Jaylen Crook was leaning back on her truck with her arms crossed, staring up at the highway. She could see where she’d plowed through the snowbank to get to the clearing, and she was sure that anyone driving down the highway would be able to see it as well.

An SUV, following her tracks, pulled off the road and dove into the snowy underbrush without slowing down. That was enough to convince her that she knew the driver.

Sure enough, Darius Vasil pulled up next to her truck, parked, and stepped out. As always, he was wearing an impossibly neat suit and designer sunglasses, despite the fact it wasn’t all that sunny.

Jaylen discovered she wasn’t as annoyed as usual. It probably had something to do with the gratitude she grudgingly owed him since it was his resources that had gotten them this far, this fast.

“Good afternoon, Deputy,” he said.

“Vasil.”

With that, the pleasantries were over. Crook turned and started walking further away from the road.

“We traced the boy’s cell phone,” she said as she walked. “It didn’t get us all the way there, but it showed us where to start looking. This morning one of the searchers called in about a shack. He said it smelled suspicious.”

“Smelled suspicious?”

“Those were his words.”

“Did he go inside?”

“It wasn’t his shack.”

“Whose shack is it?”

“Nobody’s. It’s an illegal structure. Probably something a group of hunters or fishermen built a long time ago. It looks about that old.”

“You’ve seen it?”

“I went out to look at it when we got the call.”

“Did you go inside?”

Crook stopped and turned. “Nobody’s gone inside, Vasil. We’re talking about missing people and major weirdness. I called for backup from Deen, but I’ll bet you can guess what he told me.”

“To wait for me.”

“Why does that man have such a crush on you?”

“I saved his life once or twice.”

Crook tried to read Darius’s expression, but his face was placid, and the sunglasses hid his eyes.

“He said that,” she said. “Told me he’d tell me the story someday over a pint of beer. I told him I didn’t drink.”

That got a reaction: Darius’s eyebrows shot up.

“You don’t drink?”

“Not with my boss.” Crook turned and kept walking.

As they went deeper into the woods, Darius grew more and more tense. His tightening nerves stirred his senses to their peak. He used them to try to figure out what was putting him on edge.

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He paused to take off his sunglasses and scan the surrounding woods. Everything looked normal. But all of his other senses insisted something was wrong. He couldn’t hear any animals or birds. The air felt artificially still, as if someone had trapped the forest in a closed room for a hundred years. The lack of any breeze made it hard to smell much, but Darius thought he recognized the faint scent hanging over everything.

He put his sunglasses back on. “Deputy, do you smell that?”

Crook didn’t stop walking, but she threw a curious glance over her shoulder. “You have a good nose, Agent. I couldn’t smell it until I was next to the shack.”

They mounted the next hill, and the shack came into view.

It was a small square one-room building covered by a low roof. It hadn’t been well-built in the first place, and time had not been kind to it. The wood was so weathered, it was splitting away from the structure. There were two small windows, one on each side of the door. One was broken.

“Did you see anything when you looked in?” Darius asked.

“It was hard to see in. There was no light,” Crook said.

“Then—do you mind?”

The deputy peered at him. Darius had always gone out of his way to be respectful of the fact that they were, supposedly, her cases. He rarely made requests. The fact he was doing so now seemed ominous.

She nodded to the shack. Darius stepped in front of her, but when she tried to follow, he held up his hand to stop her.

In a low voice, he said, “I would prefer if you stayed further behind me. Gun out, please.”

Crook tried to ignore the hairs rising on the back of her neck. “There was no one there.”

“It might have looked that way, but things have been weird lately.”

Crook drew her gun and didn’t start toward the shack until Darius was three yards in front of her.

Darius walked as quietly as he could, up to the broken window of the shack. The smell grew more noticeable as he approached, but it never became choking. Not like Conrad had described.

The vampire knew his nose wasn’t as good as Conrad’s, but he found it more convenient to assume the thing wasn’t home.

He listened and heard nothing. As he took off his sunglasses, he caught himself wishing Emerra was there.

Relying on someone else’s eyes? You’re getting weak, Darius. Besides, she’d make a terrible agent.

That was true, but mostly he was glad that she was safe at home.

He peeked over the edge of the window, into the gloom. His night vision allowed him to see everything Crook had missed.

The room was mostly empty. Leaves and dirt had come in through the broken window and drifted to the edge of the walls. Darius spotted a broken mug, an odd bit of metal, and other scraps poking out from the debris, but what commanded his attention were the jumbled piles at the far end of the building.

The vampire’s sense of smell informed him there was blood throughout each one.

He sighed, turned away from the scene, and walked back to Crook.

“You have your flashlight?” he asked.

“Yes. Did you see something?”

“Nothing alive. Do you get cell signal out here?”

“Spotty, but I have the radio in the truck if I need it. Why?”

Darius didn’t bother answering. She’d figure it out soon enough.

She said, “Does Simon say I can go in now?”

Vasil was impressed with how little bitterness made it into that question. Crook must have been nervous.

“Let’s go in.”

The vampire led the way. There was no lock on the door. Most of its weight hung on the lower hinge, so it groaned as he pushed it open and stepped inside.

He scanned every inch of the room but saw nothing. There was always a chance the thing was invisible, but he hoped it was a small chance. He motioned for the deputy to join him.

She didn’t think to warn him when she turned on her flashlight. Darius winced away from the sudden glare.

The beam moved along the darkest corners of the room, then stopped on the mounds at the far wall.

“Our missing people?” she said.

“I think so.” Darius walked toward the remains. “They’re definitely human.”

“Are you sure?”

Without touching it, Darius pointed to a scrap of clothing hanging like a tattered flag off a protruding bone.

“What happened to them?” Crook asked.

Darius scooted over so he could inspect the next pile. “I think they were torn apart. Then eaten.”

“Are we talking about an animal?”

Darius didn’t answer.

“Vasil?”

He stood up and turned. “Some of it looks like it could have been eaten by an animal.”

“And the rest?”

“You better call a few people. We have a lot to process.”

Crook watched him for a while, then nodded. “All right.” She half turned to the door, but then she looked back. “Are you going to stay here while I call?”

“Yes. I’ll look after the scene.”

“Is that—is it safe?”

“Safe enough. The freshest body is over two days old.”

Crooks eyes darted over to the mess. “You can tell that by looking?”

“Let’s just say I’m an expert on blood and leave it at that.”