“I don’t get it.” Callum lit a cigarette and leaned back in his seat. “Why would he just leave like that? Why not just kill me while he had me alone?”

“Well…” Van threw a couple of fresh logs into his fireplace, then sat in the armchair across from him. “For one, you aren’t even convinced that it really happened—you said you might have been dreaming. If you weren’t, and the Bloodsucker really was at your door, he can’t touch you unless you let him in.”

“What do you mean?”

“Vampires need permission to enter someone else’s home,” he explained, and Callum rolled his eyes. “The proof is in the victims, as well, Mr. Harker. The people killed in their homes showed no signs of a break-in or any sort of struggle, meaning they allowed him to enter. In all my years hunting them, I haven’t been able to figure it out. They have this strange, charismatic hold on their victims, perhaps some kind of mental manipulation to keep them quiet.”

“The inn isn’t my home, though. So, how would that apply?”

“Your guess is as good as mine—I don’t know all the mechanics.” Van shrugged. “Maybe because you’re renting the room, the rules apply. Technically, it’s your room as long as you’re renting it out.”

“He tried to attack me,” Callum recalled, “but he stopped at the balcony threshold. He told me to leave town and to stay away from Bram Shelley’s estate.”

“That’s… odd,” Van said, rubbing his chin with a thoughtful look in his eyes. “That moves him to the top of the list of suspects. Why would the Bloodsucker want you to stay away from him unless he had something to do with the attacks?”

Callum was quiet. He understood Van’s logic, but he didn’t really think Bram was the Bloodsucker. The man was a well-known recluse, and Shelley Manor was miles from town.

Then again, why would anyone want him to stay away from the estate if he was innocent? It wasn’t like he knew anything about the Count. Was he just taken in by the man’s charm? Was there any way to prove whether he had anything to do with the murders?

Callum let out a long breath before knocking on Bram’s door. He’d spent over a week trying to avoid it, but no one would talk to him since Abraham had been killed. It was like the town was even more isolated than when he’d first arrived. Perhaps they thought the Bloodsucker would target them if they spoke aloud about it.

“You’re back.” Mary’s brow furrowed at the sight of him. “Is there something else we can do for you, Mr. Harker?”

“I need to know where the Count has been for the last fortnight,” he said, and Mary sighed loudly.

“Master Bram never leaves the estate. He’s been here.”

“Are you certain?”

“I’m his caregiver,” she stated in a very matter-of-fact tone, looking terribly unimpressed with Callum’s line of questioning. “Of course I’m certain.”

“There was another attack last week… a young man, murdered in his room. The night before it happened, someone came to my room, demanded that I stay away from this estate. Now, if Mr. Shelley—”

“He’s got nothing to do with it!”

“How can you be so certain? Most of the evidence I’ve collected, along with what I’ve been told by Doctor Helsing and the townsfolk, I can only assume—”

“Master Bram has been bedridden for over a week!” Mary shook her head, the anger clear in her voice and on her face. “I have no idea what is going on it that town, but I will not stand here and allow you to slander Bram’s good name.”

Callum pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a loud sigh of frustration. He was tired of going back and forth.

“Miss Mary… I can only go where the evidence leads me. If the Count is bedridden, is he at least well enough to speak for a moment? I want him to be innocent just as much as you do.”

Mary seemed torn, shifting her weight back and forth to each foot, but finally gestured for Callum to follow her inside.

She led him up to Bram’s bedroom, and pressed her finger to her lips to tell him to stay quiet before opening the door for him to enter. He only took a few steps into the room before he stopped short, his breath catching in his chest.

If not for his shallow, labored breathing, Callum might have thought Bram was dead. He was pale and thin-looking, with beads of sweat on his brow. There were dark circles around his eyes, and his entire face had a deathly, sunken look to it.

“What’s the matter with him?” Callum asked. He had looked fine when they’d met, and now Bram looked like a breathing corpse.

