The vamp crept down until its head was level with mine and raised its face. It used to be female during life. Undeath had sharpened already delicate features, making it look like a concentration camp victim.
The bloodsucker stared at me with haunted eyes. It raised a thin hand clutching a small object. Slowly it opened its maw. Its face twitched, trying to twist into a different set of features.
"I believe this is yours." Pulisic's voice said from the vamp's throat.
The vamp's fingers opened and the object fell. I caught it: my throwing dagger. How considerate. He had even cleaned the bloodsucker blood off of it.
"Tell me, Alder," Pulisic said.
"Why do you paint your daggers black?"
"So they don't shine when I throw them."
"Ahh. Obvious, come to think of it." The vamp's throat stank of death.
"Shall we depart?"
"Please."
"What's our destination?"
He knew perfectly well where Greg's apartment was.
They probably kept the bloody place under surveillance.
