I waved my hand at him, stopping any movement toward the door. “No, don’t go messing with their memories. You need their trust and you don’t get that if you’re mucking around in their brains.”
“They’ll never know.”
“I’ll know.”
Knox nodded, removing his dark sunglasses so that I could look into his brown eyes. “I’ll do better next time.”
“Thank you,” I murmured as I stepped up to the body. It was highly unusual for Knox to be so gruff and harsh when dealing with humans. His nature was very ingratiating, and his dark, handsome looks tended to win over the reluctant. His maker had the same manner. Because of his uncharacteristic behavior, I was beginning to worry that Knox had been well-acquainted with the victim.
Looking down at the steel tray, my eyes skimmed over the badly burned face. The skin was blackened and the eyes were now gone as if they had melted in their sockets, sending the fluid down in to the back of the skull. It looked like he might have had short-cut, brown hair. But the condition of the head wasn’t the disturbing part. It was the fact that it was no longer attached to the body.
It was likely that that was the killing blow, but the murderer could have removed his heart first and then his head. The nightwalker’s chest cavity had been ripped open and the heart cut out using some kind of serrated blade that had torn the edges of the flesh into ugly shreds. At least it was likely that the victim had felt no pain. It appeared that it all happened during the daylight hours, meaning that the vampire had been dead to the world.
“I’m assuming that you recognize who this is,” I said, my own mood growing more sour and anxious as I continued to examine the corpse. I vaguely knew all the nightwalkers within my domain. There were more here than in most cities this size, but then I maintained a tight control over my domain. It afforded those that lived here more of a sense of security and peace than what many cities could offer.
However, during the past few years, I had begun to withdraw from my own kind, no longer wanting to be faced with them. I didn’t want to hear their thoughts in the night, or feel their cool presence as I moved silently through the city searching for my next meal. Knox had taken over much of the night-to-night management. Of course, that simply required him making regular appearances at all the nightwalker hot spots.
“His name was Bryce.” Knox leaned his back against the refrigeration unit, his arms crossed over his chest. His shoulders were stiff and his normally neutral expression was twisted into a frown.
With my hands braced on the table before me, I looked up at my companion. “What’s your problem? Did you know him well?”
A faint shrug briefly lifted his narrow shoulders. “I knew him, but not well.”
“Then what has got you so on edge?”
“He was executed,” he hissed, waving one hand at the severed head. “His head was cut off and his heart removed. He was executed during the day when he was defenseless. How are you not unnerved by this?”
“He was possibly killed during the day,” I corrected, trying to keep both of us calm and rational. “We won’t know for sure until we check his house.” The truth was that I was unnerved and more than a little concerned. If Bryce had been killed at night, it was highly likely that the murderer was another nightwalker. And then my only reason for tracking down the murderer would be punishment for allowing the humans to catch wind of it and threatening our secret. However, if Bryce had been killed during the day, we had a bigger problem. But we had to tackle one thing at a time, and a panicked Knox would do me no good.
“How old was he?” I demanded, attempting to refocus Knox’s attention.
“Less than two centuries.”
“How long has he been in my domain?”
“About a decade. Maybe a little more.”
“Was he involved in anything recently that I should be aware of? Changes in allegiance? Was he a part of a family?”
Knox pushed away from the wall and stood, shoving one hand through his sandy blond hair. “I–I’m not sure.”
“Concentrate,” I murmured, looking over Bryce for any identifying marks. Some families were known for branding their members. We couldn’t be tattooed because we always healed, but we could retain some scars if we were low on blood and were unable to heal properly. The process was generally painful and ugly, but then most families were painful, ugly affairs. I didn’t find anything on Bryce, but I wasn’t surprised. Most of his body was either singed or blackened from its exposure to the sun.
“He’s a part of the Ravana family, I believe. He came to Savannah alone and immediately got sucked into Justin’s clan,” Knox replied. His voice grew steadier the longer he spoke, as if he were finally detaching himself from the gruesome death of the nightwalker that lay before him. Nightwalker flocks were like high school cliques, each with its own set of rules and bizarre tastes.
A low, steady hiss escaped me as I turned this new bit of information over in my brain. I had been hoping that he wasn’t a member of one of few families that existed within my domain, but of them all, Justin Ravana’s clan was the most undesirable. Cruel and vicious, Justin was one of the oldest within my territory and had been practically raised by the Coven. I hadn’t thought much of his petition to live in my domain decades ago, but I had regretted agreeing ever since. Justin specialized in brutality, torture, and control. No one that entered into his family ever escaped it alive.
“When Bryce was away from his family, he tended to associate mostly with fledglings,” Knox continued. “During the past few years, I’ve seen him mainly with this small group of nightwalkers, mostly females, all less than a century old.”
“Not exactly the best list of suspects you’ve got for me.” I stood, pulling away from my examination of the corpse. “A group of fledglings? It’s possible that it was Justin, but it’s not his style to hand off the murder to someone else who could do it during the day. He’d want to be part of it. Justin would have taken the time to handle it personally over a series of weeks if possible.”
“What? You’ve never seen a fledgling kill another nightwalker?” Knox scoffed. The comment finally caused some of the tension to roll off of his shoulders.
“I’ve seen the remains of plenty of fledgling kills, but I’ve never known of any fledgling that could accomplish the feat during the day. And I’ve never known a fledgling to kill a nightwalker in this style.”
“Really? Fledglings have a style? A preferred method of murder?” he mocked.
“Don’t we all?” I batted my eyes at him.
“We all know your preferred method, Fire Starter,” Knox said, shoving his hands into the pockets of his worn jeans. He leaned against the cooler, careful to keep his eyes on me and not on the corpse. “What about fledglings?”
“I guess I have something in common with them. Fire is their preferred method. It’s fast, effective, and relatively easy. Of course, I’ve seen just as many fledglings go up in flames with their intended victim because they weren’t careful.”
“So you’re saying one of the fledglings that knew Bryce didn’t kill him,” he suggested, earning him a grin.
“I didn’t say that. It’s possible, but unlikely, particularly if he was killed during the day.” I wasn’t willing to say out loud who I thought had killed Bryce—we were both on edge enough.
An easy silence settled between us as I contemplated our dead friend and his potential attacker. Knox stood nearby, ready to offer up information. He was careful to look anywhere but at the half-burned, beheaded corpse. “Did you ever do this with my maker?” Knox softly asked, fiddling with his sunglasses.
“What? Look at corpses with Valerio?” I asked, my brow furrowed at the unexpected question. “All the time. It was how we spent most of our nights.”