The Vampire of Tinkerfall (Elysium #3)

Chapter Twenty-Five

 Booker hurried through the muddy streets of the city center, heading towards the apartment building where Trinket had seen the girl she believed was connected to the vampire. The crazed look of determination in his eyes truly worried her, but there was no stopping him when he was in such a state. All she could do was hope that they found this girl sooner rather than later.

"Do you recall what she looked like?" Booker asked as the apartment building came into sight.

"I do, but honestly, there was nothing outstanding about her. She was completely ordinary."

"Anything. Anything at all to identify her."

She thought for a moment. "She had ash-colored hair. And was small, though not unusually small. I'd recognize her if I saw her, but I can't give a helpful description."

They arrived in front of the apartment building and stood before the door as shoppers and cabs trudged through the street behind them. It was an old, worn door, the number on it faded and practically unreadable.

"How many rooms do you think there are?" Trinket asked.

Booker shrugged. "Three floors, five or six to each, so maybe upwards of eighteen?"

"Not too many. We could just knock on each one."

He pushed the door open with some effort. The hinge creaked in protest, the door only opening halfway. They slipped inside and closed it behind them.

"Start at the beginning?" she asked.

"No, the top. That way, if we irritate someone enough that they give chase, no one down below will be aware of our intrusion, making it less likely that they will impede our escape."

She shook her head disapprovingly as they climbed the rotted staircase. "I don't know if I should be impressed or concerned."

"Both is good."

Upon reaching the third floor, Booker approached the door furthest from the stairs and gave a hearty knock. A tearful wail came from the other side, accompanied by cursing and heavy footsteps. The door was thrown open by an angry middle-aged woman with dark bags under her eyes and a crying baby in her arms.

"What?" the woman barked.

Booker fell back a step and blinked. "Ah, so sorry for the intrusion, madam, but we were looking for someone. A young girl, actually."

Giving a sharp laugh, the woman replied, "I haven't been young in quite a few years, little mister. Now, if you don't mind, I have a colicky young'un to deal with."

Not even waiting for a response, she slammed the door in their faces.

"Well, we're off to a good start," Trinket mumbled.

The overworked mother was the only person they found on the third floor, although they did hear some incomprehensible slurring behind another door, accompanied by the sound of shattering glass. The second floor turned out to be a bit more successful. They met a foreigner who couldn't understand a word they were saying but kept offering to have them inside. They politely declined the invitation and moved on to a room with at least eight people inside. The group was rather jumpy and not much for conversation. When asked about a young girl with ash-colored hair, they just kept shaking their heads until Booker gave up and tried the next door.

"I have to say, I think we're doing very well," Trinket said. "No death threats as of yet."

"Always look on the bright side, right?" Booker said, knocking on the door in front of them.

A muffled curse, followed by slow, shuffling footsteps. Someone fiddled with the lock, swearing loudly until the door creaked open. A large man stood before them, bald and grimy. His eyes were blurry, as though he had just woken up, and by the smell of his breath as he heaved a heavy sigh, he had likely been in an alcohol-induced sleep.