Mary sighed as she took a cloth out of a small basin of water on the bedside table. She wrang it out before using it to wipe Bram’s face, and she looked sad. Her voice was quiet when she finally spoke.

“He’s been like this for decades. He has a terrible illness that requires regular blood transfusions,” she explained. “The nearest hospital is a hundred miles from here. We used to have a doctor come regularly to check up on him and to perform the procedure, or they would deliver stocks of blood and ice to keep in the cellar for when he needs it, but we’ve used up our supply. Word travels fast, too—the doctor won’t come here… not when there are rumors of Umbra Harbor under attack by a monster that’s killing people for their blood. So, for now, all Master Bram can do is rest—he isn’t strong enough to travel that far.”

“What will happen if he doesn’t get the transfusion?” Callum asked. Mary didn’t answer, but the grim look on her face was answer enough. He let out a long breath and sat in the chair beside the bed. “And it’s not like you could go to town and ask, right? Not while they’re all convinced there’s a vampire running rampant. They’d likely accuse you and Mr. Shelley.”

“We’re in a real crisis, Mr. Harker,” Mary said softly. She reached out and brushed Bram’s dark hair off his sweaty forehead. “I’d give him my blood if I could, but I’m the only one here to care for him. I’m the wrong blood type anyway.”

Callum leaned forward in his seat and took a deep breath. He rubbed his face with his hands vigorously, hoping he wasn’t about to regret the words that came out of his mouth.

“What about my blood?” he asked, and Mary raised a brow. “According to my doctor back in the Capital City, I have a relatively rare blood type that can be donated to anyone.”

“You would do that for Master Bram?”

“I told you already—I want him to be innocent just as much as you do. Besides, he can’t help me if he dies. I’d like to help, if I can.”

He sat quietly while Mary rushed around, gathering the supplies they would need. His heart thumped loudly in his chest while he watched Bram sleep.

Would his blood be enough? Why was he even going to help him? Why did he even want Bram to be innocent? It wasn’t like he knew the man—was he blinding himself for Bram’s sake? All of the evidence so far pointed to him. Even if he wasn’t the Bloodsucker, it seemed that he had to be involved somehow.

Not that it really mattered. He couldn’t question Bram if he died, and he wasn’t going to let anyone else die in Umbra Harbor if he could help it.

Callum rested in a guest room at the Shelley Estate for a couple of days after the blood transfusion. The procedure had draining him of his energy, and Mary had offered him a place to stay.

Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

He had no idea what time or day it was when he finally woke feeling rested. The room was dark, the windows draped in the same heavy curtains as every other room. He sat up slowly and rubbed his eyes.

“So, you’re finally awake.”

Bram was sitting in a chair by the fireplace, and he looked terrible. He was still much paler than Callum remembered, and had dark circles under his sunken-looking eyes.

“Are you all right to be up?” Callum asked, and Bram laughed softly, sinking into the chair a bit.

“Not really—I’m exhausted. I won’t overexert myself, though. I just wanted to thank you. I’m quite indebted to you at this point, but aside from that, I’d like to know why you’re here.”

“What do you mean?”

“Come on, Mr. Harker.” He leaned forward, giving him a hard stare. “We both know you weren’t here just to check on me, or to donate blood to a sickly Count. So, what really brought you here?”

Callum sighed. Bram’s intense amber eyes made him nervous, and they seemed to stare right through him, and he didn’t think he could lie, even if he wanted to.

“I’m still trying to catch the Bloodsucker,” he explained, “and unfortunately, you’re currently at the top of the list of suspects.”

“And why is that, exactly?”

“You fit the description from those who have survived encounters with him. You’re the only one who doesn’t have a solid alibi, and the fact that I was approached and told to stay away from this estate just—”

“You’ve seen my alibi—I’ve been bedridden for over a week.”

“I have to examine the evidence, Mr. Shelley. I haven’t seen you since before the most recent murder. Even if you were bedridden, I can’t say you don’t have an accomplice. You said it's just you and Mary. I know the person who came to my balcony wasn’t you, but he did tell me to stay away from the Shelley Estate.”

