The stench of burnt lavender failed to mask the sickly sweet, synthetic chemical odor rising from the hollowed shell on the velvet chair.
Inquisitor Roth leaned down, his armored glove hovering inches over the tiny, blackened puncture mark behind the woman”s left ear. His breath came in tight, furious huffs through his teeth.
"This wasn't a feeding," Roth growled, rising to his full height. His heavy cloak snapped as he turned toward his men. "This is systematic extraction. An unauthorized harvest right in the heart of the noble district."
"Inquisitor," Cattleya interrupted, her voice steady as she sealed the glass slide into a protective velvet-lined case in her satchel. "If this enzyme operates the way the cellular degradation suggests, the tissue liquefaction would have taken less th
