I cocked an eyebrow. “Okay. So what’s your vampire chat room even called?”
Sterling grinned out of the corner of his mouth, his fangs gleaming in Paradise’s artificial sun. “‘This Place Sucks.’”
I chuckled. “Very cute.”
There was no sense really doubting Sterling, though. I never did delve very deep into vampire politics and etiquette, but I did know that maintaining ties with the local community was very important. It helped them govern themselves, in the sense of tracking and identifying vampires who might prove problematic for the local population. They were territorial creatures, and nobody wanted to go spooking and killing the neighborhood humans, not if they didn’t want supernatural authorities coming down on them. Hard.
But that begged the question. These killings were interesting enough for creatures as ancient and as bloodthirsty as vampires. If they were paying attention to these murders, then there was good reason for us to do so as well. Especially if they were – did he say they were missing organs?
“Very mummy-like,” Asher said. “You know, the whole removed organs thing? Except that was usually done to preserve the organs and bury them with the mummy in question anyway, at least in ancient Egypt. Canopic jars, they’re called, the vessels that you keep the organs in.”
Florian shook his head. “But that doesn’t make sense. Do you mean to say that someone’s going around collecting organs to preserve? What for?”
Asher shrugged. “I was just sharing. I don’t think they’re stealing organs for that purpose, whoever they are.”
Artemis paused chewing long enough to drag the back of her hand across her lips. “Yeah, okay,” she mumbled with her mouth still half full. “But what if they’re eating them?”
I blinked at her. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me.” She speared the last bit of pancake on her plate with the tip of a knife. “What if they’re eating those organs?”
Sterling snapped his fingers, cocked one at Artemis, then winked. “Bingo. Goddess of the hunt got it in one. That’s my whole point. Beelzebub is what again, the Prince of Gluttony? Who else would be nutty enough to go around extracting organs for personal pleasure? They’re delicacies, after all. Sweet breads and offal.”
Florian gagged. “I think it’s all awful, if you ask me.”
“Very cute,” Sterling said, nodding in approval as he reached for a cigarette. “That’s a good one, Florian.”
Asher shoved his last piece of pancake in his mouth, chasing the bite with a gulp of milk. “You know what? I’m gonna check this out. Now you’ve got me all curious.”
He rummaged through his backpack, and I tilted my head this way and that, trying to guess at what nifty magical artifact he was going to pull out and use to divine more details on the matter. He did, as a necromancer, frequently tap into the underworld, speaking to spirits to seek out information.
“Aha,” he said, pulling out his arcane implement. I parted my lips, prepared to give a delighted “Ooh,” when I saw that he was only retrieving a laptop.
“Huh,” I said. “And here I thought you were going to commune with the dead or something.”
He shook his head. “That’s casting too wide a net, especially if this has been happening in several places. Makes more sense to narrow things down a little.” He turned to Sterling expectantly. “Can I get some info? Dates, places, maybe names? I’ll need a head start.”
Sterling rolled his eyes, then handed Asher his phone. “Just don’t look at my recent photos. Actually, go ahead, you might find something to like.”
Asher reddened, then scoffed. “You guys have a pretty decent wifi connection in here,” he said, his eyes flitting between his laptop and Sterling’s phone.
I glanced around, still wondering where Artemis hid the router. “Yeah, about that. Where is the internet coming from?”
Artemis chugged the last of her milk, getting up from the table. “Don’t worry about it. I know a guy.”
I shrugged. Not my problem, as long as I still got to browse the web and watch videos. Uh, you know, about pancakes and stuff.
There was something soothing about the sound of Asher’s fingers rapidly typing away at the keyboard. I always forgot so readily how he really was just a regular kid, all his freaky death magic aside. He was a necromancer, and a gamer, and a computer nerd. Kind of like me, really, just some guy who happened to have bizarre powers.
And that was when it dawned on me. Did the victims have anything in common? Serial killers tended to have preferences, working in patterns. But this was some mass, concerted effort. Surely it wasn’t coincidence, Valero’s vampires all aflutter about organ theft and murder. Were the victims the same age, maybe? The same gender?
My nails dug into the table as it hit me. Were they truly human? What if they were mages, or supernaturals?
And before I could ask a single one of my many questions, the door to Samyaza’s hut banged open. “Good morning,” he boomed, waving at our table as he lumbered over.
My father, like myself, apparently liked to sleep shirtless, which wasn’t really a big deal given the tropical climate of Paradise. He slid in next to me, beaming as he helped himself to his own stack of pancakes.
“I made those myself,” I said, grinning.
He ruffled my hair. “I’m sure they’re amazing.” I grinned harder. This whole unconditional love thing was kind of nice, to be honest.
“Oh no,” Asher said, his brows furrowed as he stared at his laptop’s screen.
“What is it?” Sterling said, bending in. Florian joined them wordlessly, focusing on the screen himself. The three of them exchanged glances, then looked at me, then at Samyaza.
I blinked. “What? What the hell is it?”
“Sam?” Asher said. “Could you stand up for a second? We need to get a good look at your body.”
Samyaza shrugged and did as he was told, his chair scraping along the ground as he pushed back from the table and got up.
“Could you
