Graves of Wrath

by Lina Gardiner

  Worse, soon after his arrival, he’d learned he wouldn’t be given a church. He’d always had a church, and wasn’t sure how he’d manage, until he’d been told about the church’s desperate need to find an ancient script that had been lost centuries ago.

  Unfortunately, he hadn’t found anything today. It was the end of the day, and he packed up his things to leave, then headed out of Notre Dame using the main entrance. The sun had set, and Jess would likely be awake by now. Would he see her again tonight?

  A wave of dizziness forced him to sit on a bench a block away from the church. He inhaled deeply several times and leaned back against the wooden back and closed his eyes. He said a few prayers until the dizziness passed.

  It wasn’t a bad place to sit. The scenery in Paris had to be one of the highlights of his work here, along with the people and the food. He drew in a satisfying breath and gazed down the street where the lights of the Eiffel Tower sparkled in the distance. It was an almost magical sight. He often watched young couples with small children on the streets. Seeing them enjoying the city of lights was life-affirming for him. Tonight, the only person walking past him was a solitary young woman with a stride that reminded him of someone—Jess? Happiness filled him when he realized she’d come to see him again.

  “Jess,” he shouted, fearing she hadn’t noticed him, sitting there on the bench. “Where’s Britt?”

  She strode past him without even turning her head.

  “Jess?” He pushed himself to his feet, wobbling for a moment before calling out to her again. She walked quickly down the sidewalk and was nearly out of range. “Jess!”

  She didn’t offer the slightest sign she’d heard him. With Jess’s hearing, he could have whispered her name and she’d have heard it.

  He raced after her, but she was moving too fast. So he changed his mind and headed for the sidewalk café that had become his nightly indulgence. He’d have a cup of tea and a croissant with cheese for dinner before he made his way home. Then he’d try to figure out why Jess had ignored him.

  To his surprise, half an hour later, Jess crossed the street and walked toward him on the sidewalk near the café where he was finishing up his dinner. She was still alone. Again no Britt?

  “Jess?” This time he stood and managed to make eye contact with her, waving her over. “Jess, I’m here.”

  She frowned at him and pointed at herself. “Moi?” she asked.

  He nodded. A weird feeling crept up his spine. It was Jess—but it wasn’t Jess.

  “I’m sorry, monsieur,” she said. “I am obviously not who you think I am.”

  At the sound of the woman’s French accent, Regent’s legs gave out, and he dropped back onto his chair. He could feel the blood draining from his face.

  She must’ve noticed his reaction because she faltered.

  It was Jess, wasn’t it? But when had she cut her hair? “Jess, don’t fool around, get over here, now.”

  She approached him finally and he stared hard at her. She was playing a joke on him surely, because her hair was different. A wig? “Jess, what is this? It isn’t like you to play games.”

  “Excusez-moi?”

  “You’re really not Jess, are you?” he said finally. The woman’s voice was a little different and there was a definite French accent. Jess couldn’t fake that. “I don’t understand any of this. Je regret . . .” he started to say in broken French, then switched to English again when he remembered she’d answered him that way. “I honestly thought you were my sister. You look so much like her.”

  “I look like your sister, you say? And you couldn’t tell the difference?” she asked, a little haughtily. “I very much doubt your sister looks like me, monsieur.”

  “A doppelganger if I’ve ever seen one,” he said with a weak smile. The similarities were amazing . . . right down to the fact that this woman looked like she, too, might be dead. What was wrong with him?

  She stared at him for a few moments, then turned and strode away without another word.

  “Odd,” Regent said to himself. That woman had looked exactly like his sister. And he’d have sworn she was a vampire, too. Then again, maybe it was just his addled brain playing tricks on him. He’d been off lately. Fatigued and forgetful. But now he was seeing things. And that scared him more than he cared to think about. He pressed a hand on his forehead. No. No way. She was real. He’d swear it.

