A gnawing doubt creeps over me as I drive to Shadowfield.

The removal of the heart is an intimate gesture, possibly even ritualistic. The woman likely didn't have time to react, judging by the fact that no one even heard her scream. The attack does not make mathematical sense. Among the many things that do not add up, at the center is the fact that no one saw anything.

I pull over briefly to send Aria an ignis detailing the events of the day. She would want to know that this town is descending into utter chaos.

When I arrive at Shadowfield, I am greeted by an elderly man with vibrant blue eyes. He is obviously the butler, dressed in a three-piece suit. His full head of white hair is slicked backwards.

He introduces himself as Nigel.

Nigel doesn't question who I am or why I have shown up on their doorstep. He leads me to the sitting room and asks me to wait while he fetches Master Archer.

His disappearance leaves me enough time to snoop around. Aside from antique baubles, I find a table full of photographs.

My eyes bounce from one photograph to another. Each photograph shows a distinctly different group of people. The Coven's past and present. I find one with three men. Archer is one of the men along with a clean-cut young man with piercing cerulean eyes and a man with the same blonde hair as both other men. His eyes are a deeper shade of blue than the others. His hair is also a bit messier than the other two.

The resemblance is uncanny.

The eyes, the necklace, and the questionably mischievous blue eyes confirm it.

"Who are you?"

I haven't noticed a man appear at the door. The tall man stares at me questioningly with eyes so dark they look black from across the room. His bald head reflects the light of his dark skin.

His goatee and eyebrows are the only sources of hair on his face.

"Parker."

"Parker? Oh yeah, Archer said you might stop by." He says. "Nathan. Nate for short."

Nate seems like a nice guy from the offset. I question if he lives here, too. Covens usually inhabit the same place, usually a manor or a mansion, but I thought Archer lived alone here.

Then again, I didn't know he has brothers.

"What brings you to Shadowfield?" Nate asks.

"There was a murder. On Main Street and—"

"You suspect our coven?"

"Doesn't sound like it surprises you too much."

Nate laughs. "Things like that happen in Prophecy a lot. It's a supernatural hotspot."

"I've noticed. So, women get their hearts ripped out in the light of day all the time around here?" I ask.

Nate is stuck. He is speechless as I explain what happened at the market. I show him pictures of the woman and the necklace. He identifies the woman as Misha Antonov, a coven-less witch known by the covens in Prophecy.

He also identifies the Evil Eye.

"Interesting." Archer says.

Archer snuck up on us. He peers over our shoulders at the photos. Nate dismisses himself and disappears deeper into the mansion. Archer finishes buttoning his blue button-up in a mirror over the fireplace opposite the table of pictures before turning to me with a smile.

"I'm happy to see you. But I suspect you came here about something else." Archer says.

"It's not purely a social call. I came to ask about the local covens."

"If you're asking based on those pictures, I think you're barking up the wrong broomstick." Archer says. "Ripping a heart out is a bit more primal than witches around here are used to. From a medical standpoint, it looks like a hand burst through her chest. And did they find the heart?"

It never occurred to me to ask if they found the heart. I don't remember Diego or Eric mentioning the heart. If there is no heart at the site of the crime, it could mean many things.

"I'd guess it was taken. Or eaten."

"Eaten? Like by a werewolf?" I ask.

"Or vampire. The central pumping station of blood would be delicious to a vampire. It would make sense since the wound is smaller than a claw. You remember what a werewolf looks like."

"What about an unshifted werewolf?"

"They're fast but not that fast. They would have had to be cloaked. And you and I both know werewolves aren't fond of witches."

Archer is right. Werewolves and witches have shaky alliances at best. Werewolves are highly distrustful of most other races, not excluding vampires and witches. Vampires might be their sworn enemy but witches aren't that far from being on their eternal shitlist.

"So, you think it's a vampire? Working with a witch?" I ask.

"Could be. I don't know. I'm just speculating."

"Thanks for your expertise, Dr. Tereso."

"Any time." He smiles.

I turn to leave but he reaches out and gently grabs my wrist. He turns me to towards him and pulls my face into his. It's a more urgent kiss than the last one, as if he couldn't wait to do it.

Five seconds pass before his lips part from mine. His lips curl into a smile and mine follow.

"I've been wanting to do that for days." He says. "You can stay. We could find something to do."

"If you haven't noticed, this place is going up in flames. I doubt the Council would be forgiving if I don't figure out at least the demon." I say.

"I offer the archives."

"I bet you do. A dark place where no one can hear me scream. I'll keep that in mind."

Archer laughs as I leave the room. The last thing I need is to be distracted from all the supernatural nonsense going on in this town.

I can't decide if my priority is the demon abducting people and feeding off their fear or the alleged vampire ripping hearts out.