. Ahead of us, someone walked along the path, dressed in a very bulky coat, but with skin-tight jeans underneath so that their legs had a twiglike quality to them.

They stopped when we were close enough to spin a skipping rope, and I saw a slender, youthful face under a mop of light blond hair. Auris said something harsh sounding in Czech.

“I’m sorry,” the guy said. He had a smooth British accent, and he sounded young. “I’m not from here, but you, you’re one. Vampire. I know those black eyes. Like Jonathan. I think they’re keeping him down there in the ossuary, or elsewhere. Did you…did you see him? I saw you go in.” His face scrunched up. “I miss him so much.”

The parcel in my hand about tripled its weight.

11

“What might your name be?” Auris asked, his voice charmingly sweet.

“Oh, I’m Charlie. Sorry. I’m a bit antisocial, I guess. Language barrier, Covid, it all sucks, you know? Please, I just want to know if you saw Jonathan down there?”

“Empty your pockets, Charlie.”

“My pockets?”

The way the guy said it made me realize that something wasn’t right there. He didn’t sound suspicious or scared, if anything he sounded excited.

“Do it now.” Auris took a step toward him.

Charlie lifted his hands placatingly. He wasn’t wearing any gloves. “Okay, okay.” He rummaged around and dropped something heavy on the path, a hammer. Simple elegance for a churchyard brawl.

Auris barely even looked at the hammer. “Charlie, do you live here?”

“Um, you know, that’s a difficult question. Right now, I have an Airbnb. When I don’t have that, I live in the car. Lockdown was really shit. I mean, really, really shit.”

I let his words sink in. “Wait. Are you telling us you spent lockdown in your car?”

“Yeah. Where else? It was good though. I only have so much in my account, and Jonathan’s cash ran out a while ago. They’ve been keeping him for that long, you know.”

Auris sighed. “Ethan, will you put your mask on, please? Charlie, perhaps you can show us to your place so we can talk in private and without the danger of frostbite.”

I had to fumble some to get my mask over my mouth and nose, and Charlie took us on a quick walk to his place, at times skipping like a kid, happy to have found an especially shiny rock. His Airbnb was less than ten minutes away from the ossuary, and that included the walk through the graveyard surrounding it.

The place Charlie had rented was a single bedroom on the third floor. There was a bathroom, some cheap, functional furniture, and bare walls. The only thing that had any character was a low cabinet in the short hallway that gave off strong Eastern European design vibes. The place was perfectly clean. The only personal item I spotted was a plastic bag on the floor that, from the looks of it, contained worn clothing.

Charlie shrugged out of his overly big coat. He wasn’t precisely gaunt, but very nearly so, and in the weak overhead light, the smile he beamed at us as he dropped on the twin bed seemed off. It was too cheerful for such a grayed-out face.