Chapter Fourteen
Sylvie
Miskolc, Hungary
The life of a bloodwalker is never easy.
As your family grows, you may find
your responsibilities conflict.
Tend to your own home and hearth first.
Husbands anger easily.
The dead are patient.
~ The Bloodwalker’s Book
Sylvie squatted on the bathroom floor, raised the meat cleaver, and whacked the tail off a dead rat. That was the last one. She needed three tails to braid into a harmony charm. A small one—easy to hide in the shadows above the bed.
She tossed the three rat corpses out the window, and they landed with thumps in the overgrown garden two floors below. It hadn’t taken long to find the decaying rat bodies in the tangled weeds. They were everywhere in this city.
It would have been nice to slow boil one, peel off the skin and fur