“And that’s enough to incriminate me, apparently,” Bram said, leaning back in his seat.

Callum sighed again, and rubbed the back of his neck. He didn’t want Bram to be guilty, but he couldn’t ignore the facts of the case. So far, Bram was the only suspect.

“Like I said, I have to follow the evidence. Why would they tell me to stay away from here if it has nothing to do with you?”

“To make you suspect me, I presume. Perhaps it’s some ploy to get you out of town, knowing that telling you to stay away would only force you to come here looking for answers.”

Callum’s eyes went wide. He hadn’t thought of it that way before. He’d been at the Shelley Estate for three days, miles away from the people he was there to protect.

“Stay calm, Mr. Harker,” Bram said, putting his hand up. “After your first visit here, I contacted Mr. Seward and his wife at the inn where you’re staying. They’re the only ones in town with a phone, you see. I instructed them to call me if anything else happens. Mary told me about young Abraham, but I was too ill to do anything about it at the time. They haven’t called since, so you can rest for the moment—you haven’t failed to protect anyone by being here.”

Callum was quiet. He got up and went to where Bram was, sitting beside him on the couch. He let out a long breath… a defeated, distant look in his eyes.

“What would you do?” he asked Bram. “I mean… especially now, being aware of what’s going on in your county… You’re responsible for what happens to your citizens. But, that’s why I’m here, and a man has been killed. It feels like shit, not being able to do anything.”

Bram was quiet for a while, then sat up straighter as he folded his hands in his lap.

“Why did you become a private investigator, Mr. Harker?”

“Well…” Callum leaned back and scratched his head. “I don’t know… I suppose I just got caught up in the thrill of mysteries. My parents had a large collection of old detective novels when I was a child. I must have read them a hundred times, and I wanted to experience it all.”

“Has it lived up to your expectations?”

“No,” he said with a dejected tone, his shoulders dropping in defeat. “Nothing noteworthy has happened in the Capital City since the Glasgow Grinner was hanged, and that was long before I was even born. All I ever seem to do is help rich nobles figure out which brothel their husband has been skulking around in, or what servant is pocketing their jewelry. I never felt like my work was making a different or truly helping anyone… nothing worthwhile.”

“And now, here you are,” Bram said with a low chuckle, “hunting vampires up the East Coast.”

Callum laughed softly, but then he frowned. He was still no closer to figuring out who the Bloodsucker was. He was running out of time, especially if he was being targeted. How could he lure the killed out without getting himself killed in the process?

“What about you?” he asked, and Bram gave him a curious look. “Have you always lived in Umbra Harbor?”

“No,” he said with a distant, nostalgic expression. “I grew up far north, in an orphanage in Intuneric. When I was too old to live in the orphanage, I moved into a local brothel.”

“You were a sex worker?”

“I was.” Bram nodded. “Intuneric is largely unregulated by the Crown. Without a family, you really only had two options back then, in a place that couldn’t protect you—you could choose where to work, or you would be put to work. I chose the former, because working in a brothel guarantees things that slavery and trafficking do not. Food, shelter, money… and a small level of protection under the Matron, who obviously wants her workers relatively unharmed in order to continue making money.

“It isn’t a flawless system, though, and there isn’t always someone around to protect you. I got hurt, fairly often, and then a client slashed my throat. That’s when I left.”

Callum audibly gasped at Bram’s statement. The scars on his neck were from a brothel client? He looking like he’d been mauled by a wild animal… what the hell did they use to do it?

“Don’t tell me something so awful,” he said softly, averting his gaze. “I think I’d rather be homeless than—”

“You don’t get to be homeless in Intuneric,” Bram said in a very matter-of-fact tone. “Like I said, you can choose to work, or you can be put to work. More often that not, it’s sex work or the coal mines. I chose to work, and I chose the job that had the most to offer me.”

