Praise for Lina Gardiner’s
Jess Vandermire,
Vampire Hunter series...
“Reading a Lina Gardiner book is like riding an out-of-this-world roller coaster with your favorite people in the world.”
—Joyce Lamb, USA Today bestselling author
“Lina drops crumbs of information like Gretel dropping crumbs to find her way home; instead of home, though, we are led to the startling denouement so smoothly, we are left gasping.”
—BittenbyBooks.com
“Gardiner just crushed all the genre competition . . . The best book I’ve read all year!”
—Dark Angel Reviews on Grave Illusions
“Beyond the Grave, the second book in Lina Gardiner’s Jess Vandermire, Vampire Hunter series, features all the elements that made Grave Illusions such a wonderful read—including great character development. I can’t wait to read the next book in the series.
—Keri Arthur, New York Times bestselling author
“I would highly recommend this latest edition of the Jess Vandermire, Vampire Hunter series to anyone who enjoys a good, detailed paranormal series and almost non-stop action.”
—Keeper Bookshelf on Grave Expectations
Books by Lina Gardiner
Jess Vandermire, Vampire Hunter
Grave Illusions
Beyond the Grave
Grave New Day
Grave Expectations
Graves of Wrath
Sons of Horus
Black Moon Awakening
Graves of Wrath
Vampire Hunter, Book 5
City of Bones, Book 1
by
Lina Gardiner
ImaJinn Books
Copyright
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons (living or dead), events or locations is entirely coincidental.
ImaJinn Books
PO BOX 300921
Memphis, TN 38130
Ebook ISBN: 978-1-61194-862-2
Print ISBN: 978-1-61194-876-9
ImaJinn Books is an Imprint of BelleBooks, Inc.
Copyright © 2018 by Lina Gardiner
Published in the United States of America.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the publisher, except by a reviewer, who may quote brief passages in a review.
ImaJinn Books was founded by Linda Kichline.
We at ImaJinn Books enjoy hearing from readers. Visit our websites
ImaJinnBooks.com
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Cover design: Debra Dixon
Interior design: Hank Smith
Photo/Art credits:
Woman (manipulated) © Fifoprod | Dreamstime.com
Bones (manipulated) © Leeloomultipass | Dreamstime.com
Hallway (manipulated)© Unholyvault | Dreamstime.com
:Ewgt:01:
Dedication
Special thanks and much love to my mother, Marie Young, Who always supported me in every one of my varied artistic endeavors, especially writing. She was so proud.
Love you Mom, RIP—2017.
Chapter One
LESS THAN A MONTH ago, Jess Vandermire, Captain of an NYPD Vampire Hunting Team, would have said her job was one of the most significant things in her life. It gave her a reason to rise from her death-state each evening and face her dark existence. She lived and breathed hunting the undead.
Strike that. For all intents and purposes, she didn’t exactly live or breathe, which made the fact that she had a wonderful, warm-blooded soulmate in John Brittain even more crazy.
How’d she get so lucky?
Still, a part of her would always be a vampire hunter, regardless of how much she loved being with Britt. It was in her blood . . .
But, her beloved brother, Regent, had been sent to a church in Paris for a three-month assignment. Although he knew the timeframe, he hadn’t been given any details about the job. Even though Regent didn’t appear to be overly concerned, she chewed on her lip as she stared, unseeing, out the window. The pieces didn’t fit . . . and her cop’s gut didn’t like it.
Suddenly, Jess felt Britt’s radiating warmth behind her before soft lips caressed the back of her neck. “Britt, not in the office,” she said weakly.
“I shut the door.” He spun her around and kissed her until she started to feel actual warmth.
When she sighed, he released her. “Still worrying about Regent?”
She reluctantly stepped back from his embrace. “None of it makes sense, Britt. Why are they being so vague about his duties in Paris?” She didn’t mention her fears to him, but then again, she didn’t have to. Both of them knew that the church had been using Regent’s talents with ancient vampires. They’d all just barely survived their last encounter with an olde one. Now they were sending Regent to France, alone. Jess was afraid for her brother.
“There’s always the chance that they don’t actually need his expertise with vampires. Maybe they simply need a priest?” Britt said.
“Is that what your gut is telling you?”
He cleared his throat. “Not really.”
“At least the church doesn’t know the full extent of Regent’s abilities,” she said.
“After last year’s encounter with Cardinal Vasilli and Uriel, the church probably has a good idea,” Britt reminded her softly. “I don’t trust Vasilli one bit. Think about it. He turned Uriel, an angel, into a voracious vampire. What kind of man of the cloth would do that? Here’s hoping he doesn’t have a hand in Regent’s new assignment.”
She remained silent for a few moments. Then she squared her shoulders. “That settles it, then. We’re going to Paris, Britt. Regent is going to need us.”
“Just like that?” Britt said, less surprised than she’d expected. “What about the vampire-hunting team?”
