It didn’t matter how many times I told myself he would be fine, I couldn’t shake the anger. I managed to find a nest of vampires to take at least some of it out on. The nice thing about vampires was you could hit them without guilt.

Unfortunately, they also tended to avoid the city these days. I’d killed enough to scare the others off. The ones I found were clueless.

Not even a workout. And, of course, there were all kinds of investigations going on. I couldn’t exactly tell them they’d never catch the guy who stabbed Mike. I think they knew, though.

I think they knew they were going through the motions in that special way you did for cops. I couldn’t go through the motions.

Revenge? It was on my mind, but more on my mind was making sure they didn’t do it again. That’s what he would be more concerned with.

Protecting people. I hadn’t taken anyone with me. I walked back to my apartment in the dark and cold. There was still no sign of spring in the air, as if the warmer weather earlier had been part of our spring transposed into winter.

Maybe it had been.

Maybe the weird weather patterns really were the opening blows of Ragnarok. I shivered, pulled my jacket around myself.

Stop it.

Delay it.

Cause it.

I still didn’t have the exact words of the prophecy. I only knew what I didn’t want to do, what I was fighting against. What I would die permanently to prevent.

Maybe I was still seeing things too short sighted. Too focused on physical reality. On the physical reality in which one of my closest friends was dead.

On the physical reality in which I couldn’t really trust the cops any more. Which was an unfair thing to think of.
Then again, they saw me as Mike’s daughter. I didn’t see him as my father, but there was that connection.

The sympathy. The odd appreciation for the fact that they knew I was there, that they knew I’d tried to stop it. Not the truth, but they knew that much. I valued that. But I’d rather have the knowledge that he was just the other end of a phone call.

I hadn’t seen Thruor since the funeral either. Maybe I wouldn’t. Unlike me, she could cross the bridge any time she wanted. Unlike me…

…and I realized I was feeling sorry for myself. Which meant a better thing to do was to head home, eat some chocolate, and go to bed. Get some sleep. See if things looked better in the morning. I knew they wouldn’t, but I also knew I couldn’t stay in this funk forever.

Not with that succubus still in town.