Even if Sarah wouldn't be a public transport enthusiastic, there was no point in renting a car in Prague. The city was shaped for walking, and the metro, the ram and the buses were all reliable and comically cheap.

The two agents arrived at the same time as the Sun did. They should have been there much earlier but there were some issues with their train. Blake didn't mind it: even though the seat of the train wasn't compared to a real bed, he slept much better knowing Sarah was around.

'I'm still not exactly sure why we are here,' he said.

They were walking from the train station to their hotel; as it turned out, it was only a ten minutes walk. The streets were awakening, sleepy-looking people went by, grabbing travel mugs full of coffee. The city itself was impressive, but for Blake every historical city looked like an ancient capital of a lost civilization. One of the perks of being born and raised in Brooklyn.

'The detective working on the murder case…,' she took out her phone and checked something. '...Ema Novak asked for the MAGE's help.'

'Yes, I get that,' nodded Blake, putting his suitcase from one hand to another. 'Every police force does that, usually twice a week. But the MAGE always says no, unless there is a very, very good reason to interfere.'

Sarah carried her much bigger suitcase with such ease as if it was empty.

'That is true,' nodded the woman. 'I wonder what that might be.'

'So you don't know?' asked Blake.

'I know exactly as much as you do, Cornelius. But if you would take some advice: relax. I think the agency jumped at a shadow this time. Maybe this Novak is an old friend of someone in the inner circle or something. I doubt there will be anything we could do here, except for enjoying the city.'

'I murderer is on the loose, though,' pointed out Blake. 'One that can tear apart a vampire, at that.'

'Or the local ME made a mistake,' Sarah shrugged. 'This is a fairly small city with not too much crime altogether. I doubt that the experts would be actually that experienced around here.'

'You can't base an investigation on assumptions like that,' shook his head Blake. 'We need to be professionals.'

The woman sighed but was smiling. They reached their destination, a hotel that fit perfectly into the gothic facade of the street. A doorman dressed in uniform opened the two-winged glass doors for them and took both of their suitcases, one in each hand. He didn't even flinch. He was either in a surprisingly good condition or was a vampire.

The lobby was huge and full of light. Their shoes knocked on the immaculate marble floor.

'I'm just saying that I think there has to be a very banal explanation to this thing that the locals missed somehow,' Sarah said patiently. 'I swear I will be professional, in that very unlikely case anything that implies I'm wrong would show up.'

A tall, attractive blond woman in a grey pantsuit got up from the armchair she was sitting until now and walked up to them. She wore her hair in a tight ponytail and had strict looking square glasses.

'Agents Blake and Berger? My name is Detective Ema Novak,' she flashed a badge for them. 'Detective Zelezny is waiting for you on the scene. There has been another murder two hours ago.'

'You were saying, Sadie?' looked Blake at Sarah with his eyebrows raised. The woman didn't answer, just rolled her eyes and sighed again. They signed in quickly and left their baggage at the hotel. Ema Novak led them back into the street. The sunshine was too strong for Sarah by now, so she put on a pair of sunglasses.

'Same MO?' asked Blake.

'Hard to tell as of yet,' Novak answered. 'The body looks the same, well, what remained of it, anyway,' she spoke English very well, with a strong, but not disturbing Eastern-European accent. She probably had to deal with a lot of drunk tourists, which was good for practising.

'Where are we going?' asked Sarah.

'The scene is only a few minutes by walk. That way.'

The air was still cool, but the sunny patches were already nicely warm, promising a hot day. Dark clouds floated closer from the South.

The crime scene was a blind alley, behind a bar. The uniformed officer standing guard in the entrance of the alley stopped them to check their badges even though they came with Detective Novak. The air was heavy with the smell of blood even from there where they stood.

'Are you going to be okay?' asked Blake from Sarah in French. She breathed a little heavily but nodded.