  ON THEIR SECOND evening in Paris, Jess waited for Britt’s alarm to go off. Since he didn’t need much sleep these days, she was surprised he was still in bed. She walked to his room and knocked lightly on the door.

  No response.

  She knocked again and waited. When he didn’t even mutter back, she pushed his door open. “Britt?” The bed was made and he was gone.

  In New York, he wandered the streets a lot while she slept. He must be doing the same thing here.

  She’d barely made it back to the kitchen when she heard the key in the lock. She strode to the door to greet him.

  “Look who I ran into,” Britt said, stepping aside so she could see Regent.

  “My two favorite men.” That was about as emotional as she could manage. After all, she’d gone overboard and hugged him when they arrived. If she kept that up, he’d think she’d gone soft. Her exterior vampire demeanor was both a blessing and a barrier from feelings she couldn’t allow. Any crack in her exterior, and she might shatter to bits, or turn to the dark.

  “I’ll put the coffee on,” Britt said. Then he went to the kitchen and opened an upper cupboard. To her surprise, the shelves were fully stocked.

  “You’ve been busy,” she said.

  He smiled at her and patted his waistline. “I can’t eat croissants every day.”

  Not long after that, the disgusting smell of brewed coffee filled the place. It was all she could do not to cover her nose with her hand, but she’d never say that to either of the men. She didn’t want to do anything that would make them stop drinking their favorite brew whenever she was around.

  Regent took a sip of his coffee and set it down. He seemed distracted. Either something was wrong with him, or he had something on his mind. “Everything okay, Regent?” she asked.

  “Actually, I have a very strange story to tell you,” he said. “Earlier tonight, I saw a woman who looked exactly like you, Jess. I mean exactly. Well, except for the French accent. And, I think she was a vampire.”

  Jess frowned. “You’re sure she was a vampire?”

  “Of course I am. I’m not delusional, yet.” He’d made his statement a little too strenuously, and he looked a little uncomfortable.

  “Exactly like me? She must have had something different about her. Longer face, taller in stature, shorter, heavier—something?”

  “Not as far as I could see,” he said vehemently. “Oh wait. She had a different haircut.”

  “Two gorgeous women in one city. I’ll have hit the double-my-pleasure jackpot,” Britt said.

  “Not funny, Brittain,” Jess said. “Besides, you know what they say—everyone has a double somewhere. I guess mine is in France.”

  Regent leaned his arms on the island in the kitchen. He had dark circles under his eyes again tonight.

  “Regent, you look tired. Are you getting enough sleep?” she asked.

  “I think so, dear. In fact, I seem to be sleeping more than usual, given that I have too much spare time these days,” he said.

  “Have you found out why the Vatican brought you here yet?” Jess asked.

  Regent paused. He obviously wanted to tell them something, but couldn’t. “Just paperwork, as far as I can tell,” he said. “Maybe they just want to keep a closer eye on me. After all, I failed to help the vampire they’d sent to me in New York.”

  “That can’t be right. We saved Uriel from vampirism together. How could
anyone be angry about that? Without you, it wouldn’t have happened.”

  Who would have believed that a fallen angel as powerful as Uriel could have been turned into a voracious vampire? But it had happened, most likely deliberately to see what the consequences would be. Cardinal Vasilli had been involved in turning Uriel, she’d bet her eyeteeth on it. Although they’d saved Uriel in the end, it had been touch and go for a while. Jess had even died in the process. But her sacrifice had given Uriel the final spark he needed to fight off the horrors of vampirism. As a vampire, Uriel’s thirst had known no bounds. North America could have been lost to his hunger, but as an angel, his abilities were also boundless. He brought Jess back, though still as a vampire even when he could have restored her humanity. According to him, she was important in the fight against her brethren. Her vampirism was a gift, and she’d remain undead because it was her destiny and her duty.

  “Maybe I’m wrong.” Regent slumped back in his chair. “After all my years with the church, I should never have been demoted to a paper shuffler, even if it is in France.” Again, he sounded as if he was holding back something important. Regent wasn’t a good liar.

