“Look at that!” Roundtree pointed. “The nincompoops can’t even spell.”
“That a message aimed at you was written in cat’s blood is a little more important than the spelling, don’t you think?” Grimshaw asked.
“Blood?” Roundtree blanched. “Aimed at me?” More blanching. “Cat?”
Grimshaw pointed to what looked like a discarded calico scarf—except the scarf had what was left of a head partially tucked into the open belly.
“Matilda!” Roundtree wailed. “That’s my cat!”
Grimshaw let out a slow breath and resisted the urge to tell the mayor to be grateful it was his cat and not one of his children. Then again, maybe the mayor liked his cat more than his children.
“I think you should do everything you can to deliver the information Ilya Sanguinati asked for about our new residents, Mayor Roundtree,” he said quietly. “You really should do that because I don’t think the next message will be as restrained.”
“It’s those damn vampires.” Roundtree’s venom was sincere, but he had sense enough to keep his voice down.
“No, it’s not. They all know how to spell.” And they wouldn’t have wasted the blood. “Call whoever you need to call to come in and get me that information. Today, Mayor.”
Grimshaw unlocked the police station’s door. He started the coffee and warmed the meat-loaf sandwich in the wave-cooker. He didn’t have much appetite after seeing the cat, but he ate. By the time he poured his first cup of coffee, he had the computer on and had checked the latest e-mails—a wave of reports from other police stations in the Northeast Region, mostly in the area between Hubbney and Lake Silence. In other words, the Finger Lakes.
The station phone rang and rang as he forwarded all the new e-mails to his personal account before Viktor Sanguinati arrived to help. If Viktor arrived.
Then his mobile phone buzzed.
“Grimshaw.”
“Wayne.” Julian, sounding tired. “Come to The Jumble as soon as you can. I’ve already called Ilya. He’s on his way.” A hesitation. “You’ll also need to stop at the Mill Creek Cabins. One of the professors is missing.”
CHAPTER 58
Ilya
Earthday, Novembros 4
In his smoke form, Ilya traveled close to the surface of Lake Silence, aware of the shadows that swam beneath him. The lake’s Elders. There were ways to harm—or kill—one of the Sanguinati. He couldn’t say if these Elders knew how it was done. The residents of Silence Lodge had taken care to work with, and accommodate, the more dangerous terra indigene who lived around the lake. He did know that these Elders, along with the Elemental known as the Lady of the Lake, had saved Victoria last summer, had brought her to him so that he could summon the human doctor and look after her while her wounds mended.
He didn’t think they followed him for any malicious intent. Like him, these Elders took an active interest in The Jumble and its caretaker. Unlike him and the rest of the Sanguinati, they could offer protection only when Victoria was in or on the lake.
He aimed for the sandy beach that was part of The Jumble’s property, intending to remain in smoke form until he reached the lake cabins. He’d check on Viktor and Karol—and Victoria’s guests—before going up to the house to meet Julian Farrow and examine the . . . remains.
One of the shadows in the water veered away, moving swiftly toward The Jumble’s dock. Then more of them veered away, and one said, <Follow us, bloodhunter.>
<I am expected—>
A delicate dorsal fin broke the surface of the lake, almost close enough to brush against smoke. A tail slapped the water in warning. <Follow us.>
Ilya followed.
When he neared the dock, voices sang out from the nearby trees.
“Ilya,” the first voice sang.
“Illllyaaa,” the second voice sang.
“This way, bloodhunter,” the third sang. “This way.”
The Elders in the lake turned away but circled nearby. Ilya reached the dock, reluctant to shift into a human—and much more tangible—form.
Then he heard a flutter, a weak caw.
Moving to the far side of the dock, he saw a Crow hanging upside down, secured to the dock by string tied around its feet.
“Freshly found,” a fourth voice sang.
That explained why the Five hadn’t helped the Crow. It was one explanation, anyway. He chose not to consider any others.
Another flutter and a fading word. <Help.>
<Jozi?>
Ilya flowed to the top of the dock, then shifted to human form as he knelt and reached for the Crow. Time enough to find out how she’d ended up there.
Panicked flapping of wings that set her swinging. <No!>
<Jozi, it’s Ilya.>
<No!>
“Bloodhunter?” No singsong teasing in the fifth voice. Just deadly suspicion.
Ilya didn’t turn around, didn’t look. He lifted Jozi by the legs with one hand and snapped the string with the other, leaving a couple of inches dangling from the dock. The moment Jozi stopped flapping and fluttering, he wrapped both hands around her.
“She’s confused,” he said.
He didn’t hear them retreat to the shadows among the trees, but he felt their absence. Hurrying off the dock, he headed for The Jumble’s main house.
“Is she confused?” the fifth voice asked. “Is she really?”
He hoped so. For the sake of every Sanguinati living around Lake Silence, he hoped so.
CHAPTER 59
Grimshaw
Earthday, Novembros 4
Grimshaw called Osgood, then sat in his cruiser to wait for the rookie to show up for work before he headed out to the Mill Creek Cabins to find out about the missing professor.
The cat bothered him. It bothered him enough that he pulled out his wallet, stared at the paper with the phone number, then made another call.
“Yes?”
He wondered if Stavros Sanguinati was watching him from some dark corner. “Would an Elder kill a cat? Would any form of terra indigene?”
“Was the cat threatening one of its young?” Stavros asked.
“Doubtful. It was a small domestic cat.”
“Was the Elder hungry?”
“A cat that size wouldn’t even make an appetizer. But the cat’s blood was used to write a message on the steps of the government building.”