'I think so. Keep an eye on me, just in case,' the woman answered, in Italian. That was yet another tradition between them: to keep their knowledge and skills sharp, they tended to switch between languages every now and then. It came in handy in situations like this when they needed to talk without being overheard.

At least that was the theory.

'Here, use this,' said Novak, also in French. 'It's specifically made for vampires.'

It was a tiny aluminium jar with some kind of gel in it. Using menthol gel rubbed under the nose was a standard cop trick to avoid nausea on a murder crime sceene, but since vampires usually weren't hired as homicide detectives for obvious reasons, nobody thought of making a version tuned for their senses. Until now, apparently.

'Thank you,' said Sarah in English, and Novak nodded.

Blake held up the yellow tape while the women ducked under it, then he followed them. The alley was too narrow for the three of them to walk side by side, so the man fell behind. From one side there was a four-story red brick building, while on the other the back of bars and restaurants all the way down to the third, perpendicular wall. The ground was cobblestoned and every few metres there stood a container for rubbish.

There were a number of facts Blake learned because of his job, facts no regular people should be too familiar with. One of them was that a pumping human heart can spray blood a little more than nine metres away from an injured artery. In this case, there was no record-breaking, but the first blood stains occurred when they were about eight metres from the little tent that covered the body. At least, most of it: there were limbs and unrecognizable parts all over the back of the alley, each marked with a little sign.

Next to the tent stood an older man, around fifty or so. He didn't have a gun like Novak, but carried two different wands. He was tall and robust, like someone who was athletic once, long time ago, then gave up the gym for the sake of fast food and beer. He had grey stubble around his chin, a thick, black moustache and wrinkled, pasty face. His once dark hair started to grey some time ago. There were dark circles under his bloodshot eyes. He wore a cheap suit and a creasy trench coat. The whole man gave the impression of a sad, old dog.

'Zelezny,' he said, and after a second of hesitation, he shook Blake's hand. 'They told me MAGE coming. Why you here?

'Special Agent Cornelius Blake, sir, and this is Special Agent Sarah Berger,' he introduced the two of them. 'I was hoping you would tell me why we are here. Your partner called us, after all'

Zelezny shrugged then shook Sarah's hand too.

'There is murder, true. But I told Ema we don't need MAGE here. I did not expect them to send agents, this is small case.'

'Two people were murdered with exceptional brutality, detective,' pointed out Blake. 'This isn't a small case.'

'Have you seen anything like this before, Agent Blake?' asked Detective Novak.

'I need to know some more details to answer that question, Detective. What did you find out so far?'

Zelezny murmured something in a very dismissive manner while Novak took out a little notebook and flipped it open.

'The victim is George Clarke of London, England, 29 years old. He arrived with friends two days ago, having a stag party for his best friend. They were about to leave for London tonight.'

'Have you notified the Scotland Yard yet?' asked Sarah.

'They said they will send someone over to help in the investigation as soon as someone will be free. They are not doing alright over there.'

Blake nodded. The last twelve months weren't easy in London.

Around four in the morning Mr Clarke left the bar with a young local woman, named Dorka Vesely. That was the last time his friends saw him alive. About ten minutes later Miss Vesely arrived back into the bar, covered in blood, endlessly repeating that there is a monster outside.'

Blake looked around but there were no security cameras in the alley. How convenient.

'I suppose as of now she is the lead suspect, then,' said Sarah.

'I know Dorka, she is friend of my daughter. She is not suspect, she can't hurt anyone. She is good girl,' pitched in Detective Zelezny.

'I understand, but she still is the very last one who saw him alive. We need to talk to her,' said Blake.

He and Zelezny looked into each other's eyes for a few moments, then the older man nodded.

'Okay. You can talk. But she is not suspect!'

'She and all the other witnesses are still in the bar. This way,' showed Detective Novak.

As they went after her, Blake and Sarah exchanged a look. They knew one another well enough to see that the other thinks the same: something was seriously off with this case.