A Sanguinary Rose (Complete)
Sanguine Power

I threw up on his rug.

When I regained motor conscience, my knees buckled and I fell on my fours, the reflex at the back of my throat kicking in, too late to stop the acid creeping up and burning my esophagus.

“You have to be kidding me!” Principal Luther said to Mandala. He bounded from the swiveling chair to his feet. “Mind being more careful next time? That smell will be a bitch to scrub off.” He turned to me. “What’s the matter, Scarlett? Skipping school at the mall?”

“There will be no need for detention. Scarlett’s been very cooperative,” Mandala said. He had to duck to avoid hitting his head with the door’s lintel.

“She’s in for detention just for wearing that. C’mon, did you forget the scarlet letter somewhere?” My inner vampire had receded to whatever pit of my psyche it liked to crawl out of, so my frail, human self was back, and his jape pierced right through me. The Principal’s bald head gleamed with the fluorescent bars of light. The vein on his forehead threatening to pop became my focal point of staring to calm my temper as he loomed over me with his arms crossed.

A huge hand closed around my arm and yanked me to my feet. “I cannot take her home.” Mandala’s deep voice said behind me. “She’s your problem now.”

Principal Luther slid the telephone across his desk. “Call your parents.”

“Glad that’s settled.” There was a rush of air, a flash of light reflected against the glass in the portrait frames and the windows, and the warlock was gone.

The weight of his presence immediately tapered off in the overall mood, and I could tell the Principal became at ease because he sighed and sank back in his chair. “Somebody fetch the janitor. I’m about to get ill.”

How would I explain this to my parents? I reached for the phone’s handset.

Dad got out to work earlier than all of us in the morning, so it was Mom’s turn to freak out when she found my bedroom empty and her daughter nowhere to be found when she called me for breakfast. Thankfully, I rang before it spiraled into cataclysmic proportions. Mom had just hung up after asking Anja on my whereabouts.

I had to make up a flimsy story about how I had to come to school earlier for an economics course.

“Still, why are you not picking up, baby?”

“Um, I was in class.”

“Why not text me then?”

“I don’t know, Mom. I phased out, okay? Can you please help me out here? I’m about to get detention for being ‘improper.’ So please don’t forget to bring my hoodie, and my sunglasses, too. Uh, and my cellphone, please?”

“Your cellphone? What teenager forgets her cellphone?” I heard a tiny scoff across the line. “All right, but next time leave a message. I had to give my boss a teary-eyed phone call and now I’m gonna have to walk in there pretending to be all relieved. See you in a minute.”

“Sorry about that. See ya.” I hung up.

Principal Luther stared at me with a smug expression. “What a bad liar you are.”

***

By the time I had changed into the clothes I favored taking to school—tubed black jeans, my new anti-UV hoodie, hiking boots—my block period was halfway through its fifty minute mark.

Mr. Royce gave me a passing glance as I stalked along the aisle and took my usual seat next to Anja in the fourth row, and continued his lecture on wendigo conflicts with explorers in the 19th century.

“Where were you? Your mom called me moments ago,” Anja said in a conspicuous whisper.

“I’ll tell you about it later.” I raised my eyebrows at her long blue sleeves of velvet. “How’s your... you know?”

“Oh it’s bare—” she began loudly, but I shut her up with a hush. “It’s barely noticeable now.” That whisper was low enough for only me to hear it, but I still caught Alan to her left perking up his ears and casting a curious glance in our direction.

That spooked me enough to turn to the dull lecture on wendigos.

Anja laid her head over her arms on her desk and whispered. “So who are you going with tonight?”

“Tonight?” The whole thing about the Halloween dance had completely faded from my mind—specially after yesterday, who could blame me? “Oh, shit, tonight. A senior named Harvey.”

“Ooh, what is he like?” Anja turned and leaned towards me. “A senior? Scarlett.” That came out as Scarleeeeeeeett.

“Guess he’s all right. We’ve never talked before. I don’t know what to wear, though.”

“Why not the dress you wore for Homecoming?”

“That one’s ruined.” I cast a quick glance at Melanie sitting in the corner of the room, her eyes glazed out of boredom.

“Maybe one of your mom’s.” S~ᴇaʀᴄh the FɪndNøvel.ɴᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

“I might have to do that. Good thing she’s a fashionista.” Thinking she’d be going with Alan stung me a little. I bit my lower lip and tried to sound excited for her. I wiggled my eyebrows at her. “What about you? You’re going with Alan, aren’t you?”