  Jess caught Britt’s irritated expression. That made her feel a little better because it meant they were thinking the same thing—Regent wasn’t telling everything. She considered mentioning the shadows but held back. Regent looked too tired and too feeble to have to face something else otherworldly tonight.

  “I think you need to watch your back, Regent. I’m getting vibes about this place that I’ve never had before, and I haven’t seen many vamps out and about,” Jess said. “Which is odd since vampires should be more prevalent here.”

  “Maybe this area isn’t the local vampires’ favorite haunt? You said Notre Dame was painful for you. Perhaps it bothers them, too?” Regent said. “Though, I’m positive the woman I saw was one.” He rubbed the back of his neck.

  “She really looked that much like me?”

  “Dead ringer,” he said deliberately, biting back a grin while Jess groaned at his pun.

  “Well, I’m going to keep an eye out for her,” Jess said.

  Regent made no attempt to hide his now weary expression. “It’s a big city, dear. Most likely, we’ll never come across this person again.”

  “Maybe.” She shrugged her shoulders. “At any rate, you’re tired. Want us to walk you home?”

  “Thanks, I’d appreciate that. It’ll give me a little more time with you.” Regent linked his arm with hers on the sidewalk. Other than Britt, he was the only person who’d dare.

  “You sure you don’t want to take a taxi, Reej?”

  “Now Jess, I’m not that feeble. Besides, I like to see the city at night—the lights, the excitement. It’s all so different here.”

  “Yes, that it is,” she said, getting an odd knot in the pit of her stomach. It was the kind of different that scared the bejesus out of her.

  A few minutes later, once she saw Regent inside, Jess rejoined Britt on the sidewalk. The idea that she had a lookalike running into Regent didn’t sit well with her. She turned to Britt. “Why don’t we scope out this neighborhood tonight? It’s strange we haven’t spotted any vampires at all.”

  “Didn’t you tell me they’d be more sophisticated here?” Britt said. “Maybe they don’t hunt the streets at night. Maybe they have better places.”

  “Such as?”

  “I don’t know. Private parties? Clubs? Vampires are supposedly older here. Wiser. They likely have more funding, at least the smarter ones do.” He paused. “Remember Constantine.”

  “It’s hard to forget Constantine, given that he killed you and initiated your angelic DNA.”

  Britt cleared his throat and cringed. “You had to remind me. Still, it was Constantine who served the more sophisticated vampires in New York by providing higher-class people as their fodder. European vampires might get their blood supply that way too.”

  They crossed Pont Neuf, the oldest and most beautiful bridge in Paris. She stood in the center, admiring the architecture and the Seine River flowing through the city—street lights illuminated colorful jewels on the river creating beautiful, undulating art. Even this late at night, the streets were occupied with citizens, revelers, and sightseers. It seemed Paris really was a city that didn’t sleep.

  Britt took her hand and slowly pulled her toward him. “I don’t know about you, but I think we should at least do a little kissing on this romantic bridge. Maybe there’s some kind of magic here for lovers. Let’s try it.”

  “You don’t believe in magic, Britt,” she said with a laugh. The rare sound tinkled on the air and disappeared.

  His lips crushed against hers with a fiery passion. Not waiting for her to meet him halfway, he took the kiss with a desperation that made her bones feel weak.

  One of his hands slid up her back and wrapped around her neck. His other hand felt warm against her waist. There was sense of ownership in that hold that thrilled her in a way she’d never imagined possible for a vampire like her.

  The promise in his kisses spread like wildfire through her veins, heating her blood and making her heart pump.

  “Maybe we should go home?” she said, unusually breathless.

  “I thought you’d never ask,” he said, taking her hand.

  They’d only gone a short distance when that uneasy sensation started building inside her again. What the hell?

  “You sense it, too, don’t you?” Britt said in a low voice, meant only for her.

  “I do. What is it?”

