Many have puzzled
themselves about the origin of evil. I am
content to observe that there is evil, and that there is a way to escape from it, and with this I begin
and end.
—John Newton
3
Hospitals aren’t my favorite places. I
hate the smell, that cloying combination of antiseptic and blood.
The sounds of moaning patients, squeaking shoes, and chirping
monitors. Certainly, the sight of fresh blood isn’t high on my list
of favorite things either.
So, of course, because hospitals make
me uneasy, I had to be dragged to the very bowels of one on my
first day on the job.
Down in the basement, where patients
never tread.
Who would ever think that something
surrounded by sand, silt, and clay could be so white? The floors,
the walls, and the ceiling of the basement were stark white. The
only color breaking the blinding glare were the little signs
pointing the way through the maze of identical hallways to such
thrilling locations as records. Accounting. And, of course, the
morgue. We, however, had no need for the signs. We had a personal
escort, a security guard who said very little as he led us to our
destination.
I’m guessing I looked a little pale by
the time we reached the morgue. Chief Peyton took one look at me
and said, “If you’d rather stay outside, I
understand.”
Bless her.
“However,” she continued, “I brought
you along for a reason, and I’d like you to at least try to come
in.”
Urgh.
I’d had one unfortunate episode with a
recently deceased person today. Did I really need another one so
soon? The answer, of course, was no. But there was this little
problem. A job with the FBI, particularly the BAU, was going to
involve regular exposure to dead people. Sooner or later, I was
going to have to get over the wooziness.
Sooner was definitely better than
later.
It was decided; I would go
in.
Pulling my lips back in what I hoped
was a passing attempt at a smile, I said, “Of course, I’ll come
in.”
“Excellent.”
In we went.
The pathologist who had conducted the
autopsy was waiting for us, with the body laid out on the metal
table, lights fully illuminated. Thankfully, a sheet covered the
body from head to toe.
“Thank you for meeting with us.” Chief
Peyton offered the doctor a hand.
The doctor gave it a shake. “Not a
problem. Bob Davis.” Dr. Davis looked at me.
“Sloan Skye.” Standing as far back as
possible, I gave a little wave. “The room’s kind of small. I think
I’d better stay out of the way.”
Dr. Davis nodded and turned his
attention back to my boss. I surmised he was used to people
reacting the way I had. “I have a Caucasian female, thirty-one
years old. This was an interesting case, unique. I don’t know
exactly what you’re looking for, or how it might be tied to your
case in Baltimore, but I’m more than happy to share my
findings.”
Chief Peyton moved a little closer to
the table. “Thank you. I’m anxious to see what you
discovered.”
The doctor uncovered the victim’s head,
neck, and chest. Even from a distance, the rash covering the
woman’s upper body was still visible. “This patient died
of—”
“Typhoid?” I asked.
“Yes, this patient consumed food or
water tainted with the bacterium Salmonella
enterica typhi and later died from complications,” Dr. Davis
explained. “Intestinal perforation and encephalitis.”
“But what about the puncture wounds on
the neck you told me about?” Chief Peyton leaned over the
table.
The doctor pointed to the side of the
patient’s neck farthest from Chief Peyton. “They’re located here,
just under the right ear. They are odd. Deep and fairly large. Bite
wounds, not clean punctures. The skin is torn. But it doesn’t
appear they played a role in the patient’s death. Whatever made
them missed the major blood vessels.”
“Just like our victim in Baltimore.”
Feeling okay at the moment, I moved a little closer, to get a look
at the wound.
“Had the patient recently traveled out
of the country?” Chief Peyton asked.
Dr. Davis picked up a clipboard and
skimmed the chart. “The family said she hasn’t.”
Peyton inspected the rash closer. “And
that didn’t strike you as odd?”
“Roughly four hundred Americans
contract typhoid fever every year,” I commented, reciting a
statistic I’d read a few years ago.
The doctor gave me a raised-brow look.
“That’s correct. So, no, it didn’t. But what did strike me as odd
is why this generally healthy patient, with no underlying health
conditions, died from a disease with a relatively low fatality
rate. I also question why she wouldn’t have seen a doctor before it
got to this stage. Treatment is generally successful. It isn’t
invasive or expensive.”
“Did you mention your concerns to her
family?” Chief Peyton asked.
Dr. Davis set down the clipboard. “No.
I felt it was better to let things be. I know it’s difficult
accepting loss. Why make it worse by giving the family a reason to
wonder if the death might have been prevented?”
Whatever the reason for the woman not
seeking medical care, the way I saw it, her death was obviously
caused by a pathogen. Not a vampire.
Case closed.
“One more question,” Chief Peyton said.
“What about blood volume? Was it low?”
Dr. Davis took a look at the chart
again. “On the low side of average, no lower than if she’d donated
blood the day before.”
“Okay. I guess that’s it for now. Thank
you, Doctor.”
He pulled the cover over the body and
shook Chief Peyton’s hand again. Within a handful of minutes—thank
God—we were on our way back to the team’s temporary home away from
home, a conference room in Baltimore’s Central District
PD.