“I supposed I take my upbringing for granted.” Callum sighed and took his cigarettes out of his pocket, passing one off to Bram. “My parents were always around, and put up with all the trouble I caused. I should have been a better son to them, instead of focusing on what I wanted.”

“I was like that once,” Bram said as he lit his cigarette. He tossed the used match into the fireplace before he leaned back, slinging his arm over the back of the couch. “When I lived in the orphanage, we were wild. We snuck out all the time, caused the caretakers so much grief. We’d run amuck through town, taking what we wanted, bothering the townsfolk, getting into all manner or trouble. We wanted a different life. We wanted to see the work and become so much more than just orphans of Intuneric. We wanted excitement and adventure.”

“What changed?”

“We got older,” he stated, and let out a sad sigh. “We were forced to make some unbearable decisions about our futures. Some of them escaped Intuneric, some were trafficked away, and some chose to stay and become just another part of the city, like me.”

“But you left, eventually. Is that when you came to Otravire?” Callum asked, and he nodded.

“I had intended to stop sex work entirely, but trying to survive in a strange new country alone is difficult. I got back into it when I couldn’t find a place to live,” he explained, looking a bit ashamed of himself. “I peddled myself to nobles in the Capital City, as a means to collect information to protect myself. I was given this county in exchange for my silence about my… ‘business arrangements...’ with the Crown Prince. If I had to guess, he gave me this particular county because it’s so far from the Capital City.”

Callum was silent, smoking his cigarette while he tried to process everything Bram was telling him. Van Helsing had told him the name on the deed to the Shelley Estate and Umbra Harbor had never changed in the last few hundred years. If it had been turned over to Bram in exchange for silence, then it made sense as to why there was no paperwork. Without proof, there was no chance for anyone to question the Crown Prince or Bram about the sudden change in ownership.

“What about the previous Count?” Callum questioned. “Surely he must have had something to say about this, even if it did come from the Crown Prince.”

“He died,” Bram stated, a bit curtly. The tone of his voice and the hard expression in his eyes made Callum a bit unnerved. He clearly didn’t want to talk about the previous Count.

“Well,” Callum said, exhaling a large huff of smoke as he tossed what was left of his cigarette into the fire. He stood and stretched his arms over his head. “I think I’ve gotten enough information for one night. Your story makes sense, and your alibi checks out, for now. Perhaps the Bloodsucker just doesn’t want you helping me.”

“I would like to help, though,” Bram told him. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to accompany next time you speak to any of the townsfolk. I can’t go into many of the buildings, thanks to Helsing and his strange superstitions, but perhaps we can find a place to set you up in a small office.”

“I don’t know…” Callum rubbed the back of his neck, shifting a bit with unease. “I’m still no closer to an answer, and we still don’t know what the Bloodsucker is really after. It could be you.”

“Mr. Harker, I am the Count. I can’t just stay holed up in this manor while my citizens are being murdered in the night. I won’t interfere with your investigations—I only intend to sit back and observe.”

When Callum returned to town, he went straight to Van’s. He needed to let him know that Bram had an alibi, and Van would need to ease up on the garlic and the accusations if Bram was going to spend more time in Umbra Harbor.

“Have you lost your damn mind?” Van asked, slamming a book down onto his kitchen table. “Even if the Court has an alibi this time, it doesn’t make him innocent. Don’t you think you’re spending a little too much time with him?”

“What are you talking about?” Callum raised an eyebrow while he sipped on his ale. “You’re the one who told me to go up there when I wanted nothing to do with him! Don’t you think it would be more suspicious if I suddenly cut ties with Bram?”

“Oh, it’s ‘Bram’ now, is it?” Van teased, and Callum felt his ears get hot.

“Come on, Van, that’s not—”

“I’m just saying, don’t let your guard down. Attacks and sightings are still occurring, and we don’t really know if he’s involved. He’s still a suspect, like everyone else. Don’t let him get too close—vampires often seduce their victims.”

“Please…” Callum rolled his eyes. “I’m not sleeping with the Count.”