The serpent chomped at the air a second time before dropping back into the water with a splash, red body with black fins disappearing into the murky waters. Darius hadn’t so much as reached for his sword.

“Why didn’t you kill it?” I asked, out of breath and climbing to my feet.

“It protects the waterway. Why kill free labor?”

He had a point.

“Has no one ever looked over these waters before?” I asked.

“Maybe they were drawn to something special in you.” Darius threw me a dark look.

“I sure hope not, because I don’t want one of those as an enemy.”

“It is an enemy confined to the black swamps of Sector Three of the Realm. I hardly think that it is an enemy worth thinking about.”

He had a point. Again.

“Okay, well, your sentinel is missing.” I dusted myself off and adjusted my weapons. “Magic was likely used to disguise any tracks, but it was either done a long time ago or the spell was weak, because it left no lasting effect on the area. Or on the jumping serpents, for that matter. So, we’re left with a few scenarios. Shall I lay them out?”

“That is your job.”

“I still owe you a punch in the mouth for stealing my mark. Know that.” I schooled my annoyance. “The options are as follows.” I ticked off a finger. “Your sentinel is in on it and is now carrying out your enemy’s plans.” I ticked off another finger. “Your sentinel isn’t in on it and is therefore dead. The killer could’ve easily tossed the body into the swamp before wiping away the footprints and, presumably, the black goo vampires leave behind when they die.” I dropped my hand. “Or the sentinel who was supposed to be on duty slept in, or was killed elsewhere, leaving time for someone to clear away the old footprints in order to track our movements.”

“Track our movements?”

“Well…yeah. Hasn’t anyone ever staged a trap for you?”

His brow rumpled.

“Really?” I prodded. “No one has tried to get you to a certain place so they could attempt to kill you? Ever?”

“Once. Which led to this life.”

“I’m not talking about the act of changing you into a vampire.”

“Neither am I.”

I looked at him askew, questions filling my head. We didn’t have time for the detour into his history, though.

“Okay, fine.” I tossed up my hands. “Well, let me assure you, I have plenty of experience with traps. I’m not well liked in the magical criminal circuit. Our prints are the only ones on the path, so there is a real possibility someone is watching us. They know which direction we’ve traveled, and from the spacing of the prints and their depth, they’ll know how fast we’re going and roughly how heavy we are. That is a lot of information for someone who cares.”

“What would they do with that information?”

“Combine it with other information they’ll be gathering. In the past, I’ve had marks watching me to make sure I didn’t get too close to their operations. As soon as I did”—I slapped my hands together like a bear trap—“attacked. Some of them tried to get me before I got them. A few times it was because someone had taken a hit out on me. Once, a stalker wanted me for himself. That guy was whack-a-doo. A human, too. Boy, did he pick the wrong girl.”

“Please.” He did that touching my back and directing me thing.

“Anyway.” We continued along, and this time I paid more attention to my surroundings. “Has the path always been this even?”

“Even, yes. As smooth as a Brink sidewalk, no. I should’ve noticed.”

A while later, I saw another intersection, this time from the south. The circular area in the middle was just as bare as the last one had been. A French word floated on the breeze. Judging by the tone, it was a swear word.

“No vampire covered in a camouflaged sheet?” I asked quietly.

He didn’t answer, but his glower said no.

We made it to the circular area. “Hold my back again, please.”

I felt his fist close around the belt of my leather pouch.

“No, not there.” I tapped his hand upward. “What if the belt breaks free and I fall in? It’s old. Grab clothes.”

“Something is wrong with you.”

“I know. You’ve said.”

He did as instructed.

Hands out, ready to grapple with a serpent launching into the air, I looked around the edges of the circular area. The sides of the path were rocky and pocked with plenty of imperfections. The water gently lapped against the edges, cutting a groove that hadn’t been fixed.

“They’ve only smoothed out the top,” I whispered, not sure why, but my intuition thought it was a good idea.

I made my way around the edge and almost straightened up when something caught my eye. I waved Darius’s hand away before bending for a closer look.

“How is this—”

“Shhhh!” I looked around for a boogeyman.

“How is this different enough for you not to need my help?” he whispered.

“Because I’m crouching near the ground. Trust me, this all makes sense in my head.” Quick as I could, I snatched an item off the surface of the water that had been rolling against the side of the raised area. The water disturbed a fraction of a second before that mouth exploded out of it again, aimed for my face.

“Holy bastard!” I rolled to the side and hopped up as the creature hit the raised area. Calmly, Darius kicked it in the head, sending it back into the water.

“That thing was waiting for me, did you see that?” I pointed at the water, no longer whispering. I let out a breath, backing up until I reached the middle of the circular area. “They’re smart. Thank God they don’t have legs.” Breathing heavily, I sat down with my elbows resting on my knees. I brought up the item and smiled to myself. It had been worth it.

“Recognize this?” I held up the magical casing for Darius to inspect. When he reached for it, though, I pulled it back. “Not so fast. I’m not giving you all the leverage. Steal my mark once, shame on you. Steal my evidence twice, shame on me.”

His eyes fluttered and he shook his head. “This must be another circumstance that only makes sense…”

“Exactly.” I stood and held it up for his inspection, ready for grabby hands.

His gaze roamed the rubber orb before flicking back to me. His eyes, fairly close, were the color of honey, with green specks swimming through. If he didn’t scowl at me so much, I’d remark on how pretty his peepers were. “Not one I recognize.”

“What does that mean in the scheme of things?”

“I oversee the purchase of spells for our entire faction. I often work directly with the most powerful mages, and know the style of the casings my subordinates handle. As you must know, most mages mark their spells in case they fall into another’s hands—”

“You mean, in case someone steals them.”

“I find it strange that that casing is not marked. It has a certain style, yes, but nothing more.”

“What kind of an idiot would mark a casing they planned to use against a vampire? Do you hear yourself?”

Anger flashed in his eyes. “Most mages buy casings in bulk. They order them with their markings. If they didn’t think the evidence would be found, since not many people dangle their heads above large serpents, they would have no need to prepare specialized spells and casings.”

I sighed, because even though I should’ve expected an argument like this, it was still tiresome. “I’ll just leave you with this: there are a great many mages in the world, and most of them don’t have the money to buy individualized anything. They certainly don’t have the money to buy in bulk.”

“It seems we travel in different magical circles—”

“What gave you that idea, Mr. Golden Chair?”

“—but we can agree that finding the user or maker of that casing is a start.”

All that build-up to a simple, logical conclusion. It would be a long case.

I cleared my mind and felt along the smooth rubber. “Do your people ever buy or steal spells without your knowledge?” I dug another empty casing out of my pouch and compared the two. The one I’d just found was larger and sturdier, with thicker rubber and a glossier exterior. That indicated a more volatile spell, which I relayed to him.