Page 52 of Her Midnight Stalker

“You’re one to talk,” I say. “You’re lucky you’re even alive at this point.”

“That’s not what I mean, jackass,” he says. “I mean that with you on the case, our enemy has nothing but leverage, assuming they even have her. Your remaining on this case is a conflict of interest.”

I stand up taller than Ren, looking down at him.

“You have no seniority over me, save for time, Ren,” I say. “You can’t keep me from this case even if you kick me off of it anyway. You have no idea of the kind of bond you’re dealing with.”

“Don’t I?” Ren asks. “You think I’ve never loved and lost before? You think I’m saying these things just to be an ass?”

“Guys,” Cameron comes up behind us, urging us forward. “We should probably keep moving.”

“I mean, yeah,” I reply, ignoring Cameron. “Why else would you be telling me what I’m capable of, constantly undermining my attempts to-”

“I joined PEACE because I lost control,” Ren tells me. “I thought I was invincible too. Then before I knew it, it was a full moon… I got cocky, and Ellie’s blood was in my throat.”

Cameron jiggles the doorknob to the backdoor, ignoring our deep conversation. I tremble at this revelation as I look Ren in his eyes, which are both sincere and destitute.

“It’s open,” he says simply, pushing the door and proceeding inward.

The kitchen sink where I pinned Quinn and tasted her blood for the first time is overflowing, bubbles populating wildly as water circulates downward, endlessly. The drain clogged at some point, so as we step inside, a puddle of water stands where we step, damaging the wooden floor beneath us.

Nobody has been here for some time. My mind circulates with worst case scenarios, as I imagine everything terrible that could have happened to Quinn, the horrors playing in my mind as if on a film projector.

I buckle to the floor, on top of the pooling water.

“We’ve got to keep moving,” Ren says, with what my ears perceive as sympathy.

“I need a minute,” I say, watching the water continue to flow before me.

Cameron moves over to the faucet, shutting it off. He looks at me on the ground, then shrugs to Ren.

“Quinn doesn’t have a minute,” Ren says. “I know the kinds of games you vampires like to play with your food, but if this is genuine, you’ve got to keep moving. She’s not gone yet.”

“How do you know that?” I ask him.

“Call it instinct,” he says. “Or you can call it smell. You vampires reek, and there’s at least ten recent scent trails leading out from there.”

He points toward the heavy metal door in the distance.

I pull myself up off the ground, feeling where the wood has given and feeling half-afraid I might crumble through it.

We move to the heavy metal door and pull it open.

I suppose I should be shocked to witness what I find in there - two bodies, completely drained of their fluids, left haphazardly inside - an elderly man and a young girl, around 20. But I’m numb to it at this point.

I am just relieved that neither of the bodies are Quinn’s.

I smell a human scent, fast approaching. The backdoor opens in the distance.

“What the hell happened in here?” A familiar woman’s voice asks.

I turn around, resolving to act quickly, but I’m not quick enough.

“What the hell?”

Rory faces me, looking into the frozen backroom where the corpses have been laid.

“What the fuck did you do?”

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