“I have a lot of time off coming. And so do you. You haven’t taken any leave since you started with my team four years ago.” She should have noticed that. Humans needed vacations for their health. She looked him up and down. The question being—was he still human, or had he become more angel?
“Oh, I’m coming, doll. Besides, you’ll need someone to help get you through the airport and to the hotel, just in case things go sideways.”
“To be honest, I hoped you’d say that,” she said. “Let’s go talk to the chief.”
“Poor man isn’t going to know what hit him,” Britt said, pulling her office door shut behind them.
“Let’s not tell Regent we’re going to follow him to Paris. He’ll think we’re babysitting him and try to make us stay here. So we’ll sneak over a few days after he leaves.”
THAT EVENING, WHILE Regent got ready to board the red-eye flight to Paris, Jess put on her best tough vampire persona. She hated the thought of him going to Europe without her as backup. Something wasn’t right about this whole thing.
Regent toyed with the handle of his carry-on bag, barely making eye contact with Jess. “I know you’d prefer I stay here, dear, but the church has only given me two choices,” he said. “Either I go, or I retire.”
Retire? He’d never mentioned that part to her before, and it made her even more suspicious. Why was it so important that Regent be in Paris? Who had initiated
this trip and what were they up to?
“Holy hell, Regent. I didn’t realize they’d blackmailed you into going. Are you sure you want to do this?”
He stared into nothingness. “I’m doing it. And don’t worry, dearest. I’ve always been able to hold my own, and we’ve been through a lot, Jess. So don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.”
She’d never dream of shaking his faith in his abilities. But due to the fact that Regent now looked decades younger than his seventy-three years, Jess knew that everyone forgot that her brother was indeed, a senior citizen. Including Regent, himself.
“Of course you will be fine,” she said forcing herself to sound like she meant it. Thank God she’d be in Paris in the next couple of days, and would be able to keep an eye on him.
Meanwhile, Britt wrapped an arm around Jess’s tense shoulders. She leaned into him. “And, I’ll keep an eye on Jess. You don’t have to worry about her.”
Regent didn’t exactly look appeased. “I know you will, my son, but what if there’s an outbreak of—you know what. . . . Don’t forget, Jess literally died when she tried to save Uriel from vampirism,” he said under his breath then looked over his shoulder in case someone was listening. “I’ll be worrying about both of you.”
“In case you haven’t noticed, I’m already dead,” she whispered back. “And, with Britt’s angelic DNA, we’ll both be fine.”
“Don’t joke, dearest. You nearly didn’t come back to us last year,” Regent said.
“But I did come back. I’m hard to kill.” She tried to joke again, but it was obvious Regent wasn’t having any of it. “Besides, the team is fully trained now. And truth be told, they don’t need me as much, now that Jane’s on board. I’d probably be stuck behind a desk more often than trolling the streets.”
“I doubt that,” Regent said, rolling his eyes.
Jess ignored his comment. “Jane’s like a ninja when she’s hunting vampires. And she’s got a whole team of highly trained people behind her. She’s been taking her team out without us for a few months now. Britt and I don’t get to see as much action as we used to.”
Most of what she’d just said was true. Jane had been a weak, tiny vampire on the brink of self-annihilation when Jess had found her and had given her a reason to go on. But she had taken on the mantle of vampire hunter with a gusto no one had expected. Jess’s little prodigy had done very well, and Jess had no worries about her taking over while she and Britt were in Paris.
“If this new lieutenant is as good as you say, maybe you could come and visit me for a couple of days?” Regent said.
Jess slipped out from under Britt’s shoulder and wrapped her arms around her baby brother, giving him a rare hug. Regent blinked back tears and she pulled away quickly. “You never know,” she said, trying to hide her concern for him.
Jess didn’t know how she’d manage, even for a short time. She’d always been able to see Regent whenever she needed to. His prayers had saved her partial soul, over and over again. He’d been strong for her his whole life, but now, with the changes in his physiology after being kidnapped and secretly regressed from being a seventy-three-year-old senior to a man in his mid-forties, they were all left wondering about his physical health. She feared that his youth might merely be superficial.
If he was being sent to Paris because they had a vampire problem, he’d need backup. And they’d always worked as a team.
But she couldn’t go yet. They still had a snag to get past. In order for her to follow her brother to Paris, they had to figure out a way to get her through security without anyone realizing she had no pulse. That meant her amazing forensic vampirologist, Sampson Case, only had a few days to finish up the tiny machine that mimicked a pulse rate without setting off any alarm bells when she went through the metal detectors.
And if they managed to get past that hurdle, she could only hope that Britt’s prayers would be strong enough to let her survive the sunlight long enough to reach her hotel. Because it would be morning when they arrived.
Being able to withstand sunlight for a short time made her unique amongst vampires, a residual effect from Regent partially saving her soul through prayer and baptism when she’d first been turned. Because of him, she’d managed to maintain a tiny shred of her humanity. But it was a shred that constantly teetered on a precipice, ready to tumble over into the darkness at any moment.