We’d just pulled up in front of the
building when Chief Peyton’s phone rang, pulling me out of the book
she’d handed me when we left the hospital, The
Element Encyclopedia of Magical Creatures, by John and
Caitlin Matthews. Fascinating reading, but her phone conversation
was more interesting. From her end, I figured something major had
happened. I hoped it didn’t mean we’d be making another trip to a
morgue tonight.
“There’s been another death,” she told
me as she maneuvered the car into a parking spot. My hollow stomach
slid to my toes. “The victim has the same wounds on the neck.
Another woman. She collapsed in front of a fabric store in
Arlington, Virginia.”
“A third death?” This couldn’t be a
coincidence ... or could it? Three people dying suddenly, and all
displaying what looked like bite marks on the same area of the
neck. The odds were incredibly remote, considering the population
in the city of Baltimore alone.
The chief didn’t cut off the engine.
She shifted in her seat, facing me. “You’re doing a good job, Skye.
You were thrown in the deep end of the pool, but I knew you’d swim
okay. You’re intelligent and, more important, you have good
instincts.” She poked an index finger at my forehead. “Trust
yourself.”
As long as I could remember, I’d been
told I was smart, but somehow this was different. This meant more.
“Thanks, Chief. I will.” My stomach rumbled loudly. Embarrassed, I
jerked my arms around my waist.
“I want you to get JT up to speed on
what we’ve learned.” Chief Peyton poked at the number pad on her
cell phone. “I’m going to call him now and have him take you to get
something to eat.”
“I am a little hungry.” I checked my
watch. Eight hours had flown by since I’d walked into the FBI
Academy this morning. I hadn’t eaten lunch yet, and it was
dinnertime. It was no wonder my eyelids felt like they were
weighted down with sandbags.
“I need to get going.” Chief Peyton
lifted her phone to her ear and waved me out. “JT leased a car for
the day so the team could split up and get more accomplished. After
dinner, he’ll drive you back to Quantico, Sloan.”
“Great, thanks.”
As I scrambled out of the car, she
reminded me, “Don’t forget your bag.”
“Oh, yeah. Thanks.” A smidge unsteady
on my feet—low blood sugar—I opened the back door and dragged my
laptop bag off the backseat. Once I’d set it on the ground, I
pulled the telescoping handle out and shut the door. And before
Chief Peyton had maneuvered the car out of the parking spot, I
headed toward the police department’s entry, my bag’s handle in one
hand and Chief’s book in the other.
When I stepped inside, I found JT
standing at the front desk, chatting with the officer on desk duty.
I gave him a wilted smile as I dragged my weary self toward
him.
He hurried across the lobby. “You look
tired.”
“I’m okay. Hungry.”
“Me too.” Proving himself a gentleman,
he took my laptop case and together we headed outside. “The car’s
around the corner.” He pointed at a blue Chrysler. “Would you
rather eat before heading back to Quantico, or wait?”
“If I wait, I may pass
out.”
“Not a problem. The boys said the café
down the street has good food. Would you rather drive or walk? It’s
only a block away.”
“We can walk. That’s
fine.”
JT reached for my laptop case. “I can
throw this in the car—”
“If you don’t mind, I’d rather not.” I
smiled, hoping he wouldn’t think I’m crazy for insisting on
dragging it around. “Call me paranoid, but I don’t like to keep
valuables in a car.”
“Actually, that’s very smart. Can I
carry it for you?”
“Only if you insist.”
“I insist.” JT fell into step beside
me, dragging my laptop case behind him.
“Thank you.”
We headed into the cute little
restaurant. The hostess escorted us to a table tucked in a cozy
corner. We ordered sandwiches and drinks. As she scampered off to
fill our orders, I rubbed my neck. It was stiff, sore. Thanks to
JT, a few other bits of my anatomy were sort of achy too, but in a
good way.
“What a weird and fascinating day,” I
said. “Outside of making an ass out of myself at my first crime
scene, I think it went pretty well.”
“You didn’t make an ass out of
yourself.”
Despite JT’s sincere expression, I
wasn’t buying that. “Well, I don’t think I made a good first
impression with the detective,” I said, hiding my embarrassment
under a chuckle. “Or the rest of the PBAU. Or the Baltimore PD...
.”
“Hey, every one of them, including
Peyton, probably hurled at their first murder scene
too.”
“Probably.” Wondering why I’d even
brought that up, I redirected the conversation into safer
territory, tried to lighten the mood. “Judging from today, I think
this is definitely going to be a summer I’ll never forget. Probably
more exciting, and disturbing, than the year I worked for a
traveling carnival. Let me tell you, I saw some freaky stuff that
summer.”
“You were a carny?” JT laughed. I liked
his laugh. And I liked the way his eyes twinkled when he was
laughing. “Hopefully, you didn’t see any dead bodies
...”
“... with bite marks on their necks?” I
finished for him. “No, no dead bodies. Or vampires. Thank God. It
wasn’t a bad job. Except for the food. And the scary
clowns.”
