After a quick dinner of the grilled chicken special at the Atrium (and only three cups of coffee), they were ready to put Murnau behind them. Rai considered informing Saki, who was in her usual spot, that she wouldn’t have to deal with him and the prissy sidekick anymore, but she was in a worse mood than usual. Her head was down, curtained by a waterfall of oily hair, and he saw her teeth bared. She might have brought on an actual homicide if he got between her and her phone.

He did manage to say goodbye to Vee, who seemed to work the dinner shift. She nodded politely, possibly not remembering who he was. Then Sao, whom she had never met, came over and she burst into lavish thanks until Saki snapped her fingers and threw her at a group of waiting customers.

It was a clear night, not a snowflake in the sky, only a full bright moon. After the unexpectedly balmy afternoon, a lot of the snow had melted, leaving everything shining and slick. The street seemed to be glowing. Rai rubbed his eyes and looked up and saw that it was the lights of the Row, floating over the walls and reflecting on the mirror surface below.

“Marsh asked us to wait here,” Sao said. He looked tired, but content. Rai noticed he’d stopped picking at his coat, though there weren't too many silver threads left.

Marsh called to them when he was about a block away - he was coming from the opposite direction of the school. His hair was a wavy mess and his glasses fogged. He paused in front of them with a gift in his hand, smiling blindly, mostly at Sao. But then, to Rai’s surprise, he shoved the tickets into Rai’s hands.

Train tickets.

“I thought you should ride the train before you left. Or as you leave, such as it is. The rail has been running for over a hundred years now and the carriages are a near-perfect recreation of the sleepers from the 19xxs. I got you a private room. There’s a discount for university staff.”

“That’s very generous,” Sao said, flashing a bemused look at Rai. “I haven’t had the chance to see the inside yet. Sleeper trains, you say?”

“There are some seats that look like your typical trains. But the rooms are like cubicles - they have seats that can fold down into beds…”

Marsh’s pudgy hands motioned how this would work. He couldn’t stop talking about how amazingly historical and significant the preservation of the rail was, and Rai didn’t have the heart to stop him and say he’d had a mediocre ride on it already.

Coming up behind Marsh at her leisure was Skogul, in heeled boots and a trench that clung to every curve. She swung a little shopping bag in tandem with her hips and hair, which she had tied back.

“So you caught the vampire,” she said. Her lips were fittingly the color of blood.

“Just one of them. But I don’t think we’re hanging around to catch any others.” Rai watched all her moving parts settle beside him. “A boy fell in love with one of the girls who had been wronged. He wanted to avenge her. That’s about it. I’m pretty sure he’ll stop what he was doing, but there’s no guarantee we won’t see another crude picture in another few days.”

“Ah. But the idea of the next avenger being right around the corner might hold off some future vampires.” She folded her arms, elegantly, without swinging the bag around. “I’m a little sorry you’re about to leave, we haven’t gotten to talk much. How are you doing?”

Her voice was sweet as honey. Rai gave her a long, neutral look. And smiled, which actually seemed to startle her. “Sao has been running his mouth.”

She laughed. “I hope you won’t hold that against him. He thinks very highly of you. He plays cool, and he’s good at that, but I’ve known him a while. He’s much less straightlaced than he was before. It might sound ironic, but he’s more at ease because he’s fond of you. Or he feels he can let down his hair.” She swirled her own.

“This talk hasn’t been running both ways. I never really got how you two know each other.”

“We met at a part time job when he was at that vocational academy.” Her answer was smooth, but too smooth. “He was in a rough spot. His family hadn’t been good to him. Took advantage of him for years.”

“I heard a little about that.”

“See! He does tell you things.”

She was a natural at the game of misdirection, just like Sao was. Sao told him selected secrets just to shut him up. Did she think he never picked up on it? Rai wondered about her. He wondered if he was going to blow any chances he had with the most gorgeous woman who had ever spared him more than a sentence, to satisfy some indignant curiosity of his.

He watched Sao pretend to favor the Central subway just so he could keep up a lively debate with Marsh. At least Sao had the good grace to use his own secrets to throw others off. Rai soured a little toward her with that thought. And what chance did he ever really have with her, anyhow?

“He told me he didn’t remember those years,” Rai said. “I kind of wonder how he has such a strong reaction to being touched or even being asked about it if he doesn’t remember anything.”

