She’d cut Andrej’s head off to ensure his death—no easy feat with nothing but a scalpel and brute strength. It had also made quite the messy splatter, she was glad she’d put the plastic down as a precautionary measure.

It was always best to be extra sure with vampires. So she made a Y incision, peeled back the skin, and cracked open the rib cage so she could pull out his heart. It was shriveled and black, like a giant raisin, and it smelled like it had been dead for a hundred years.

Death confirmed, she began carefully removing the organs, one at a time, gloved fingers slicked with blood. Her fingers slid against the interior flesh of the chest cavity as she hollowed it out, careful and slow.

Nita immersed herself in the calm methodical act of taking a person apart piece by piece, lining up the organs by her side, their smooth surfaces slick with blood. Time lost meaning as she let all her pain at her mother’s betrayal slide away into the perfect serenity of dissection.

When she was done, when the body was all taken apart and packaged up in sealed plastic bags for disposal and there was nothing left to do, she rose and cracked her back, working off the stiffness in her body. Smiling slightly, feeling calmer and more grounded, she went to the bathroom, washed her hands, stepped into the shower, and washed her whole body, the blood rinsing away in a pink pool before disappearing down the drain.

She put on the new clothes she’d prepared, left her hair in a towel as she put her bloody clothes in another sealed bag—more evidence to be disposed of—and went back into the main room.

She pulled out her phone and texted Kovit. All done. You can come up now so we can start disposal.

Then she took one of the bottles of red wine she’d bought, poured about half into the sink, and filled the empty space with blood she’d collected from Andrej. Vampire blood went bad notoriously fast, and alcohol worked as an excellent preservative. People had been mixing blood and wine for centuries. It kept the blood fresh, it was an inconspicuous way to transport it, and it improved the taste.

Nita corked the bottle and swished it around so that it was nice and mixed before she opened the bottle and took a long drink.

A knock on the door made her pause, and she went over and peered through the eyehole, then opened it. Kovit slipped inside, shoulders tight, nervous expression on his face. But when he peered in and saw there was no sign of the body, only bags, he relaxed and smiled.

“Find out what you needed to know?”

“Yes.” Nita took another swig of the blood wine.

Kovit raised an eyebrow. “Is that blood? Are you literally drinking the blood of your enemies now?”