“Speaking of shitty summer jobs, one
year I was a mascot for a restaurant. I had to wear this ugly dog
outfit and stand outside for hours, waving at cars as they drove
by. I think I scared more people away than anything. And yes,
before you ask, it’s hotter than hell in there.” JT gave me a funny
look, the kind a guy might give a girl on a first
date.
I swallowed hard.
As our eyes met, I reminded myself this
man was off-limits. Period. It sucked, since I was already
beginning to see that JT was not only very good-looking, but also
intelligent, easy to talk to, and he seemed to get me. There weren’t a lot of JTs in the
world.
“So,” we said in unison. We shared a
laugh as the waitress brought our Cokes. Then we apologized, once
again, in unison. Finally JT motioned with a wave of his hand for
me to speak, and he took a healthy gulp of his cola.
“I guess we should get to work.” I
pulled my notebook from my back pocket and flipped to the last
page. I normally wouldn’t have needed to skim my notes; I always
remember everything I write down. But my gray matter was a little
mushy tonight. “The lady at the hospital died from typhoid fever.
The bite played no role in her death.” I pointed at him. “Your
turn. What did you get?”
“The Baltimore victim’s COD,
complications from malaria.”
“Seriously, malaria? Is the ME
sure?”
JT nodded. “We received the initial
report just before you rolled in with the chief. It was caught by
RDT—rapid diagnostic test. It’ll be confirmed with a blood smear
later.”
The waitress brought our food and
hurried away.
I read over my notes as I ate a few
bites of my sandwich. “So we have two victims, dead from two
different infectious diseases. And so far, the only thing they
share in common is a pair of puncture wounds on their necks.” That
sure didn’t sound like a vampire on a rampage to me. But that
didn’t mean it wasn’t weird or suspicious either. “Could this be a
bizarre coincidence? Statistically, it seems so improbable, but
...” But what?
“How many people have you seen today
with a pair of puncture wounds on their necks?” JT took another
bite of his sandwich. He had a little smear of mustard on his lip.
I kept staring at it.
“Two. And they were both
dead.”
He pointed a fry at me. “Doesn’t sound
like a coincidence to me.”
“Okay, but what are we dealing with
then?”
“I don’t know. Hopefully, by tomorrow
morning, we’ll have more information.” JT dabbed his face with a
napkin. No more smear. But I still kept staring at his
mouth.
“That doesn’t leave us with much to do
tonight,” I said, a little sorry the day was coming to an
end.
JT pushed his plate away. There wasn’t
much left on it. “I’m going to head into the office for a while, do
some more reading. And I need to take a look at some maps. But I’ll
probably call it a night before ten.”
“Sounds like a plan. Tomorrow’s going
to be another long day.” Sensing that JT was ready to go, I waved
at the waitress, who happened to be at a nearby table, and asked
her for a box. “Ready to hit the road?”
“Yeah.” After I packed what was left of
my food into a foam box, JT gave me another one of those looks, the
kind both of us had to know he shouldn’t be giving me. “It’s good
having you on the team, Skye.”
“It’s good being here.”
I tried not to think too much about
that I-like-you look. Not as we drove home in silence, and I
pretended to read The Element Encyclopedia of
Magical Creatures. Or when I ate the rest of my lunch/dinner
at my new desk, my Netbook’s screen glaring at my tired eyes. Or
when I leaned back in my chair, closed my eyes, and slowly sank
into a shallow slumber.
It was in the room with
her again. She always knew it was there. The air turned cold and
dead, like everything had been sucked out of it. She squeezed her
closed eyes harder and silently prayed for it to leave her alone
this time.
Why her? What did it
want?
A frigid gust drifted
over her, making the hairs on her nape stand on end. Goose bumps
prickled the skin of her arms, back, and shoulders. The feeling of
death was growing stronger. The scent of rotting flesh filled her
nostrils and her eyes teared.
Please leave me alone.
Please.
Something hard, sharp,
scraped down her arm and she shivered.
Please go away. Not again. Oh, God, not
again.
Beethoven’s Fifth was playing.
Somewhere close by.
My phone.
I lurched upright. My eyelids snapped
open.
I shook off the memory of that creepy
dream. Clearly, this vampire stuff was getting to me.
Hands trembling, heart pounding, and
eyes squinting against the light, I rocked forward, shoved my hand
in my purse, and dug for my cell phone. After I’d rescued it from
the deepest corner, I checked the number and hit the button,
answering, “Hey.”
“You scared me to death!” Katie yelled
into my ear. “Why didn’t you call me? Where are you?”
I glanced at the clock on the wall. It
was just after eleven, but it felt like it was three in the
morning. “It’s been a long, long day. You have no
idea.”
“Well, I hate to break it to you, but
it’s about to get longer.” I couldn’t miss the laughter in Katie’s
voice. “Your mother was disassembling small appliances
again.”
My stomach twisted into a knot. “What
did she do now?”