“That’s crazy. Demons? Hell? Just no. I can’t even.” She flung open the refrigerator door and reached for her favorite strawberry mango kombucha. She hesitated and contemplated a shot of tequila but decided on the healthier option.
“Something was in your friend’s apartment in Miami. And now that something or maybe even a different something has been here. But as I look around, your place seems undisturbed. Or at least on first glance. You tell me. Is anything amiss?” Viktor reached for a scented candle and sniffed it. He smiled. “Nice. Peppermint.”
Waverly hurriedly unscrewed the bottle top and took a large gulp. The bubbles rushed down her throat and she coughed. “I can sage. I know I have it around here somewhere.” She opened a drawer and began rummaging through it. “Where the heck did I put it?”
“Sage?”
“This is SoCal. Everyone sages. I sage pretty much every week. Do a little yoga. I figured it couldn’t hurt. Although it didn’t keep a demon out of my house, did it? Ugh. I can’t find it.”
“You’re not safe here. You shouldn’t stay here,” he suggested.
“I can’t leave my house. The new exhibit is supposed to open to the public next week.” Waverly took another drink and released a long audible breath. Her limbs felt like lead as the reality set in that she was no longer safe, that a demon had been in her home.
“You can and you will. Look around. Do you see anything out of place? We need a clue as to why demons are snooping around here. You wouldn’t happen to have security cameras?”
“I’ve been looking at getting one, but I don’t have one yet. It’s pretty safe here though. Look, maybe whatever was here realized that I am not the one it’s looking for. I don’t know anything about that woo-woo stuff.”
“You have sage,” he countered, a chuckle following. “Maybe you’re a witch. A witch who won’t date a vampire.”
“Ha ha. Funny guy. I’m a perfectly whatever…I’m human. I’m certainly not a witch. And sage doesn’t count as being woo-woo. Everyone in California buys sage. It, uh, it feels good to release whatever negative vibes I’m feeling.”
“I hate to tell you, but sage isn’t going to help you with this demon problem.”
Waverly opened a storage cabinet and stared inside, searching. “I liked the way it looked. It was in this pretty pearly shell. I think it might be in the bathroom. I put it on a shelf.” Waverly turned around, expecting to make a beeline to the bathroom but instead found a hard chest blocking her path. A deep breath filled her lungs as she attempted to calm down.
“It’s going to be all right, Waverly. I promise I will be at your side. I’ll keep you safe. Sage, however, won’t remove this demon from your life. It’s following you. Which means it needs you for some reason. From the looks of your friend’s apartment, I’m thinking it’s looking for something.”
“Why would a demon want me? So my friend got mixed up with some bad people. I have nothing to do with any of that. I was just her friend. Seriously. I swear I’m just this normal person. I’m boring. I work all the time.”
“I hardly find you boring.”
Waverly smiled at him, her cheeks flushing. “Thank you, but I assure you I am. Why is this happening? This makes no sense.”
“One thing my years on earth have taught me is that reasons are not always ours to know. Shall we check the bedroom?” Viktor shot her a cheeky smile.
“Why do you need to go in my bedroom?” Waverly asked, attempting to tamp down the dirty thoughts spinning through her head. Stop. What if he can read your mind. Think about fruit. Oranges. Strawberries. Peaches. Bananas. Hmm…Bananas. Whipped cream with my banana. Stop.
Viktor smiled at her and raised his eyebrows. “Well?”
“Don’t read my thoughts,” Waverly blurted out as she turned and strode toward her bedroom. “It’s this way.”
“I would never dream of it.”
Waverly peered into her bedroom; her nerves steeled as if a giant, green, horned creature was waiting for her. A breath of relief escaped her lips as she realized her room was exactly how she left it. A pile of shoes heaped in front of her closet. The only speck of color on her virgin white comforter was the crimson cashmere chemise she’d decided not to wear.
“It’s fine. My bedroom looks okay.” Waverly took a single step inside, still unsure if something diabolical was hiding in her closet.
“It was here.” Viktor entered the room and sniffed the air. “Everything’s very neat. But the blood—”
“Blood?” Waverly croaked. “What blood?”
“Perhaps you should go in the kitchen,” Viktor told her, his demeanor serious.
“No. You just said there was blood. Whose blood?” Panic seized Waverly as the vampire approached her bed. As his face tensed in concentration, his eyes locked on hers.
“More like a what. Sorry pet, but I’m afraid I need to rearrange your furniture.”
“My furniture? What are you talking about?” Waverly’s eyes widened as Viktor shoved her bed aside, its wheels screeching across the hardwood floor until a pool of blood came into view. “Oh my God. What the hell is that?”
“You need to go in the hallway,” Viktor insisted.
“No. Whatever this is, it affects me. This is my bedroom and…” The air sucked from her lungs as she caught sight of the decapitated goat’s head, a pentagram smeared in its blood. The color drained from her face. “What is that?”
“It’s a goat. Sacrificial, generally.”
“Why is this happening to me?” She reached for the doorjamb, steadying her wobbly knees.
“Let’s get your things and get out of here.”
“Is it a message? Why leave that there for me?” She shook her head. “Who did this?”
Viktor reached for his cell phone and snapped a picture. “Something about this isn’t right.”
“Ya think? There’s blood all over the floor. And that poor animal…where’s the rest of it? Is this,” she hesitated to speak the word, “Satanic?”
“I’m not sure. Something about this looks like humans did it.” He glanced to the floor. “The goat head? It’s been dead for over a week. The cut is clean. My guess is it came from a butcher.”
“What?”
“I can’t be certain, but this mess. This symbol looks familiar. I don’t believe this is totally correct. I took a picture because I have a friend who might know.”
“But you said a demon was here.”
“There was a demon. But this might be the work of a very ordinary human. This blood here.” He pointed to the ground. “This isn’t from a goat.”
“How do you know that? Tell me you didn’t taste it.” She bit her lip, nausea rising in her throat.
“Taste it? Ew, no. I’m a vampire not a heathen.”
“How do you know it’s not from the goat?” she pressed.
“At risk of pointing out the obvious. I’m a vampire.”
“Ha. Ha.”
“Vampire 101. Lesson number one. I have the ability to differentiate blood types by taste but more importantly by smell.”