Who's to judge?

Chapter VIII

Stunned was an understatement. They both looked at me in shock. The redhead was the first to speak, "How did you find out? Are you sure?" I wasn't sure, but it sounded like it fit the condition of the bodies.

"I was attacked and bitten by a fullblood. The doctor who bandaged me said I was very close to death because a bite from one vampire, to another vampire, can be fatal." I sat back a bit and waited for their reactions.

Kalma frowned in confusion, but the mixed looked thoughtful.

"I'm not one hundred percent sure about this, though." I added quickly. Silence fell over us, as if my words had rendered them speechless. The mixed thought for a long time, then said, "There are no bite marks, though." He was right about that, but vampires had fast healing powers. What killed them was the blood, not the wound.

"We need to check if there are remains of the blood in the body of the corpse, thus we can be sure that was the cause of death." I explained to both of them. The mixed stood up and walked to the window without a word. As he swung his leg over the edge of the window, Kalma suddenly jumped to his feet.

His face was pale as he whispered frantically, "I hear the boss's car parked."

Panic broke out in both men. The mixed stumbled back into the room and fell on his butt. Kalma wanted to run out, stopped when he saw me barely moving from the spot. He didn't know what to do, then twitched and whispered nervously, "He's coming in."

The mixed was completely frozen. He sat on the floor, barely moving. I patted the seat next to me and called Kalma over to me. With shaky legs, he sat down next to me.

"Mixed, come here." I called the redhead, who slowly got up and sat down in front of me. My eyes closed, as I waited. The bitter smell came closer until I heard his footsteps. Then we heard his voice.

"What in the world is going on?"

Kalma winced beside me, the mixed in front of me began to sweat profusely, I remained calm. "What are you doing here so late at night, boss?" I asked him as I turned to face him. He was wearing gray sweatpants that looked like they were very old, a loose black shirt, and a pair of used sports shoes.

He scratched the back of his neck but said nothing. I and Kalma looked at him in confusion, but the mixed was barely breathing.

The devil frowned and said a little irritated, "What the hell are you doing out here? Why aren't you in your cells?" Knowing he was going to say something like that, I had already prepared myself for a whole conversation. I sighed and stood up.

"This is your fault, sir. You never gave us orders to stay in our cells at night, we may not be human, but we don't have psychic powers. And if you really wanted us to, you would have made sure they locked our cells before you all went back to your cozy homes." I then tilted my head to the side and watched with relish as the crease on his forehead deepened.

He couldn't say anything to that, because he knew I was right, and he hated being wrong. Instead, he found something else to get angry at: the mixed. He pointed at him irritably and said, "Who is that? I don't think we allow visitors here."

Humans are so predictable.

"As far as I know, this is a police station designed to help people in need, so the doors are open to everyone."

He was seething, but didn't say anything more, which meant to me that I had won, and it felt good. But I didn't want to be too mean to him; after all, I was still alive thanks to him.

I walked up to him and asked, "What brings you to us at such a late hour? Did you forget something? Was there perhaps an emergency?" My tone was more serious now and I tried to show him that I didn't want to argue with him anymore. He understood and replied in his normal, emotionless voice, "I wanted to see how your shoulder was doing. Do you feel any pain?"