The tone in her voice surprised me. Her usual bubbly energetic attitude went down like a firework that sputtered off anticlimactically. Cautious of his proximity, she lowered her voice even more. “He’s supposed to take me to it. But he never asked me out. Nobody’s invited me... not even Oliver. I don’t think anyone will.”

I felt a pang of remorse. Oliver did invite me, and that made me feel worse for her. “Must be because everyone thinks you’re going with him. Don’t worry about it. Just seize the time of your life.”

“Yeah,” she said, and turned to the lecture just as Mr. Royce wrapped up with a homework reading.

I waited for the last few students to file out of the classroom before I approached the teacher scrubbing the whiteboard with the eraser.

“Can we talk?”

“Certainly. Never hesitate to reach out.” He turned and saw my pursed lips. “Not here, I presume?”

I nodded. “I’m gonna need a pass for third.”

Once in his orderly tiny office, he set a creasing bag of cow’s blood on his desk.

“I’m not hungry.”

His eyes narrowed in disbelief. “How can you not be? It’s been twenty-four hours. Even if you’re not, you will be.”

Of course, it was more prudent to feign hunger than set him on the path of suspicion. It was dull: its taste, its texture, its warmth, its viscosity. This crap couldn’t compare to what Anja offered me the night before.

It was wrong though. I pushed the thoughts away.

Despite last night’s events, I couldn’t be sure how to get to the meat of the issue.

“Hm... how do you spend your Halloween week? I mean, after school and all?”

Mr. Royce scrunched up his eyes, confused. “I take work home, of course. I sit down with a cup of coffee and a good book when grading makes me want to give up in life.”

“That can’t be it.”

“And sometimes I get on Netflix. But that continues to prove a hardship. I can’t bring myself to watch what you kids call entertainment nowadays.” He coughed. “But that’s not what you were expecting to hear.”

“You don’t go out?”

“If I’m out of root beer. Why?”

“Because I go out. Almost every night. I take my strolls through town because it takes away the stress and keeps my mind busy. Last night, however, it was full of vampires, at least one guarding every corner, hiding between alleys, backyards, trails, you know, doing vampire stuff... I saw them, and they saw me. Although they didn’t seem to care, instead deciding to tail other people. I’d never seen any of the sort before, much less on such scale. A pair of them dragged a girl away. I wanted to intervene... I tried, but then I don’t remember what happened. It’s quite blurry.”

The teacher was tapping his fingers on the desk. “Is that why you came late to class?”

“I don’t know where I woke up. It was a clinic, in one of the government buildings, I think. The Bureau’s overseer made me an offer I couldn’t refuse, or I’d have to take meds by force. He said I’d be on probation. So, I accepted.”

“Wait, slow down. They’ve discovered you?” He leaned over the desk.

I nodded, blood rushing to my face.

“But why did you wake up over there?”

“No clue. The overseer said one of their employees found me meandering in the woods.”

Mr. Royce raised his eyebrows. “One employee... just happened to find you in the woods... at that hour? Who was it?”

“A big dude. Goes by Mandala. Well, I think it was him.”

His frown became more pronounced. “Mandala? You mean the Mandala?”

“The stylish-looking brute that could squash you between his thumb and pointer? Bullseye.”

“That can’t be good. He’s not the kind of person you can investigate on a whim. His past is filled with obscure details that elude any kind of scrutiny. He’s for sure one of the most prominent figures working for ORPHEUS in recent years. I remember once reading he got ousted from the IWA (International Warlock/Witch Association) for forbidden practices outside necromancy, because rumor has it he’s practiced it aplenty. What little I know is that he’s dangerous, Ms. Rosenbaum. Be wary of him.”

“The overseer said he’d be my counselor.”

His eyes widened. “Counselor? What for? What are they going to have you do? Wrestle with werewolves?”

“They never got to that bit.”

“What do you know of witches and warlocks, Ms. Rosenbaum?” he said, reaching into his breast pocket.

“Only what you told me last time. Why? Is there more I should know you didn’t consider important at the time?”