For a moment, her face was in the shade he couldn’t pick up an expression. But when she said quietly, “Did he show you the scars?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you have any scars of your own like that?” Of course he didn’t. Her face slipped half out of the shadow. The look she was giving him was gracious, but still half-masked. Anything could have been going on in the darkened half. “I don’t think he orchestrated a phobia as a silly prank. I don’t think he wants to be pushing people away. But the body remembers even if the mind doesn’t.”

Rai leaned in. “So you saw them too? He was showing the scars around that easily back when he was in training?”

That stopped her. He thought she was going to slap him but instead, she burst out laughing, and lightly nudged his shoulder. Marsh and Sao looked over, but she waved them back to their debate. “This is like trying to shake off a tiger. I can see why he admires you.”

“He doesn’t trust me. And you keep speaking for him without answering me. Why? Did he show you the scars in a more sensitive kind of situation?”

“Do you mean sensual? And no. I think he showed me the scars so I would stop talking about things that might have landed us in a sensual situation to begin with. Could you blame me for trying? Look at him. But he shies away from even a peck on the cheek.”

Rai didn’t want to look at Sao for the moment. He and Skogul had been duped in more or less the same way. Rai’s hands loosened their grip in his pockets. It was all so disappointingly simple.

Skogul said. “Still, take care of him, alright?”

“He’s capable of taking care of himself.”

She smacked her forehead lightly with a palm, but her smile was full and flushed. “Now I’m trying to trust you here, and you won’t pick up on what I’m saying. Maybe…”

She left him hanging there, because Sao and Marsh had finished their talk, and obviously Sao had conceded that old-fashioned trains really were the best. They were both smiling. Skogul placed one hand on Marsh’s shoulder and held the bag aloft. “Your clothes.”

“Oh!” Sao reached for the handle. “I’m sorry for making you hold onto them so long.”

She held it just out of his reach, using Marsh’s stout, beige-coated body as a sort of prop. Rai wondered at her again. If she had a thing for guys like Sao (and he imagined most did) what had brought her into the arms of someone like Marsh? Marsh was intelligent, he seemed to be well-off and was almost too agreeable. He might have been great in bed, but Rai wasn’t getting that impression either.

The couple bubbled with energy as separate units but together seemed subdued, even businesslike. There was no hunger. Marsh didn’t actively try to touch Skogul at all. They didn’t need each other, but they were there for each other anyway. Rai had to consider, maybe that was what true fulfillment looked like.

Skogul, Sao, Ayer, and Rai’s old college girlfriend would probably all agree, he was a piss-poor romantic.

Sensing her game, Sao finally stepped forward to take the bag, and Skogul pulled it back to her side and reached into it. What she pulled out was a familiar yellow flower. “You dropped this last night on the couch.” He was now close enough she could stick it in his buttonhole for him.

Rai smirked and looked away.

And out over the glazed road, leaning on one of the parking meters, he spotted a familiar specter in a long black coat.

“Triad?” Rai hoped the man wouldn’t start another chase. With all the ice they would both end up breaking their necks. Thankfully, Triad did not move until Rai was on his side of the street. His eyes were locked onto something in the distance, above Rai’s head. When Rai was about a foot away his eyes roamed down. He looked completely hollowed out. His eyes, already red from the start, were bloodshot, the irises looking bruised, almost purple. His skin was blue under the moonlight.

“Did you come out here to meet us?” Rai ventured.

“Ayer was arrested,” Triad said. His tongue seemed to be giving him trouble. He swallowed. “He came to security to admit what he’d done.” His eyes suddenly snapped into focus. “You told him to turn himself in, didn’t you?”

As Triad extended his spine to its full height and looked down on him, Rai realized their meeting in the dark office had actually been a blessing. Triad’s eyes staring directly down on him like the beam of a lamppost, blotting out the moon with his thin face and wispy ectoplasmic hair, Rai was paralyzed.

Sao joined them by the parking meters. Triad tilted his head upward and took a step back.

Rai could finally exhale. “Yeah, I told Ayer that Rip accused you of threatening him. He went to help you out.”

“And Rip turned the blame on him.” Triad shuddered violently. “Campus security took him to the station in town. This could ruin his future. I ruined his future. By talking to you. And he was one of the good ones, too. He only acted as he did because he is good. The kind to bring change and… and right wrongs.”

“That’s why you trusted him with your new hospital when you couldn’t be there yourself,” Sao offered.

