Page 43 of The Night Firm

"The child's head was ripped off and his blood drained," Ifi says, continuing. "Mary was then drained of her blood and left for dead."

My eyebrow shoots up at that. "So the killer might have left before she died?"

Sebastian looks at me and gives an imperceptible nod. Oh, did I finally do something to maybe impress him?

"Or the killer watched her die slowly," Elal says. "But the creature who killed her didn't drain her entirely. They left enough so she could bleed out on her own, holding the pieces of her dead child in her arms as she did."

Vomit burns the back of my throat and I swallow it down. This is heinous. "You said 'creature'. So it's not necessarily a vampire?" I ask.

"A vampire would be the most likely culprit, but there are some unusual inconsistencies," Elal says.

"Like what?" Sebastian asks.

"Her blood not being entirely drained, for one. It would take a lot of self-control for a vampire to leave her alive like that," Ifi says. "And the bite wounds were slashed, so it's hard to tell exactly what killed her."

"And what of paternity?" Sebastian asks. "Have you been able to confirm whether the child is Vlad's?"

Elal shakes his head. "That test will take longer, I'm afraid. We will turn those results over to both you and the prosecution as soon as we have them."

Sebastian doesn't look happy about that, but what can he do?

"Were you able to extract her dying wish?" Sebastian asks, as if this is a totally normal and common request.

"Dying wish?" I ask, when it seems clear no one is going to offer an explanation.

"We are Ifrit," Elal says.

"And?" I ask.

Ifi grins and sashays over to me. "Oh darling, you're so new it's almost painful, in a delightful kind of way. We are Ifrits. Genies of the fire. Elal and I have the special gift of discovering the dying wish of the recently deceased."

"What do you do with their wishes?" I ask, imagining the massive problems that could occur if every person's dying wish was granted.

Ifi shrugs. "Usually nothing. Most beings are entirely uncreative and boring. Sometimes we pass it on to the authorities and let them handle things. And sometimes," he says, with a gleam in his eyes, "sometimes, if it's interesting enough, we grant them."

"All legally, of course," Sebastian says gruffly.

"Of course, Mr. Night," Ifi says, moving closer to Sebastian seductively. "Always legal."

Ifi tweaks Sebastian's nose like a schoolboy then laughs and returns to Elal's side.

"All right, enough monkey housing," Elal says. "Show them the wish."

Ifi sighs dramatically. "Fine, fine. Step back a moment. Wouldn't want to hurt anyone. Humans and vampires are so delicate when it comes to fire."

Sebastian stiffens by my side and pulls me back as Ifi bursts into flames.

The fire burns around us, and I sweat profusely, the air hot and heavy in my lungs.

Ifi begins chanting in a language I've never heard. His voice seems powered with magic. It becomes layered with other voices, the vibration of them shaking the room. I clutch Sebastian's arm to avoid falling over, and he braces me as everything rattles. I worry the building will cave in on top of us. I glance at the vampire by my side with frantic eyes, but he looks calm, collected, like this is par for the course.

I take a breath and calm myself. A loud screeching fills the air. Flames dance against the marble walls and ceilings. And then the body of Mary Dracule begins to shake as flames flow into her, animating her from within.

She sits up and turns to us, color filling her cheeks, light and soul filling her eyes. She locks her gaze with mine, a plea on her face as she clutches her dead baby to her chest.

"Save them. Save my babies. Please! Save them!"

And with that, she drops back down to the table with a loud thunk. The fire leaves her body, flowing back into Ifi, who staggers to the side and is in turn caught by Elal. Ifi returns to his more human form and the temperature in the room drops about thirty degrees, though I'm still sweating profusely. I'm dizzy, too, though whether that's from the heat, the fire, or the dead woman coming back to life, I can't rightly say.