A FEW DAYS LATER, Jess leaned forward and stared out the window of their jet. In the darkness below, tiny pinpoints of light dotted the ground. Before she knew it, they were over the ocean and the plane had risen above the clouds until there was nothing to see. Who knew flying would be so liberating?
Would she come face-to-face with vampires in France? No doubt, they’d be sophisticated, compared to the vampires she’d come across in North America. And much older. But that didn’t matter. She wasn’t there to fight them.
In fact, she wanted to stay beneath the radar. No fighting on this trip, unless she was forced to defend herself. At home in New York, her ability to withstand sunlight had made her a target by vampires who wanted to usurp her ability to walk in daylight—improbable at best. And there were others who wanted her dead, simply because she killed vampires for a living. Now that, she could understand.
Hopefully, the European vampires would be unaware of her abilities, as well as her job. She could use a break.
She settled back in her chair. For the first time, she fully embraced the word vacation. That is, if embraced meant admitting she was scared as hell. What would she do with her time?
Hours felt like days before they’d landed and grabbed a taxi to their apartment, which was tucked into a hidden recessed courtyard in the old part of the city. She’d found the apartment online. It had boasted a darkroom for photography—which meant no windows. She’d immediately found construction workers in the city and paid them a bundle to put in a heavy door with locks, turning it into a bedroom, before she arrived. She’d miss her specially designed window on the city in New York, but at least she’d have a safe room.
Britt had been saying extra prayers during their flight. The poor man had to be exhausted, but she’d needed the added protection. Praying for herself had little to no effect.
As added security from the sun, she’d worn a heavy, hooded jacket, a scarf, dark sunglasses, and gloves. She stood out on the summery Paris morning, but she had no choice.
The taxi driver had been instantly weirded out by her attire. He spoke in French at first, then switched to English when he realized they were American. “What is wrong with your girlfriend?” he said to Britt.
“She has porphyria,” Britt said. “She gets burned if she goes outside without protection. It’s an autoimmune disorder.”
“Man, that sucks,” he said, then turned his radio up in order to avoid any further discussion. Twenty minutes later, he’d dropped them off, handling the cash they’d paid him carefully, as if one of them had something contagious.
“If he thought porphyria was bad, imagine if he knew the truth,” she joked, standing in the middle of the sidewalk directly in front the building that housed her apartment. Having never been in another city, let alone another country, she didn’t realize a place could smell older than New York.
Britt slid an arm around her shoulder. “Let’s get you inside. You’ve already been out here too long.”
That’s when she realized his gaze had focused on her wrist, which had started to steam. She adjusted her hood, then pulled her hands under her sleeves for cover and climbed the stairs to the front door.
Their apartment was on the third floor, and took up the whole level. Knowing apartments in Paris were notoriously small, she hoped it would be as big as it had seemed online—the benefit being that they allowed renovations. And, she’d be near her brother, and make sure he was safe. That was what was important.
BRITT BIT BACK a yawn and followed her into the apartment. During their flight and the drive to their new digs, he’d been silently reciting the required prayers for her soul. Now that he could stop praying, he guessed this so-called vacation would test their togetherness to the full extent.
He wasn’t sure Jess was ready to be unemployed. She had too much energy to be content sitting around and doing nothing. He’d have to find ways to keep her occupied, physically and mentally. A few ideas immediately came to mind.
“How did Regent sound when you talked to him before we left New York?” he asked, following her as she checked the rooms. Her safe room had been completed on time and her fridge had already been installed and filled with blood. She’d given the contractor a medical reason for the blood, and the man had bought it.
“He sounded a little lonely,” she said. “But I’m sure he’ll be happily surprised when we show up at his place tonight.”
“It’ll definitely be a surprise.” Britt took her hand in his, stalling her for a moment. “Has he started working at his new church yet? Does he know why he was sent here?”
“He was a little vague about that. I’m pretty sure he’s still unaware of the role the church wants him to play in Paris.”
Britt frowned. “That’s a little odd, given that they threatened to make him retire if he didn’t come.”
“I thought so, too. I’m glad we’ll soon be able to talk to him in person. Then we’ll find out what’s going on.”
“It’ll be nice to see Regent,” Britt said. “And I’ve heard that, like New York, Paris is a city that never sleeps. You and I will have fun seeing the sights at night.” He searched her face for signs of how she was feeling.
She actually grinned at him. “You already sound like a tourist. Where should we go first? The Eiffel tower?”
“But, of course!” he said with a fake French accent.
It was only when they found her medium-sized darkroom that he cringed. It was nothing like her palatial bedroom in New York. The Parisian contractors had replaced the door with heavy-grade steel and a coded lock, but the inside of the room was brutally dark and more crypt-like than anything he’d seen in a cemetery. Even a bed and a table with a lamp couldn’t change that. He didn’t have to ask if she liked it. He already knew the answer.
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