Chapter Twenty
Sylvie
Debrecen, Hungary
Keep an eye out for suspicious deaths.
Bruises on the neck and red eyes when
the person supposedly died in their sleep.
The narrow slit of a knife wound when
the person supposedly fell down the stairs.
We do not judge. That is for God.
But we must report it.
~ The Bloodwalker’s Book
“Hé! Felkelni!”
The harsh words broke through Sylvie’s dream—a lovely one where she’d been sipping tea in her home’s cozy kitchen. It took a few seconds to process where she was, but the ugly surroundings and the uglier smell brought it back quickly enough.
Silhouetted in the door of her cell was a guard. Behind him, an orange sunset battled its way through the dusty windows of the hall. He wasn’t the fat walrus-faced one of yesterday. This one was lean and c