“We’ll have a lecture on witches and warlocks come next month, but it cannot wait anymore. It’s important you understand. Usually, the main goal in a warlock’s life is to develop his cabalistic prowess and define his forte. They bond with vampires, werewolves, devils, etc., to further their powers. Grimoires catalyze and channel those powers, and as they grow stronger and wiser, they can do away with them, or they can change catalyzer for something more subtle or convenient, such as a pocket watch.” Mr. Royce pulled out the golden watch and held it up before me. The minute hand ticked into 3. “My forte is time magic, as you may have noticed. The gamut can vary wildly, or it can be as conventional as you picturing ‘magic.’ There are jack-of-all-trades and specialists. Can you think of anything Mandala might use as a catalyst?” He slid his pocket watch back into his sports jacket.

“I don’t think so. He wears gloves, but that’s about all I can tell.”

“The fact he doesn’t use a catalyst speaks volumes of the powers he’s capable of. Can you tell me of anything in his bag of tricks? Have you seen him perform any spells or magic?”

Chills ran along my limbs when I recalled how he made me his puppet.

“I’m not sure. He...” I shuddered. “He got under my skin... Somehow he could move my limbs, control my body from a distance... just by gesturing.” My mouth contorted with disgust. “It’s messed up.”

Mr. Royce swiveled on his chair, and his gaze fell on the ticking clock on the wall.

“How do you mean?” He pressed his temples. “Did he possess you? Possession is illegal. Did you feel his presence in your mind, or him doing your body’s movements?”

“No... I don’t think it was possession. He didn’t get in my head. Some unseen force was pulling me to make the movements he bid, like a tugging... in my veins.”

Mr. Royce wheeled his chair around. “That’s it. A tugging in your veins.”

“Totally. Like strings flowing along my limbs and coming out my neck and elbows.”

The teacher had paled in the wan lighting of his office. “His forte must be blood magic.” He lunged across the desk and squeezed my hand. “Proceed only with the utmost caution, Ms. Rosenbaum. It’s the blood in your veins he controls. He can lower or elevate your pressure at will or stop flow into your heart altogether.”

“I’ll try not to get on his sour mood then.”

“Never,” he said, enunciating both syllables. “What he did to you was a show of power to dissuade defiance.” He swallowed. “I shudder to think what such nasty magic can do.”

***

When the latest onyx-plated BMW model pulled up before our porch that night, I almost laughed out loud.

“Don’t forget to call me if he’s a jackass. I’ll come pick you up,” Mom said as a goodbye, pushing a strand of hair behind my ear. Then gave me a warning look. “Also, extra careful with that dress. It goes way back to my prom night.”

“I will and I will. See ya.” The dress she talked about was the one-sleeve red long cocktail dress that left the small of my back bare and hugged tightly around my hips.

My inner vampire was out in full force tonight. It derided Harvey’s obvious attempts to make me fall for his luxurious charms. I gave him a beaming smile when he opened and held the door for me.

Other than his impressionable height reaching for about 6.5 feet, he was a pretty nondescript guy with a mop of brown hair that hit the attractiveness meter to a fraction above average. He donned a black tuxedo with a bow tie and a velvet folding handkerchief in its pocket. The outfit did little to highlight his features even if it was the best money could buy.

The engine roared on ignition and Harvey eased in on the accelerator into the 20s. I thought it was pointless driving from home to school since it was ten minutes within walking distance.

“So, you look gorgeous tonight,” he said after a few seconds of silence more uncomfortable than he could handle. “It... draws the blue in your eyes.”

“Oh, you know. I try to go light on the makeup, but thanks.”

“Music?” He said, desperate to change the subject.

“Oh, you want me to stay quiet?”

I could sense his blood pressure swelling. “That’s... not what I meant.”

“I’m joking. I mean, we’re almost there, anyway.”

We made the trip in five minutes, or less. Harvey pulled up in the school’s parking lot and he took the keys from the ignition.

“I get you’re a vampire, but why you gotta act so tough?”

“Tough? You mean the teasing? Please, I haven’t even started. How did you know, by the way?”

“Who doesn’t?”

“Oh.” I couldn’t tell what he was just by looking him up and down. His size was the only clue I had to go by, and that told me, a novice, nothing. “What are you then?”

Harvey bit his lips. “Nephilim.”

I arched my eyebrows.

“Dad’s an angel. Fallen now. Mom’s human. Equals me.”

“Oh.”

“Let’s go. We’re missing out.”

