Graves of Wrath

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Graves of Wrath Page 6

by Lina Gardiner


  Morana looked pensive for a moment. “I just assumed I was born in Paris,” she said. “But, to be honest, I’ve never actually asked.”

  Jess met Regent’s gaze. Their story was pretty much the same. They’d believed they’d been born in New York, and never had a reason to question it.

  “Are your parents still living?” Morana asked.

  “No. They died years and years ago,” Regent said, before Jess gave him a nudge under the table with her foot.

  Morana’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “They must have died very young.”

  Was she digging to find out if Jess was a vampire? Even more suspicious now, Jess feigned indifference, shrugging. “We try not to think about it. And your parents?”

  “I was raised by my adoptive father. He is elderly, but in good health.”

  “That’s wonderful,” Regent said, still sounding a little too exuberant. “Maybe he knows about your birth family, if you have siblings?”

  Morana leaned back in her chair, still staring warily at Jess. “You don’t honestly think we’re related, do you?” she said with a soft French accent.

  “No, I don’t,” Jess said.

  “Given the adoption information and your looks, it’s got to be at least a possibility?” Regent said.

  Jess inhaled slowly. Or she’d had plastic surgery.

  Jess had never seen her brother act like this before. He’d already accepted this woman as a sibling . . . and he’d barely just met her. It wasn’t like him, at all. Honestly, what were the odds that both she and Morana would be vampires? It was too much of a stretch.

  Morana glanced at her watch. “I’d better go, or I’ll be late for work.”

  Regent’s hands fidgeted on the table. “Wait, before you go, can we plan to meet again? We don’t even know where you live or your last name.”

  She stood. “I work at LaCave, under the city in the Kingdom of Bones. It’s a favorite nightclub for cataphiles. And my last name is Longina.”

  Britt nearly dropped his cup. It clattered loudly onto the table. “Bones?”

  “Yes, lots of them,” Morana said with a gleam in her eye as if she’d picked up on Britt’s phobia and found it humorous.

  Britt shivered, but forced a nonchalant expression. “What are cataphiles?” he asked.

  Jess was the only one who knew about his phobia and she’d keep it that way. He’d had a scare as a child, and was embarrassed to admit it had followed him to adulthood. At least that’s what he thought had caused it. She had the feeling there was more to it than that.

  “Surely you’ve heard of the bones under the city?” Morana said. “There are millions of disarticulated skeletons in the tunnels, along with miles of passages. Cataphiles are those who dare to venture into the catacombs.”

  Jess’s gut twinged while she considered the shadows and the fact that millions of bones lay in the ground below them. Could that be why the dark entities were leaking out from the walls? Did they originate down there? And if so, why, after so many years, would they erupt from the tunnels now?

  “I don’t get why anyone would want to spend time down there,” Britt said. “It must be like an underground graveyard.”

  Morana shrugged.

  “We came to Paris on an extended vacation when my brother, Regent, was posted here a short time ago. So we haven’t done a lot of sightseeing yet. I guess your club is something we’ve missed,” Jess said.

  “What are you doing here, anyway?” Morana asked, eyeing Regent first.

  “I’m a Catholic priest, here on assignment,” he said. He normally wore casual clothes these days, since he had no real reason to dress in his religious cassock.

  Morana’s cool features changed instantly. Her eyes widened and she froze in her seat. The expression on her face had been one of terror for about a millisecond before she hid it with a blank expression.

  Jess noticed the change, as did Britt. If Morana was acting, she was damn good at it.

  “I see,” Morana said. “Well, in that case, I very much doubt we’re related. I can’t imagine being related to a priest.”

  Regent couldn’t hide the fact that he’d been offended, which brought out the protective side of Jess. It’d give her actual pleasure to kick the woman’s ass right now, but that would only upset Regent more.

  Meanwhile, Morana didn’t seem to give Regent’s feelings another thought. “I’m out of here,” she said, sounding bored, before she stood and walked away without a backward glance.

