Thimina's apartment was ordinary in every way, not lavishly decorated or furnished. She lived alone and had no lovers as far as anyone knew. Her body was sprawled half on her bed and half off, dried blood between her firm ass cheeks and on her thighs. Two small puncture holes were visible on the back of her left shoulder as well as at the bottom of neck where the jugular vein was thickest. Her body was ghostly white in color and looked shriveled beyond anything normal. Anja knelt next to her head, which was face down on the bed, her hips and legs on the floor propped against the bed as if she had been praying.
Anja stood back up and turned to Tarifa, who stood to the side of the bed next to Lynwe. "She's been dead at least six hours." She spoke softly. "And it wasn't quick."
"Thimina was not a weak woman." Tarifa said. "And I have never seen a body like this, drained of all its blood."