The chilly wind prickled my skin with goose bumps as we traversed the now ‘haunted’ school grounds. The Arts and Crafts’ black spiders poised over bushes and crawled down the building’s facade. Skeletons hanged from tree branches. Tiki torches lit the way along the cobbled paths toward the commons’ entrance. The scarecrow in the middle of the junctions welcomed students and staff alike to the annual dance with a sign nailed to its outstretched hay arms while barking out instructions in an animatronic voice. As cars dropped students by the curb, guys helped their dates off them and walked hand in hand.

Harvey’s fingers brushed with mine as we went. I pretended to scratch an itch on my arm carrying my purse until we got to the entrance. Music rocked the walls of the building, and we met its blast when Harvey pushed open the doors.

The lunch tables had been arranged in neat columns and draped with white linen tablecloths. A kit of candy in buckets stood on their center and balloons floated above. A dance floor was raised off to the right, with fog emission devices and bright lights flashing from its tiles. The lights in the hall were dimmed down and the moon-shaped disco ball sparkled in a variety of colors that threatened to give me a headache.

I didn’t remember coming to this last year. But then again, I probably turned people down out of fear of embarrassment and stayed home to watch TV with Mom. All of this being new to me, I let Harvey take the lead, as we pushed through crowds of students. Guys will be guys, so he took me to meet his circle of friends and their dates—a bunch of seniors I’d never met.

“What’s up, all?”

“All good, man,” they responded.

“Doing pretty good myself,” another one said.

“This is Scarlett,” Harvey said with a wave. “Scarlett, these are...”

I never cared to learn their names so forgive me for skipping that part and leaving you intrigued. There was only one name that stuck with me, though.

“I know Scarlett. She hangs out with that Belial kid,” Demian said to his friends, and then to me, almost mocking, though I couldn’t be sure of his tone. “Am I right or am I right?”

“Who?” asked his date.

“You know, the one with ‘daddy issues,’” Demian said. Two of his friends sneered. Harvey glanced at me with a wince of embarrassment.

I turned to him. “And I’ll be with my friends. You know where to find me. Excuse me.”

I peered through the crowd and found them at a table. They weren’t the friends I was looking for though—not Anja or Oliver. It had been weeks since I hung out with Rick and Amanda and Tiffany. Somehow it felt like a lifetime ago, so yes, it was awkward sidling up to their table like old times.

“Hey, Scarlett. Long time,” Rick said, grinning. Sure, we got to talk sometimes during class before Mr. Howard sent him to the front rows, but it wasn’t the same as before.

“Yeah, how come don’t you love us anymore?” Amanda said in a friendly teasing tone. “Red looks great on you, by the way. It matches your dress so well.”

“It does, doesn’t it?” I said. “It also matches my favorite food in the world.”

Rick looked down, thinking. “Tomatoes? That can’t be right.”

“Do you guys mind if I sit here with you?”

“Of course not. Hey, sis, don’t forget you’re one of us,” Amanda said, drawing a chair from under the table, and while she did, Tiffany glanced at me and turned away, pushing her glasses up her nose. Pretty obvious not everyone shared Amanda’s sentiment. “So who asked you out? Is it a surprise?”

“I really appreciate that. Um, some dude called Harvey.”

“Isn’t he a senior? Dang, Scarlett,” Amanda said. “Although you don’t seem too optimistic about it.”

I gave her a look.

“I hear his parents make some mad stacks of money,” Rick said, lowering his voice. “That lucky son of a bitch.”

One time the double doors opened I spotted Anja and Alan coming in. She donned a gorgeous blue dress that flowered into a skirt and high white heels. Alan was decked out in a fancy bow tie tuxedo and had his whitish blond hair slicked back with gel. His dashing appearance was only marred by his stone-cold features. The two were together, but didn’t seem to be together, as though some kind of invisible barrier kept them apart.

I beckoned to Anja to join us. She smiled at me, but in a sort of muted way. That, plus the way she was meekly pushing through the crowd to reach us, told me all was not well. She slid into the seat next to me.

“Anja, these are Rick, Amanda, and Tiffany.”

“Hi!” she waved at them. “Hi Tiffany.” Of course, both of them had been together in cryptology class who knows how many ages before I joined.

The bespectacled girl grimaced in a low-key haughty way, as though implying, Who are you to talk to me? “Um, hi.”

Bitch.

Amanda waved excitedly but arched her eyebrows in surprise when Alan sat down next to Anja.

After a few moments of uncomfortable silence, Tiffany got up and left. Rick and Amanda turned to each other to have their conversation. We three remained in silence.

“Where’s Oliver?” I asked Anja.