  MORANA STRODE down the street as fast as she could. She needed to put distance between herself and those people. God almighty, how could a priest even want to be her brother? Was he crazy?

  Her father would have an aneurysm if he knew she’d met a priest who believed he was her brother. Sinclair would try to make her stay at home. That was his modus operandi whenever he thought his baby girl vampire might be at risk. She scoffed loudly. As if she was afraid of a deluded priest, or that vampire who looked like her. Was it a trick? Why would anyone want to look like her? She had no wealth to speak of, and no real life to want to emulate. She worked at LaCave for entertainment, as well as a little extra fluff on the side, a neck bent her way, every now and then.

  Still, it was worrying. Even if there was the slimmest of chances that what they were saying could be true, she couldn’t see having a priest as a brother. And worse, he’d already seemed to want her as a sister, proof or not.

  The fact remained that Jess Vandermire could be her twin. But, if she was also a vampire, she wasn’t a regular one. Something was different about Jess, though Morana had no idea what it was.

  Nearing the entrance to LaCave, Morana inhaled the scent of some fresh young things going down the ladder into the cavern in front of her. She grinned and followed them down.

  BRITT DIDN’T LIKE that chick—not one bit. He didn’t trust her, and he worried that Regent already seemed taken by her.

  As a cop, he knew bad news when he saw it. And he’d seen plenty like her, vampire or not. He’d bet she’d been bad news long before she was ever vamped.

  “Britt?” Regent said, as if he’d been reading Britt’s mind. “What do you think?”

  “Okay, I admit she looks like Jess,” Britt said. “But, twin vampires, around the same age? Do you understand the odds of them both being twenty-nine? They’d have to have been bitten the same year. It’s impossible to believe.”

  Jess cast a worried glance at Regent before she spoke. Britt already knew why she felt that way. She knew her brother had already fallen for this vampire, hook, line, and sinker. No matter how improbable, he honestly believed Morana was his and Jess’s long-lost sister.

  Unfortunately, Regent needed a reality check, and fast.

  “Doesn’t anything about this strike you as odd, Reej? Morana and I appear to be the same age. How could that have happened? And if she’d been created for some nefarious reason, how would anyone ever have guessed we’d show up in Paris? We didn’t even know it ourselves until a very short while ago.” Jess clamped her hands over Regent’s and gently squeezed. “Doesn’t any of this bother you?”

  He patted Jess’s hand. “Jess. We were adopted. We’ve always known that. Why do you deny she could be your twin sister?”

  “It’s just too convenient, Regent. We can’t possibly trust her, and it might be better if we avoid her in future.”

  Regent looked taken aback. “I’m not sure I’m ready to do that yet.”

  “As a vampire, she’s dangerous to you,” Jess said.

  Britt agreed, though he didn’t say so. Surely Regent wasn’t so taken with the thought of having a newfound sister that he’d take chances with a vampire.

  “But if she’s our sister?” Regent asked, holding his hands up hopefully.

  Sensing Jess’s frustration, Britt ste
pped into the conversation. “Regent, we can check her out, you and I. But, before we say the word ‘trust’, we need to find out more about her. I think it’d be best that you don’t meet her alone in future. You should at least have one of us with you.”

  “But . . .”

  “No buts. Please agree to this,” Jess said.

  Jess smiled her thanks at Britt and his heart squeezed. She was so beautiful, inside and out.

  That other creature was only like Jess in one way—her looks. She didn’t have Jess’s heart. And for some reason, he could see through Morana. Unlike Jess, she looked conniving and cruel. Jess’s inner richness and forgiveness showed through, marking her as different from her supposed sister.

  Morana had an agenda, he’d swear to it. Worse, he knew he could take a stake to her and wipe her out without guilt. She exuded the same kind of evil as the vampires they took out in New York. Unfortunately, Regent’s guileless hope put a damper on that possibility, and the fact that they were in another country meant he couldn’t start an incident.

