Kaelen Thorne's message burned on my screen, taunting me. "He didn't do it. Find the truth. - K." Short. Cocky. Just what you'd expect from a vampire who's ruled the city like his own empire for centuries. But could it be true?
My instincts, usually sharp in Seattle's dark supernatural world, stayed quiet. Kaelen had a reason. Julian was a constant problem, a shame to his name. Killing him, even in a brutal way, fit an Alpha keeping his grip tight.
But those symbols... They felt off. They grated on my magic like a knife on stone. And Kaelen reaching out, even in a sneaky way? That wasn't like him. He gave orders, not hints. Unless he was in deep trouble. Or playing a bigger game.
Damn it. Either way, I was stuck in this. Jones needed answers the police couldn't dig up. The Fae would probably start poking around soon, if they hadn't already, with how ancient those markings felt. And now Kaelen, the main suspect, was tugging at my leash.
The only way forward was the symbols. They were the core of this tangle. If I could figure out what they meant, the rest might fall into place.
There was just one person in Seattle who might know about weird, dark magic. Silas Blackwood.
I pulled on boots that were still a bit wet and slipped into my leather jacket, heading downstairs. The rain kept pounding outside, hammering the pavement beyond the bookstore under my office. Streetlights glowed dimly through the downpour, turning Pioneer Square's familiar alleys into creepy shadows.
"The Raven's Eye" sat hidden, wedged between a shut-down pub and a pawn shop. Its sign, a fancy raven with a key, was hard to see in the dark. I pushed the heavy oak door open, a tiny old bell jingling as I stepped into the messy chaos inside.
Silas's shop smelled of dust, old books, and a faint herbal scent. Books were everywhere, stacked to the ceiling, overflowing shelves, piled on tables, ready to tumble down. Strange objects hid in corners, a broken gargoyle here, a worn tarot deck there. It was a mess, but a magical one.
Silas appeared from behind a shaky stack of leather books. He was small, like a bird, with sharp eyes behind thick glasses and clothes that looked stolen from an old professor. A soft glow of protective magic hummed around him, hard to spot unless you knew what to look for.
"Elara Vance," he chirped, his voice dry as old paper. "Braving the rain for answers, huh? Or just running from the ugly news at the pier?" Bad news spread fast in our world, especially when it involved big names like the Thornes.
"Both," I said, pulling out my wallet. Silas didn't give info for free. Knowledge was his trade, and he set the price. "I need help with some symbols. It's urgent."
I showed him the photos on my phone, zooming in on the carvings on Julian's chest.
Silas stared at the screen, adjusting his glasses. He made a quiet humming sound. "Ugly stuff. Really ugly. Not the usual vampire marks, is it?"
"Doesn't feel like it," I replied, keeping my voice steady.
He looked up, his sharp eyes locking with mine. "This kind of info isn't cheap, Elara. Especially if it points at people who don't want to be seen."
"How much?"
"Five hundred," he said without blinking. "Cash. My sources for this kind of thing are quiet. And pricey."
I counted out the money. Expensive, but I had no choice. Silas took it with a pleased nod.
"Okay," he said, looking at the phone again. "These are old. Very old Fae. Blood ritual marks, to be exact. Used for binding spirits, or worse, draining life to power other things."
Fae? Not vampire? My thoughts spun. "I thought Fae magic was prettier. Illusions and nature tricks."
Silas let out a dry laugh. "The Seelie Court wants you to think that. Unseelie go darker. But this? It's older than the modern Courts. This is ancient Fae magic. Wild, risky, and banned for centuries. Using these symbols is like waving a flag that says you ignore all Fae rules."
"Forbidden Fae blood magic to kill a vampire," I muttered. "Why?"
"That's the five-hundred-dollar puzzle you still need to solve," Silas said, pushing his glasses up. "But I'll tell you this, there have been rumors. More Fae around the city, seen in odd places. Quietly, though. This started before Julian Thorne was killed."
So, the Fae envoy Jones mentioned might not just be here for Julian. They could already be tied to this. Or maybe the killer was Fae, breaking their own laws.
"Anything more?" I asked.
"Just a heads-up," Silas said, his usual cold tone softening a bit. "Digging into banned Fae rituals is like kicking a sleeping beast, Elara. These aren't cute fairy tales. The beings linked to this magic are old, strong, and hold grudges forever. Watch your step."
"I always do," I lied, pocketing my phone. "Thanks, Silas."
"Stay dry," he said, already turning back to his books.
Stepping out into the endless Seattle rain felt like diving into ice water. The alley was pitch black, the only light coming from Silas's dusty window. I pulled my collar up, the cold biting deeper now. It wasn't just the rain.
Silas's warning stuck with me. Forbidden Fae magic. Fae activity already in play. Kaelen's denial.
As I turned toward the main street, something moved in the deep shadows across from the bookstore. Not a rat, not just the rain messing with my eyes.
It was a figure. Tall, eerily still, almost part of the wet darkness between the dumpsters. For a heartbeat, our gazes locked, or I felt an intense, unblinking stare. No face, just a sense of sharp focus.
Then, in a smooth, impossible flash, the figure faded, blending into the rain like it melted away.
My heart pounded hard. A rush of adrenaline hit me, cold and sharp. I stepped forward, my hand reaching for the silver knife strapped to my thigh, but the alley was empty. Just dripping pipes and overflowing trash.
I wasn't seeing things. Silas's warning wasn't just talk.
Someone was watching me.
Someone knew I was searching. Someone tied to Fae blood magic didn't want me finding the truth.
And I had a bad feeling this was only the start.
