Page 71 of Flock This

“Has anyone else been here?” I asked.

“No, not after they collected William’s body. They did that immediately, since vampire bodies decompose so quickly. There wasn’t an investigation, because those in power already had their killer—you.”

“I figured others would have cleared the space out for the next council seat.”

“Vampires have a mourning period.” He laughed at his own phrasing. “Don’t get me wrong—they don’t actually mourn. I told you that thralls are seen as the last remnants of the vampire, the last bits of their spirit. Until the last known thrall dies, they believe it is bad luck to enter the property or touch anything owned by the vampire. It’s seen as the vampire still dying until the last thrall is gone. So until I die, no one would dare enter or touch his belongings.” Roger peered around, and a softness rested in his eyes.

“You haven’t come back here either?”

“No. I guess I was a coward. You know, they didn’t even tell me about his death. I felt it, of course, the crushing loss when the other side of the bond disappeared, so I knew, but no one ever came to tell me. That wasn’t important to them. What I know came from whispers, from what I picked up from others, but they never saw fit to even inform me.”

Roger walked into the kitchen, the confidence in his steps proving that this had been his home before. He opened a cabinet and smiled before pulling out a box of chocolate cupcakes—the type filled with every bad ingredient that I couldn’t come close to pronouncing. “William hated that I ate these, said they were low-brow foods for low-born people. Even still, whenever I ran out, he’d order me a new box and store it here for me.” He took two from the box and held one out to me.

I took it, because no matter how bad it might have been for me, I was pretty sure I had bigger things to fear than partially hydrogenated vegetable oil at the moment. The sugar was overpowering, but there was something familiar about the taste, something that felt a bit like home. It gave me a sense of nostalgia that I couldn’t help but enjoy given how crazy my life had become.

“So tell me what you saw,” Roger said. “I’ll give you any details I can think of that fill in the story.”

I nodded, hating the idea of going back to that mess, to the moment of horror where I’d realized just how screwed I was. No matter how much I hated it, however, I couldn’t avoid it.

“I opened the door with my mark, then called out at the door. I didn’t see anyone or hear anything, so I thought maybe he was already sleeping. I went farther into the living room and called out again, saying who I was.” I peered around the room, retracing my steps, noting the spread-out city through the window. “I thought about what I could get away with stealing, but figured it wasn’t worth it.”

Roger snorted, then held his hand out. “Now’s your chance. Feel free to take anything you want.”

“Maybe later. I haven’t had time to do my Christmas shopping, after all.” The small joke wasn’t great, but it helped me to relax a little as I moved toward the bedroom. “I headed to his room, because it was labeled as a VIP delivery that had to get there that day. When I walked through the door, I saw William on the bed.”

“What did he look like?”

“He was on his back on the bed. There was a hole in his chest, but no weapon.” As I said that, the bed in question came into view. The blankets hadn’t been changed, so a huge black stain rested there. There was no scent of rot, due to the way vampires decomposed, so only a thicker version of that same sweetness hung in the air.

When Roger said nothing back, I went on with my story. “I didn’t see anyone else, not in the hallway, not in the room. I knew this would end up on my shoulders, so I thought my best bet was to leave the delivery item and get the fuck outta Dodge. They’d know from the lobby that I’d been here, but I thought I could pretend he was still alive. Leaving the delivery and running wasn’t a great plan but it was all I had. Except, when I grabbed the item for delivery, it was the bloody stake.”

I stared down at my empty hand and could almost feel the wetness from that stake, the blood still warm. It made my stomach roll, because no matter how fucked up I was, I’d never cared for violence or death.

Roger didn’t seem to notice my discomfort, however. I thanked my lucky stars for that, since the last thing he needed to worry about was my mental health. This was far harder on him, after all.

“So you were framed, then. When you came before, I wasn’t sure if it was simply bad luck.”

“I do have really bad luck, but yeah, that’s too far.”

“Framing someone is important,” Roger explained. “If they just wanted him dead, that’s the easy thing to do, all things considered. He left often enough—they could have killed him many places. Why frame you?”

I considered the fact that I was, in general, unliked. “I hate to have to explain this, but I’m not what you’d call popular.”

“Not liking someone is one thing—this required a lot of planning and forethought. People don’t use a plan this dangerous just because they find someone annoying.”

“I said I wasn’t popular—not that I was annoying.”

“It wasn’t hard to read between the lines.” He laughed softly, then turned away from the bed as though he didn’t want to see that anymore. “How long before the delivery are couriers assigned?”

“They’re assigned almost immediately.” I paused as I considered one detail. “However, I wasn’t supposed to deliver this. It was supposed to go to another courier but they called out. It was reassigned to me that morning.”

“So the person who planned this wouldn’t have even known the courier was changed or that it would be you? That means it wasn’t directed at you at all. What about the other courier?”

“It was supposed to be Lilly. She’s one of the human couriers but she was sick.”

“You’re sure she was really sick?”

“Well, she was sick in the way she always says she’s sick of working. She calls out at least once or twice a month for mental health days.” I knew what he was getting at, so I headed off the idea. “She’s a vapid idiot. I don’t think she’s had any enemies other than the people she tricked into selling candles or leggings or whatever pyramid scheme she starts up and she’s too stupid for anyone to trust her enough to be in on it. Which means if they wanted to frame us, it wasn’t us as individuals but our job?”

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