Triad only shuddered again. “This place is poison. But so was Highland. There was no place he was going to be safe. Poison…” He teetered, feet slipping off the pavement.

“Hey, watch the ice.” Rai grabbed him by the sleeve and found Triad’s arm was overcome with tremors. Which, with his size, made him tough to keep a hold of. “Are you okay?” He watched Triad’s face go slack. Drunk? High? But he didn’t smell like anything but the staleness of his office.

Triad regained his footing and shook Rai off. “Yes. He did the right thing. I wish he didn’t but… he was never one to shy away from challenges.” A ghostly smile spread over his face. Rai was baffled. Sleepwalking?

“But you also tried to do the right thing,” Sao said. “You knew you had to stop him. That’s why you told us–”

“What are you talking about?”

“Earlier today. Maybe you didn’t say it precisely, but when we met, it seemed you knew Ayer had been the one to target Zed and Ace.” Sensing something amiss, Sao began to back away.

“No, I didn’t.” It was the first time they had heard him shout. He had a voice like thunder.

“Okay. Maybe we misread your intent.”

“It never happened.” Triad shivered and wrapped his arms around himself. “I don’t know you.” He began to swivel wildly, left then right as if whipped by wind, his bruised eyes cluelessly moving between Sao and Rai like he really had never met them before, like he was surrounded on all sides by strangers. “Leave me alone. Please.” Without further explanation, Triad took six long fast strides that took him into the nearest alley and out of sight.

—

Their compartment was close to the back of the train. As soon as they were inside, Sao went straight for the window.

“Leave it,” Rai said. “You’re gonna let the heat out.”

Sao unhooked the lock anyway and pushed the pane open. “You opened the window when you left the other night.”

“Yeah, I was in the public section and it smelled like booze and mothballs.” Rai took a seat on the bench. There were two, facing each other, covered in some thick purple velvet that crunched when touched. The cushions had tassels and gold trim. “And you ended up putting on a show I wasn’t going to miss.”

Sao settled on his bench opposite and smiled quizzically, like he didn’t remember running down the length of the station after the train. When Sao had broken into a jog, a lump had risen in Rai’s throat; he was totally sure he had left something crucial behind, forgotten something that Sao had remembered for him only too late. But when Sao stumbled to a halt at the end of the platform laughing and heaving, it was evident he was just having fun.

And not making a facade of it, which was even stranger.

Sao looked out the window. Playing cool. Rai pushed the window up a little further and stuck his head out.

Marsh and Skogul were loitering under the station awning, in some kind of casual conversation. When Skogul saw him, she waved, fanning long her fingers out so the blood-red nails flickered in the light. Marsh followed her gaze and gaped when he saw Rai stuck out the window, even though he had been the one behind the tickets. Rai gave him a thumbs up. Would they run too? In her shoes, with all that ice, he hoped not.

“Triad didn’t seem pleased with today’s outcome,” Sao said softly.

“Yeah. Ayer must have been one of his favorites. But I think Ayer will be alright. He didn’t cause any permanent harm - no more than the rest of the pictures did.” Rai propped his elbow onto the little table under the window. It even had a tablecloth. “Skogul said that the way he acted might have future vampires thinking twice, in case someone hits back.”

“And he did it for love. Imagine that.”

“‘I had a crush’ doesn’t make too solid a defense in courts.” Rai rolled his eyes towards the ceiling. Turquoise and yellow glass on the light fixtures. The sconces on the walls were also stained glass. The wonders would never cease. “But like I said, I doubt things will escalate that far. You could argue I caused more lasting damage than he did when I was in the college dating scene–”

“No.” Sao’s voice was hard, but the soothing little smile didn’t waver. “You’ve got to let that go.”

What could he say to that? “You’re right.”

They sat, looking out the shared window.

The doors of the carriage hissed and pulled closed. The floor began to rumble, and they were off. Skogul and Marsh followed the train for a few moments, but never broke more than a brisk walk.

An attendant with a creaky metal cart came by, the same cart that went through the rest of the train, but it came by the private rooms at the end of the train first. Rai bought three overpriced coffees. He pushed one cup over to Sao’s side of the minature table. “Tired?”

Sao’s fingers toyed with the poppy Skogul had returned to him. “Would you believe me if I said I’m not sure?” He pushed the stem back against his coat and took the coffee with both hands. “But I will take this, thank you. I meant to ask, if I may, what were you and Skogul talking about so intently, before we left?”