  But if she gave him one moment’s reason, Morana could kiss her ass goodbye.

  Chapter Five

  STILL SEATED OUTSIDE the café, Jess surveyed Britt and Regent from across the table. “Morana’s obviously not that keen to claim us as her long-lost family, so I don’t think we should worry about it, either.”

  “But what if we are related to her?” Regent asked.

  “Oh, Regent, are you really that desperate for another freaking vampire in your life?” Jess asked, trying to tamp down the despair growing in her gut.

  “Jess, you know I love you. But, if we have another sister, I’ll want to know her too—no matter what her issues.”

  Jess inhaled and exhaled slowly. Regent was truly the most kind-hearted person she’d ever known. His goodness knew no bounds. But if he kept it up with this vampire, he might end up very badly hurt or worse.

  Trying to be more understanding, Jess shrugged. “Will you be okay if Britt and I check into her background then? I have a contact in the French police force, someone who worked with me in New York a few years ago.”

  “Who is he?” Britt asked, sounding suddenly jealous. That wasn’t like him at all.

  “Her name is Veronique LaFontaine,” she said and watched Britt’s expression flip to embarrassment.

  “If you feel you have to,” Regent said.

  Jess stood. “I do. And for now, will you please be careful around Morana? Don’t meet her alone again. Promise me.”

  Regent looked a little disappointed, but he pressed a hand over his heart and said, “I promise.”

  “Good. Let’s go, Britt.”

  Britt sat upright in his chair. “What? Right now?”

  “Of course. The sooner, the better.”

  Regent drained his coffee and stood slowly, grabbing onto the side of the table as if he needed the support. Jess almost reached out to help him, but he would never have allowed that.

  “Want us to walk you home, first?” she asked, forcing her voice to sound casual, not concerned.

  “No. I’m fine. I always enjoy my evening stroll,” he said. “I think I’ll walk down the Champs-Élysées before I head home. I enjoy seeing the sights.”

  Jess was about to warn him about the shadows, when Regent said, “Don’t worry, I’ll go the long way around. I’ll be sure to avoid the left side of Pont Neuf until things are clear.”

  She nodded. “And, I’ll let you know if we learn anything from Veronique. Either way, we’ll be in touch tomorrow.”

  “Good night,” Regent said.

  After he left, Jess asked the waiter for directions to the police station.

  After going two blocks, Britt slowed his pace. “Did this French cop work on the vampire-hunting team while she was in New York?”

  “No. She was on assignment with two other investigators in my department. I met her because she was always on night duty. The person she’d been tracking had drug deals running at night near the shipyard, and he hung out in vampire clubs.”

  “Did she know about you?” he asked.

  “Maybe,” Jess said. “I never told her, but I had the feeling she already knew there were vampires around. She didn’t come right out and say it, but she dropped a few hints. I didn’t validate her statements, though. Maybe I should have.”

  A few blocks later, they arrived at the Prefecture de Police, where Jess asked for Veronique, then showed her New York police force credentials. The officer sent the two of them down the hall with directions to Veronique’s office.

  Jess knocked on the doorjamb since the door was open. Veronique was leaning over some paperwork, and by the look of her dull brown hair, she’d been running her fingers through it . . . a lot. Same old Veronique Jess remembered. “Hello?”

  The policewoman jumped out of her seat, a startled expression on her face. “Lieutenant Vandermire?”

  “Actually, it’s captain now,” Jess said with a grin.

  “Congratulations. And how wonderful to see you,” Veronique said, grabbing Jess and giving her a kiss on both cheeks.

  “It’s good to see you too, Veronique. May I introduce my lieutenant, John Brittain.”

  He held out his hand, but Veronique grabbed him and kissed his cheeks, too. He looked a little flustered by that. Maybe she should have warned him. Veronique was full of life, and as good a cop as she’d ever met. In a different world, they’d have probably been good friends.

