Vampires Dead Ahead by Cheyenne McCray

golden seashell didn’t gleam.
    With every step I took my heart beat faster and my throat grew drier. Something was wrong. I knew it with everything I had. Something was really wrong.
    Another fog-shrouded wall led toward his den. The normally chilly air was almost freezing as I stepped through the fog to the landing atop a staircase. I walked down the steps to his den, my shoes soundless on the stone.
    Rodán’s den wasn’t exceptionally large, much smaller than the bedchamber above and smaller even than my bedroom. Rows of heavy books and rolls of parchment lined the earthen walls, and wisteria climbed across the otherwise bare places.
    All the wood, including Rodán’s desk, had been commissioned from the Dryads. They didn’t give anything up without a price, but this time I didn’t wonder what Rodán might have paid.
    The desktop was spotless as usual. It didn’t look like anything was out of place in the den.
    I clung to my purse as I stood in the center of the still, lifeless room.
    Hair prickled at my nape, as if someone was watching me. I spun around then placed my hand over my pounding heart when I saw nothing.
    How could everything be so awfully quiet?
    The feeling of being watched didn’t pass. Dread built up in me like a living thing. Like black snakes sliding through my abdomen and pausing to squirm just enough to make me want to throw up. Why was I having such an extreme reaction? Rodán hadn’t even been missing for a full day yet.
    I hoped he was with the Great Guardian. I’d have to kill him for scaring me, but I could live with that. At least then I’d know what happened to him.
    Okay. I had to calm down. Look at things logically and not jump to conclusions. I needed to treat this like any missing person case.
    I made my way back upstairs, trying to shake the eerie feeling that his empty chambers gave me.
    I had to find out who had last seen Rodán.
    “Fred.” I reached the Doppler bouncer as he was letting a trio of Pixies into the club. It was way early, but Pixies like to party long and hard.
    “Did Rodán show for your appointment?” Fred asked, his puppy-dog eyes looking big and worried.
    I shook my head. “When was the last time you saw him?”
    Fred’s forehead wrinkled and he looked deep in thought. “Just after the Tracker meeting, around ten. He was talking to Angel. Then he went toward his chambers and she went out the front.”
    “Thanks.” I offered him a smile because he looked so worried. “It’ll be okay. We’ll find him.”
    Fred gave a nod and tried a smile himself. “I know you will,” he said despite the concern in his big brown eyes.
    I patted him on the arm then left to see who else I could question.
    Two waitresses and a barman later, I had as much information as before. Nothing more than vague recollections of Rodán in the nightclub through one AM. At least I had that much to go on.
    I needed to use the facilities, but when I went into the restroom designated for females, I ran into Kathy, one of the Shifter cleaners who helped keep the Pit in order. I asked her if she’d seen Rodán last night.
    “Backstage,” Kathy said with certainty in her voice. “He watched from there until the band quit for the night, around one thirty in the morning.”
    My heart began to race a little. “Did you see him leave with anyone?”
    Kathy leaned on her mop. “Those trampy Nymphs who sing backup for that awful band.”
    The same two Rodán and I had seen at dinner not long ago. Maybe he’d decided to take them up on the invitation they’d extended.
    “Trixie and Bubbles,” I said.
    “Tramps.” Kathy rolled her eyes. “The three of them left together. Arm in arm.”
    I thanked Kathy, went back out into the club, and dug my phone out of my purse.
    When I reached Olivia I said, “Can you track down two Nymph backup singers for Festival? I only know them by the names Trixie and Bubbles.”
    Olivia choked with laughter. “You have got to be kidding me. Stage names,