She peered around the crowd. “Huh. Maybe he’s not coming.”

“He’s not texting back. Last seen six hours ago.” I put the phone back in my purse.

“Hey, you gallant tiger you,” I watched Amanda asking Rick while fluttering her eyelashes. “Could you get me some apple juice?”

“Is that a dare? Watch me go.” He hopped to his feet and strode to the soda bar.

“Yeah, it’s kinda hot in here. I wouldn’t mind a drink, either.” I said, and Anja nodded in agreement. “Alan, would you mind helping us get a drink?”

The look of disbelief he gave me might have been hilarious, but it made me feel bad for Anja.

“Are you serious?”

“It’s okay. Would you go get Anja a drink? I’ll get my own.”

“You don’t have to, really. I’m all right.” She gave him a thin smile and looked down.

“What do you take me for? I’m her guardian angel, not her date.” He lowered his voice to a snarling whisper.

“Get off your high horse, will you? At least stop being such a wet blanket,” I snapped at him and got up to get them.

At the bar I served two plastic glasses of apple-flavored soda. As I made my way back to the table, Oliver entered the commons.

With Melanie.

Both holding hands.

The whole tuxedo and white Cinderella dress combo.

My jaw dropped to the floor, and I might have spilled the drinks by squeezing the cups if I didn’t stop myself. I turned away before he could spot me and stalked back to our table.

“Here.” I placed the soda before Anja.

“Thanks.”

From the corner of my eye I saw Oliver and Melanie weaving their way in our direction. They must have seen the back of our heads.

“Don’t look, don’t look,” I told Anja between gritted teeth.

As reverse psychology would have it, she glanced over her shoulder. “Ah,” She pursed her lips and looked down at her lap.

“Good evening,” Oliver said. His arm hooked Melanie’s. “Mind if we sit here?” He asked Rick.

“Yeah, man, no problem.” Rick smiled and winked at me. “What a mix, huh?”

I couldn’t help rolling my eyes.

That was it for the conversation. Rick and Amanda only had eyes and words for each other. The five of us sat in awkward silence while the rest of the tables filled up with students drinking soda, making a mess, or chatting loudly. Alan got up and we watched him slide into a chair with his friends a few rows from us. Now us four sat without a peep or squeak. Anja sipped at her drink. The song, Thriller, by Michael Jackson, played at top volume in the background.

“So,” I said, resting my elbow on the table. Melanie looked away from me. “You make a nice couple. What brought you two together?”

“Oh... uh, well. We’ve talked, you know...” Oliver said, stumbling a little. He looked odd without the beanie cap holding together his mop of flaxen hair. “I’ve been helping her get back up on her feet and hit the ground running. So far so good.” He turned to Melanie. “Isn’t that right?”

A coy smile twisted my lips. “So is that, like, a hobby of yours then?”

The raven-haired vampire shuddered and turned away from me, a wince twisting up her face.

Oliver leaned towards her. “Hey, what’s wrong?” And glanced back at me. “She wasn’t like this before. So... wanna go somewhere else, or...?”

Melanie’s voice came meek and muffled at first. “Keep her away from me. Please.”

Oliver’s eyebrows knitted together when he frowned. “Who? Scarlett?” He gave me a chuckling smile while shrugging. “How come?” Then his eyes were drawn wide open and his smile wiped off when it finally dawned on him. “No way. Was it you, Scarlett?”

“Was it me what?”

Oliver snorted, but in an irked way. “You know...” he dropped his voice to a soft whisper. “Sire her?”

“Nooo.”

“How... how could you? Like, seriously?”

“Oh my God,” Anja said, sounding happier than she should have been about the matter. “So that makes you two, like, mother and daughter now?”

“That’s messed up, Anja.” Oliver shook his head.

That caught Melanie’s attention, enough to ward off the fear. “Say what now? What did she do to me?” she asked, though never daring to look up.

Oliver cleared up his throat. “Uh, we’re just... trying to figure out who sired you... who made you a vampire. You catch my drift? We’ve gone over it before.”

“Right.” Melanie turned away from our conversation.

Oliver gave me a look.

“I’m not gonna apologize, that’s all I’m saying about the matter.”

Before he could protest further, his eyes flicked way above me. Then somebody tapped my shoulder. It was Harvey.

“Hey. The dance’s starting,” he said, offering me his burly arm. “Shall we?”

