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Bloodsucker
Blurred Lines

Blurred Lines

“You’ve completely lost your senses, Mr. Harker,” Van said. He dug through the mortuary drawers, pulling out tools, before dumping them all onto a pile on the embalming table in the center of the room. He picked up a device that had a thick needle connected to some tubing. “This is what I use to prep bodies. It’s much bigger than the wounds on the Bloodsucker’s victims, not to mention that there’s no reason in making any extra holes.”

“It was just a question, Van. I’m trying to be thorough—I wasn’t accusing you of anything.”

“You don’t have to accuse me outright. I know you’re trying to do the right thing, and I know you have to consider everyone in town as a suspect, but why would I have tried so desperately to get someone out here if I was the Bloodsucker?”

Callum sighed and leaned against the wall. He hoped there were no bodies behind the metal doors that lined it.

“What about your other tools? You’re a doctor—you must have smaller needles. Had anything gone missing recently?”

“I am a doctor, and my professional opinion is that the wounds are bite marks, not puncture wounds from needles. If you look close enough, you can see the impression of the Bloodsucker’s other teeth in their skin. Perhaps Bram Shelley is just trying to get you off his back.”

“For fuck’s sake.” Callum ran his fingers through his messy blond hair and let out a sigh of frustration. “I’m constantly being led back and forth. This is fucking ridiculous. I’ve been here for weeks and I’m still not closer to an answer than I was the day Quinn handed me that fucking case file. All I’ve done is bounce back and forth between here and the Shelley Estate. There’s gotta be something missing.”

“What’s missing is the number of signs you’re refusing to see that point to Bram Shelley,” Van said, “because you think he’s pretty.”

Before Callum could argue, there was an urgent knocking at the door. They shared a concerned glance before Van rushed to answer it.

An old woman was standing there, appearing a bit nervous. She was wringing her hands, and kept her gaze slightly lowered. Looking closer, Callum could see that her eyes had a cloudy, glazed-over look to them. Was she blind?

“Mrs. Westenra, what are you doing here?” Van questioned.

“My predictions are getting worse,” she said, and Callum raised a brow. “The cards are predicting a great change, and I fear it won’t be for the better.”

“This is Irena Westenra,” Van told Callum, taking her arm gently. “She’s a psychic, and works in town, telling fortunes.”

Callum rolled his eyes. Mediums and vampires… What was next, werewolves?

“Callum Harker,” he said, keeping his thoughts to himself, and he shook her thin, delicate hand. “I’m here from the Capital City, investigating the—”

“Oh, my!” The old woman tightened her grip on Callum’s hand and turned it over. She trailed one of her long fingernails across his palm, and it sent a shiver up his arm. “You’re treading in perilous waters, Mr. Harker. Your blood must be quite powerful if the Bloodsuckers have taken notice of you.”

“Bloodsuckers?” Callum’s heart started to race, and he swallowed hard. “There’s more than one?”

“You don’t think the one in Umbra Harbor is the only one that exists, do you?” she asked with a chuckle. “I’m surprised you’ve never been approached by any others, considering how influential your aura radiates.”

“With all due respect to your craft, Mrs. Westenra,” Callum said, gently removing his hand from her grasp, “vampires aren’t real. I’m here to track not a murderer, not hunt myths up the eastern seaboard.”

“What makes you think the two are mutually exclusive?”

“Let’s go talk in the house,” Van suggested, ushering Irena out of the mortuary. “This is a grim place to be speaking of vampires and omens.”

“I’ll be heading back to the inn,” Callum said. He buttoned up his jacket and put his hat on, then nodded to Irena. “It was lovely meeting you, Mrs. Westenra. Please, feel free to reach out to me at the library if you have any information about the Bloodsucker.”

As Callum followed them outside, a bit of movement around the side of the building caught his eye. When he turned, there was nothing there, but Callum could have sworn he’d see a person standing there.

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Van and Irena didn’t seem to notice, chatting between themselves as they headed across the way to the old cottage. Callum took a deep breath and unbuttoned his jacket. He rested his hand on his gun in its holster as he headed around to the other side of Van’s property.

He didn’t see anyone around, but he was so certain. Was he being followed? Was it the Bloodsucker?

In the back, looming in the fog, was Van’s greenhouse. It was set back a way’s behind the cottage, and the door was open, creaking softly as it swayed in the ocean breeze. Callum went in and closed it softly behind him.

Inside the greenhouse, it was warm and quiet. There was all manner of plants that Callum had never seen before, and they were starting to overrun the entire greenhouse. It made it difficult for Callum to look around, and his heart was racing. He knew he wasn’t alone in there.