  “I’m not sure,” he said. “But I think we’re about to find out.”

  Jess followed the direction of his gaze. Shadows thickened on the sidewalk ahead of them. Even stranger, it appeared there were three shadows moving toward them, merging and moving apart again. They were darker than the night, but she could make out nothing else.

  She knew one thing for certain, though. Her instincts about coming to Paris had been dead-on.

  Her throat went dry. “For Regent’s sake, we need to find out what is going on here. Surely other people have seen these shadows? Someone must be talking about it?”

  Disappointment flared in Britt’s expression. “I meant to tell you . . . I read about people claiming to be attacked at night, though they didn’t know exactly who, or what, their assailant was. One witness said he’d only seen a shadow. Needless to say, the cops thought he’d had a bit too much to drink.”

  “So much for going back to the apartment,” Jess said.

  “Raincheck, babe?”

  She planted her hands on her hips and eyed the approaching darkness. “I just wish I didn’t have this impending feeling of disaster. I don’t think we should turn our backs on these things, either.”

  “Agreed. Maybe we should back away slowly. “

  “This is the second time we’ve seen them. What if they’re following us?” she said.

  She and Britt began backing away as they would with any predatory wild animal, while not breaking focus on the shadows.

  “We sure as hell need to find out. I wonder if holy water would scare them off?”

  She shivered involuntarily. She’d been burned by holy water once, when Britt had used it against an attacking vampire. It wasn’t something she wanted to experience again anytime soon. But these shadows were definitely menacing. Who knew what would stop them, or if they were even actually dangerous?

  “Maybe they’re drawn to me because I’m so dark? They might be attracted to evil of any kind,” she said. “Maybe that’s why we’ve both seen the shadows. I’m the catalyst.”

  “You’re not evil, my darling. How many times do I have to tell you that?” he said, his eyes still glued to the shadows.

  “You see me through rose-colored glasses. The rest of the world sees something completely different.
Even members of the black ops team. Some of them are almost more afraid of me than they are the vampires we combat.”

  “That’s because of your kick-ass reputation and your abilities, doll.” They took two more steps back. The shadows moved closer again. “Some of the team members are like wild dogs. Somebody’s got to be alpha or they’ll go off at the wrong time.”

  “Did you just call me alpha?” she said, not taking her eyes off the encroaching shadows, either.

  “That’s why I respect the hell out of you,” he said. “You’re such a bad-ass, and not just on the streets.” When they backed onto the bridge, the shadows’ momentum halted, then they faded away.

  “It seems they’re not interested in crossing this bridge with us. Maybe they have an issue with water?”

  “Maybe. That’s something we’ll have to remember if we ever run into them again.”

  “Home?”

  “Definitely. Via the other side of the bridge. Not that we’re running from them. We just need to be more prepared for next time we run into them.”

  “And we’ll be packing holy water,” Britt said.

  Chapter Three

  THE NEXT NIGHT, Regent sat, waiting at the same café in hope of seeing Jess’s lookalike again. Maybe she regularly took this route? This time, he’d convince her to meet Jess. He’d even tucked a picture into his wallet to prove that his sister looked exactly like her. He also considered calling his law firm in New York. He and Jess had been adopted. If the firm could find their adoption papers, they might be able to learn if there had been another child. He intended to do that, right away. But not until he learned a little more from this woman first.

  He waited so long, his tea had gone cold. Even though his back was cramped from sitting here so long, he stayed until the wee hours, waiting, hoping. But Jess’s twin never appeared.

  Reluctantly, he paid the tab, threw his napkin on the table, and stood, ready to return home.

  He missed New York sometimes. He loved the people, the melting pot of accents and lifestyles, and the sense of homecoming the city offered. People here were friendly enough, but too often, he couldn’t communicate with co-workers who didn’t speak English. Again, he questioned the reasons he’d been sent here. He didn’t seem to be qualified at all for the job, mainly because he couldn’t read French. He wondered who had asked for him.