Oliver also got up and offered Melanie his arm to make way for the dance floor. We passed by Alan’s table and I took the chance to jab him in the shoulder. He pivoted sharply while his friends sneered. I stuck out my thumb in Anja’s direction and mouthed, Go, throwing emphasis by arching my eyebrows and baring my fangs, for good measure. He heaved himself out of his chair and went, to my relief.

The dance floor was ample enough for at least fifty odd couples, but just so, because I felt crammed within its confines. The light from the moon disco ball shone over Harvey’s face, and he gave me a blushing smile. His hand fumbled on my hips and the other on my shoulder, and I wanted to push him away despite his good-mannered demeanor. But I didn’t.

He raised his voice over the music. “Hey, sorry about earlier. Demian is chill. I could get him to apologize if you want me to.”

“Nah, that’s fine. So why did he say that? What’s his scrape with Oliver?”

“Nothing, I think. He’s just proud of his heritage.”

“So what? How so?” We swayed in circles to the tune.

“Well... if you don’t already know, devils are uber proud about their lineage. Demian is no different, and I guess he doesn’t really see eye to eye with Oliver on that regard.”

“That still makes little sense. What does he care? Why do they look down on him?”

Harvey gave me an annoyed smile. “I think they mock Oliver because they find him... unsuited for such legacy. Both his House’s and Demian’s leaders are Kings of Inferno. Oliver just... doesn’t fit in,” he said, looking above me at the devil in question, dancing in circles with the black-haired vampiress some distance away.

Kings. That piqued my interest. “What House does he belong to?” Harvey grabbed my hand and gave me a twirl.

“Whose? Demian’s?” He leaned in to my ear and said. “Lucifer.”

Red Star of the Crawling Darkness.

At that moment I happened to glance at our table, just in time to watch Anja, her face all scrunched up with tears, hop from her chair and storm her way out of the commons toward the class hallways.

I stopped Harvey mid-motion. “Excuse me, I’m so sorry, but I gotta go.” Alan had been sitting next to her, now crossing his arms and wearing an annoyed pout on his face. “What was that about? Is it too hard for you to be a decent person for one hour?”

“You think I’m not on the same page as her? Nobody invited me either and of course, I didn’t get to invite anyone else, and you don’t see me complaining.” He shrugged. “Besides, why am I even here? She’s not in danger. I’m wasting my time here. I have a life, too, you know?”

“Mr. Royce said you wanted to ‘ascend in the ranks.’ I don’t understand what that means, exactly. My best guess, you’re obviously aiming for something higher than the lowly ass you are. Clearly, you’ve got nowhere to go but lower.”

“You can’t get lower than a vampire,” he said. “Not even scraping the bottom of the barrel.”

That felt like a twist of the knife, but I didn’t let it show. “At least I try my best to be a better person.”

“Let’s see how long you last before you devolve to your basic form.”

“I’m gonna go get Anja, and you better not draw any more tears, or I shit you not...” I spun on my heels before he could reply and walked at a brisk pace toward the empty hallways, leaving behind the chatter and the blasting music.

The Jack-o’-lantern-shaped sconces were the only source of lighting in the dark hallways, emitting hazy orange light along their length, their mischievous faces smirking on the opposite walls. The music soon became dull echoes, lyrics meshing into meaningless white noise. The doors lining the corridor were all locked, the classrooms inside dead silent and shrouded in pitch blackness, such blackness that even my eyes could barely pierce.

Just as I reached the restrooms, I picked up a scent of iron, causing my mouth to water and my nose to perk up. A bitter breeze of night air caressed my hair and pecked at my skin. The ladies’ restroom was empty, but someone, Anja for sure, had been there recently. My heart gave a jolt when I found the source of the scent—splotches of blood smudged the surface of a sink and crawled down the drain. A few drops stained the floor. One of the stall’s handles was bloody, as its keen edge must have been how the wound was inflicted. I peeked under all of them to find them empty.

Out in the hallway someone had flipped the windowpanes outward—no wonder it was so chilly. The blood rushed out of my face: Anja was gone. I could faintly smell her, and it was fading by the second.

Damn the dance, damned be Alan. I reached down for my phone and realized I forgot my purse at our table. If I went after Anja, fingers crossed, I’d be able to pick up her trail while it was still fresh. Every second counted and heading back for my purse would set me back minutes. It was a gamble.

Knowing the dangers that prowled outside, I slipped out through the window and followed the scent of her blood.

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