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aren’t just magic. Doctors can do wonderful things these days. You should see one. You are a creepy, crazy dove right now. Get help. Or you’ll end up in prison.”
     
    * * * * * * * *
     
    “Whacked?” Emily asked looking at the old-young lady. Emily didn’t really need the answer. Not when Ingrid looked as if someone had walked over her grave.
    “That’s one crazy dove,” she told Emily. Ingrid shivered and rubbed her arms as if trying to get the feel of the chick’s aura off.
    “Yeah, clearly,” Emily said. “I ruled out the young couple and the old couple. I assume that the crazy one didn’t do it based on the fact that you’re scanning for another victim?”
    “ Don’t meet her in a dark alley, my best dove,” Ingrid said. “But she didn’t kill this one.”
    “So…” Emily turned in a circle. “Do you see how the vampire disappeared? I wasn’t sure there really were vampires. How old do you think he is? Do you think they really drink blood? Even with potion stuff in it, that’s gross. How are they made? I have so many questions. I want to truth serum him, but you have to wonder…does truth serum work on vampires?”
    “What I want to know,” Ingrid said as her phone rang again, “Is what he eats and does he sparkle in the sun?”
    “You know you liked those books,” Emily said. “Don’t mock.”
    “They give good angst,” Ingrid replied with the same answer she had given every single time. Her phone rang again, and she said, “I have to answer this. Be right back.”
    Emily assumed that Ingrid would be getting in trouble shortly with Gabe or at least long-distance worried over. It was sort of adorable. Emily wondered if she should text her sort-of-boyfriend and see if he could get them out of this.
    Emily scanned again for the hot vampire, but he was gone. That made her feel like he was probably the killer, and the Presidium folks should get their head out of their dank little room and come and figure that out. Hopefully before Ingrid went hangry-crazy and started making herself look more and more like the killer. Emily didn’t want to slap her friend into unconsciousness—at least very much—but Emily would do what was necessary to get them out of this.
    It was time, Emily realized, to stop avoiding the wife crying in the corner and put on her sympathetic face. Maybe she could dredge up the one she’d used for Ingrid when her a-hole of a husband had died.
     
    * * * * * * * *
     
    “Hey,” Ingrid said as she answered Gabe’s fourth call.
    “Are you all right?” He demanded. His worry and the love she felt through it hit her right in the center of her chest.
    “Yes,” she said, glancing around. “They’re keeping us here while they get a handle on things, I guess.”
    “Here, where?”
    “We were touring a convent where some poor witch nun was murdered.”
    “Did the ghost do it?”
    “Oh, I don’t think so. But she is creeping me out right now. She’s all bloody-eyed and wailing. Thank goodness I am not a necromancer. I bet those doves could hear the crying.”
    The sound of his voice made her feel better. He made her feel all warm and loved. There was nothing she wanted more than to return to her hotel room and find him in that massive bed. But he wouldn’t be there. And Emily had talked Ingrid into Paris at least.
    “I miss you,” she said, and it was true. And it didn’t freak her out to say it. And she didn’t want to be a flighty dove who took off for places unknown and avoided him. She wanted to go home. Home to him. On the island or in Prague, or Paris or even…Pittsburgh.
    Holy Mary Mother of Pearl, she thought, I am drowning in love.

Chapter 5
     
     
    Emily crossed the room once and then twice as if she were just stretching her legs looking for the hot vampire. He was nowhere to be found. Should she feel guilty for thinking he was attractive when she had something with Dean?
    No, she decided. Definitely not.
    She had eyes. Dean wasn’t here. They