A small noise in the back caught his attention, and Callum drew his weapon, a bit of sweat running down the side of his face. His breath came out in small, quick huffs. He couldn’t risk being caught off-guard while he was alone in a place where only Van might find him sooner or later.

“Who’s in here?” he called out, slowly inching closer to the back. The windows were all frosted, giving the entire greenhouse the look of being completely engulfed in dense fog, which didn’t help settle Callum’s panicky pulse. He had to push large leaves and stalks out of his way to get through. “Show yourself!”

As he shoved a large plant out of his way, he found himself facing down a young woman, who put her hands up defensively.

She was probably a few years younger than Callum. She had long, dark hair that was pinned back out of her face, and she had bright blue eyes that were fixed on his pistol with a fearful expression.

Callum sighed and lowered his weapon, his heart still pounding wildly. His panic was replaced with anger. He shoved his weapon back into its holster and out of sight under his jacket.

“Who the hell are you?” he asked. “Why are you skulking around back here? You should have answered—I could have shot you.”

“Forgive me,” she said quietly. She kept her eyes down, her cheeks a bit red. “I didn’t mean to upset you. My name is Penelope. I came here with my grandmother.”

“Mrs. Westenra? Do you tell fortunes as well?”

“I don’t.” She shook her head. “She’s tried to teach me, but I never got the hang of it. I just take care of her.”

“Well, anyway…” Callum sighed again. “What are you doing back here? There’s a serial killer on the loose—you shouldn’t be wandering around alone without a chaperone.”

“You’re usually alone,” she noted. “I always see you around town, trying to get people to talk to you about the Bloodsucker.”

“I have a weapon, Miss Penelope. I assume you have no means of protection on you, aside from a strange talisman or charm that Van or Mrs. Westenra has given you?”

“I’m sorry,” she said. She clutched an amulet that was hanging around her neck, and Callum was sure he’d been right by what he’d said. “I just didn’t know how to speak to you alone. If I approached you in town, people might get the wrong idea or think that I’m being improper.”

“Do you know something about the Bloodsucker?” Callum asked, and she shook her head. Her face was a bit red as she reached out and straightened the front of his jacket. He gave her a curious look. Was she making a move on him?

“You’re quite handsome,” she noted. “I know it’s a bit… out of order… for a woman to approach a man, but—”

“Please, let me stop you right there, Miss Penelope,” Callum said quietly. He took her hands off his jacket and held them gently. “I am… incredibly flattered, and you are a lovely young woman, but—”

“You have someone else.” She looked a bit sad, pulling her hands away as she kept her gaze lowered. “Forgive me.”

“I don’t,” he stated, and she gave him a puzzled look, furrowing her brow. “It’s not that I have someone. I’m just… not interested. And not for whatever reason you may be thinking right now.”

A wave of realization washed over Penelope’s face, and she covered her mouth with her hand.

“Oh, my! I am so, so sorry. I should have realized… You have been spending quite a bit of time with the Count. And the way you look at each other… Forgive me.”

Callum’s face was the one that turned red them, his heart racing. She thought he was seeing Bram?

“The Count has nothing to do with it,” he said quickly. The thought of Bram’s face, brandishing that roguish grin made his face and ears feel hot, but he quickly shook the image away. “I’m not entertaining or courting anyone currently—I’m here to catch a killer, not a lover.”

“Oh… I didn’t mean to speak out of place.”

“Forget it,” Callum said with a sigh, then held his arm out to her. “Shall I escort you back to your grandmother?”

When they returned to the cottage, Van and Irena were sitting across from each other in front of the fireplace. They were quiet, and Van had a grim look of concern on his face.

“What’s going on?” Callum asked, and Van leaned back in his chair while he rubbed his chin, letting out a long breath.

“Something big is about to happen,” Irena said. She was nervously shuffling a deck of cards in her thin hands. “I’m afraid it will be centered around you, Mr. Harker.”

Callum rolled his eyes and shook his head. More predictions? Between Van’s raving about vampires and the old woman’s premonitions about the future, he didn’t know who was worse.

“I am here for evidence and facts, Mrs. Wenstenra,” he stated. “Myths and fortunes are not going to assist me to apprehend a serial killer. If I start listening to the two of you, I might as well just toss out my badge and become a vigilante, because there is no justice in baseless accusations with no evidence. I can’t toe the line or morality based on a hunch or a feeling from a fortuneteller.”

“And what will you do, Mr. Harker,” Van questioned, “if that line becomes blurred when you come face-to-face with the real Bloodsucker. How will you handle it if the killed truly is something unnatural? What if it’s someone you’ve come to care about? Will you let your feelings cloud your judgement, or will you still be able to draw that firm line in the sand?”