Chapter Twenty-One

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 It took a moment for Booker's word to register in Trinket's head. When they finally did, she leapt to her feet. "You lost the snake? In the house?"

Daphne's eyes went wide, and she scurried onto the settee, looking down at the floor anxiously as she clutched the wet rag in her hands.

"Booker, how could you let this happen?" Trinket went on, all thoughts of the Mice and the bloody girl and Tory vanished from her mind.

Holding his hands up as he approached, Booker calmly reassured her, "It's fine, it's fine. We'll find it. I mean, it couldn't have gone far."

"This is an incredibly deadly snake, Booker. Two people have died from its venom despite your attempts to heal them. If it gets outside, not only will we have a man-made vampire stalking the streets, we'll have a very dangerous snake, as well."

"At least it already ate. Maybe it'll just curl up and hide or something."

She clutched at her hair, momentarily forgetting about her head wound. She released a sharp cry as pain coursed through her body.

Booker took hold of her arm and led her to the armchair. "Before we do anything, we need to take care of that cut."

She reluctantly sat down and let him examine her head. "How did it even get out of the jar?"

"I don't know, maybe I didn't tighten the lid enough in my rush to leave earlier. All I know is that when I went downstairs to get my bag, the jar was on the floor but the snake was nowhere to be seen."

Letting out a groan, she covered her eyes with her hands. "We need to catch it. Now."

"I know, I know. Just let me take care of your head. How did this happen again?"

"I was being chased by the Mice."

Something clattered to the floor, and she turned to find Booker stooping down to retrieve the bottle of alcohol he had dropped. As he stood back up, she could see the panic in his eyes.

"The Mice? Why were they chasing you?" he asked as he resumed cleaning the wound.

She shrugged. "I'm assuming Scales sent them after me, seeing as he interrogated me on my way to the station."

It sounded like he was fumbling with the bottle again, but this time he didn't drop it. "Scales?"

"Yes, he grabbed me just outside the station and threatened to take me back to his office if I didn't talk. Do you need me to hold that for you?"

For a third time, Booker had lost his grip on the alcohol. He chased after it as it rolled towards the fireplace, leaving a trail of liquid in its wake. Trinket exchanged a look with Daphne who was now sitting on the back of the settee.

"What did he want to know?" Booker asked, placing the bottle on the table and retrieving a piece of gauze.

"He assumes I know something about the vampire. He saw me going after that girl from before."

He held her head steady as he firmly pressed the gauze against the wound. "What girl?"

"Remember? The girl I saw at the scene of the old man's death? The one who had blood around her wrist and looked more terrified than anyone else in the crowd? She was there today, and something about her made me think she might be involved with the vampire. That's why I told you to go on without me. I wanted to try to catch up with her, but I only managed to find where she lived. And then—"

She stopped short.

Tory.

Booker really needed to know about her. And yet something inside kept her from telling him. She knew this was important information, but she just couldn't seem to give it up. Perhaps she needed to find Tory and talk to her first. Maybe she was wrong. Tory might not be the vampire at all. If Trinket told Booker about her now, she may get Tory wrapped up in something that she had nothing to do with.

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