  “Please,” she said. “Please, have a seat.”

  They sat around a table covered with perps’ mug shots.

  “You seem to be up to your eyeballs in work, Vee,” Jess said.

  “You have no idea. It’s crazy here lately. I don’t know what is going on.” She clapped her hands together. “So, what brings you two here. On the job?”

  “No. Vacation, actually,” Jess said. “My brother Regent was sent over here to work for the church. I think I told you he was a priest?”

  Veronique nodded. “He’s elderly, is he not?”

  Luckily, Veronique had never met Regent in person. Jess might have told her his age, though. “Not that old, actually. Middle-aged.”

  Veronique frowned. “Mon Dieu, my memory is bad. I thought he was in his seventies.”

  Jess let that comment slide and hoped to hell Veronique would assume she’d made a mistake.

  “What brings you here at this time of night?” Veronique asked, glancing at the clock over her door. “You may be on vacation, but you both look like you’re on the job.”

  “We’re not working,” Jess said. “But we do have a favor to ask. The thing is, I met someone here who looks exactly like me. I wanted to find out if you knew anything about her?”

  “You mean, you want to know if she has a record?”

  Jess nodded. That’s exactly what I meant.

  Veronique gave her an odd look. “I will definitely do a search for you, if you’d like. Do you have her name?”

  “It’s Morana Longina.” Jess dug into her pocket and pulled out a fork, making Veronique’s eyebrows arch inquisitively.

  “This is a piece of cutlery Britt swiped from the café where we met her tonight. She didn’t eat, but she kept touching the fork. I’m not sure if you have the time or resources to check this for me. . . . But I was hoping you might.” Jess sighed. “I know it’s not much to go on.”

  “Not much at all, but you know I love a challenge,” Veronique said. “I’ll check EURODAC to see if anything shows on her prints.”

  Jess stood.

  “It was nice to meet you, Monsieur Brittain.” Veronique winked at him. “I have the strange feeling this won’t be our last meeting.”

  “Honestly, we’re just on vacation,” Jess argued, although she understood what Veronique meant. Dyed-in-t
he-wool cops like her didn’t take lengthy vacations. They found it too hard to leave the job behind. She clenched her teeth. She’d love to tell her friend about the dangerous shadows in the old part of the city, but if she did that, she’d have to also explain about vampires, angels, and other paranormal entities she wasn’t allowed to talk about as part of the New York City Special Forces unit.

  Once they were back outside again in the soft Parisian night air, Britt grabbed her hand and squeezed it. He’d dressed in civvies tonight—jeans and a T-shirt—not his fighting clothes. They probably looked like typical lovers strolling the streets of Paris as they walked along.

  “How are your feet now?” she asked casually. “Do you have any residual pain or problems from your attack last night?”

  “None,” he said. “Though I might be getting a blister from these new shoes.” He looked at her wistfully. “I wish I knew more about my Fallen abilities, Jess. That blue light comes in handy, but it’d be even better if I actually knew how it worked.”

  “Even though we don’t understand it, it seems to help you when you most need it. That’s almost as good as knowing,” she said.

  “For a vampire who’s supposed to be dark and broody, you’re pretty optimistic tonight, doll,” Britt said. “And . . . on an optimistic note, why don’t we go home? We have a little catching up to do.”

  “But what about the scenery?” she asked, pointing at the small boats moored along the Seine. She loved to torture him.

  “There’s only one scene I’d like to see, and that’s you, naked in my arms,” he whispered against her ear just as another couple passed them on the street.

  “What do you say we put a rush on and get home quickly, then, handsome?” she said, still feeling the tingle of heat on her earlobe.

  Minutes later, Jess locked the door and turned to find Britt already removing his shirt.

  BRITT BRUSHED HIS mouth against hers, barely a touch, but it heated her instantly. He didn’t mind her cool flesh, but when it became warm at his touch, it was a definite turn on.

 

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