“You may.” Rai sat back and uncovered his cup. “Because she was telling me a little about you.”

“Oh. Anything interesting?”

“Nothing new.”

Sao relaxed when he said it and drank a little of the coffee. Rai told himself that was all the trust he needed and tried to believe it. And suddenly he was grateful that Skogul had told him exactly nothing. A three hour train ride was better off without introducing any new sources of tension.

Not for the first time, Rai wondered if he was losing something; his edge, his drive, maybe even his mind. Why was he content to be tricked? Why did he let misdirection take him even when he saw it coming? And - his blood ran cold - when it might let a suspicious character get away?

They passed over the bridge where he had tracked down Omy’s suppliers and their colourful colleagues.

He’d actually managed to spook the dealers. Walking down the metal steps to the riverside spot where they met up, even set up a marketplace with stalls, he had been stupid and alone and loud and unafraid. They had given him answers quickly, eager to get rid of him. That’s how investigations should always go, and that thought helped take the chill off, just a bit. When you were confronting culprits face-to-face, harsh and direct was the way to be.

Of course, Sao would have done things differently. He filled the niches Rai could not, that was why Rai put up with him. That was why they had got along. It was why they had been able to become friends. Sao worked his charm while Rai bumbled ahead until he couldn’t. If anyone was going to take care of the truly difficult stuff, it wouldn’t be him.

They were coming up to an industrial district. The trip was going by faster than he thought it would, compared to the previous night. The haze was clearing up, and this time he could see the line of factories lit up in the distance like a miniature sci-fi skyline; blue and green towers with smokestacks spewing orange smoke up into the night.

“Look at that,” Rai said. “It’s kind of festive.”

The bars of colored light cast on the waterfront below reminded him of the illuminated trees, back on the campus.

“Tinsel had some guts, dressing up the Row like she did,” Rai murmured.

Sao didn’t answer. His head was drooped, his hair catching on the fuzz of the seat’s gold trim. Gradually his chin dropped into the collar of his silver coat, the flower almost going up his nose. He was sound asleep.

Rai lowered the lights and watched Sao sinking down for a while in the window’s reflection. That fake, princely visage masked in creams and concealers. When unmasked, the scarring covered nearly the entire right side of his face in broad patches, like someone had taken a peeler to his head (and neck and arms; Rai avoided considering more than the parts he’d seen). The audacity of him to tell Rai to ‘forget the past’. Amnesia or not, Sao leveraged what he had like a hammer. Pull off the makeup, bat those lashes a few times, pull a sad not-really-defenceless smile and he could shut anyone up. Rai included. Even Skogul.

And yet Rai couldn’t feel like he was facing down a criminal. And he didn’t feel stupid and alone, and there was no need to be loud. Things were good when they got along. Maybe it was all really that simple.

Like Ayer avenging his love. Triad regretting his big mouth. Tinsel moving on. Skogul and Marsh, a happy couple. Sao was just an innocent guy who had been through some unspeakable pain and enjoyed Rai’s company.

Like hell. Reality didn’t work like it did on a vampire-infested campus. But they weren’t out of it yet. Rai picked up the second cup of coffee and took in the view of the night.

—

It was late.

“How did you get this number?”

“You gave it to Rip, didn’t you? Wasn’t that because you were going to help him? Nice work, by the way, you didn’t do jack shit.”

Rai wasn’t sure what that meant. It wasn’t even Rip calling. He hit the spacebar to pause his movie, a sort of hybrid horror-romantic comedy involving a bloodsucking creature that could detach its head. It wasn’t exactly a vampire, but a love story had felt a fitting way to cap off the Murnau case.

But here was someone to boot the cap right off again, and send it skidding across the room for good measure. “Happy, why exactly are you calling me?”

“The fucking Neocam group. Are you blind?”

“I left the group.”

“Dumb motherfucker– fine. I’ll send it to you.”

Rai’s phone pinged and a photo came through. He took one glance at the bloodstained shape and felt his stomach flip. “Was this taken tonight?” He stood up and went to the kitchen. He had a feeling he was going to need more coffee. “Ayer’s supposed to be in police custody.”

Happy swore viciously and there was a thud, of him knocking his fist on a table or wall. “You dipshit. You get what this means, don’t you? You got the wrong guy!”