Page 30 of Grave Beginnings

Wade appeared at our side, his friend with him, lean and a bit pale. Was he a vampire, too? “Did we miss any prints?” he asked,pointing to a new set of marks next to the still-glowing handprints.

“You can see them?” I asked.

“With this.” The other man held up a scanner of some sort. “Specializes in plasma signatures. It took some tuning to get it lined up, but this change will be useful.”

“This is Bobby,” Wade said. “Our equipment genius.”

I looked around, and all the prints were highlighted. “There were some by the bathroom, and the stock area. Oh, and outside, by the trash bin.”

“On it,” Wade said. Bobby followed close behind. Victor crouched by the body.

“Can we move it now?” he asked, sounding annoyed that he had to ask.

Angel chuffed at my side. I glanced down at him, but he was focused on Victor. Were they doing the mind-to-mind thing? I didn’t really want to think about the sharing blood thing.

“I’m not seeing anything else I need,” I answered, uncertain if they cared what I thought. “Until we get the ME report. I may have more questions then.”

Victor nodded, and his team began bagging up the body. I must have gone nose-blind shortly after entering, ‘cause I didn’t smell much other than blood until they moved him, then I gagged and walked away. “And your nose is better than mine, right? Gross. So gross. The smell is the worst part of dead bodies.”

Wade reappeared. “Did you walk the whole place?”

“No. I was following a child’s giggle.”

He stared down at me, head tilted as if surprised by my admission. “You heard something and got visuals? Anything else?”

“I chased a kid outside. Thought it was one of the zombies I encountered at the daycare before I was hospitalized, but couldn’t get close enough. It was fast, and then I ended up on the other side of the Veil.”

“Zombies aren’t that fast,” Bobby muttered, frowning as he made his way toward the back again. “Out through the back door, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Take a walk around. Let me know if we missed anything else. Don’t leave the building,” Wade said. His gaze landed on Angel. “Stick with him. Your nose beats mine any day.”

“Do I have to worry that I smell?” I asked as I headed toward the opposite wall, planning to walk aisle by aisle. Having Angel pressed to my side kept me from unraveling into the mother of all panic attacks.

“Everyone has a distinct smell,” Wade offered.

“That wasn’t exactly a rousing endorsement for the strength of my deodorant,” I grumbled, searching the shelves for anything unusual. “Don’t suppose you have any ibuprofen? I left my kit in my locker. My head is pounding.”

Wade stripped off his gloves and dug a couple of packets out of his pocket. I’d never been so grateful to dry swallow a few pills. He waved away my thanks and pointed at Angel, who chuffed and nudged me toward the furthest set of shelves.

11

“So, the kid wasn’t a zombie?”

Angel chuffed, and I wondered if he’d caught their scent too.

“It moved fast. Sounded like a little girl. The one I met the day my life went belly-up had blond curls. This one had a ponytail, I think.” Then there was the black-eyed kid who turned into something else. And that cackle would haunt me for a long time.

We wandered the left side of the store, books strewn and out of place in a handful of areas, patrons having left in a hurry rather than ghosts or whatever the fuck that kid had been. “Let’s head to the other side and do the same thing. I’m not finding anything. What about you?” I pointed to my nose. “Does your sniffer pinpoint NHVs?”

He chuffed.

“Chuff once for yes, twice for no.”

He snorted.

“Okay, is there a manual for kitty speak?”