Graves of Wrath

by Lina Gardiner

  “I’m confused. How could this be? How could a cop be accused of murder if the person wasn’t dead?”

  “Well, he appeared dead, you see.”

  “He was in a coma?”

  “Not exactly, but something like that.”

  Veronique threw her pen onto the desk, and Jess froze. This conversation was going south, fast.

  While Veronique rubbed a hand over her face, Jess stretched her neck back and looked at the ceiling, noting it was full of pencils. Veronique had been throwing things, too.

  “The way things look right now, I’m afraid your friend, Monsieur Brittain, is going to have to stay here.”

  “You’re making a mistake, Vee. Britt did not kill that woman.”

  “And you know this, how?”

  “I know him. He’s not a murderer.”

  Veronique shook her head. “Good. Hopefully, the evidence will prove him innocent. Until then, he stays here.”

  Jess clamped her teeth together. She had little recourse. It went against protocol, but she was going to find out if she could share some very, very controlled information with the French Captain. She stood and pulled out her cell phone. “Do you mind if I make a phone call to my boss? There’s something you need to know, but I can’t tell you unless I get permission.”

  Veronique nodded, but she was frowning. “I knew there was something more going on here,” she said.

  Jess talked to the chief for about fifteen minutes in the hallway. He was reluctant at first, but given the fact that Britt was in serious trouble, he decided the truth might help. “But make sure you swear her to secrecy, understand? We can’t have this getting out,” the chief said.

  “Understood, sir,” Jess said and hung up.

  She returned to the office and shut the door behind her, leaving Regent in the hall where he preferred to wait.

  Veronique sat with her elbows on her desk. She’d shoved her hair back behind her ears, and had a fresh pen in her mouth like it was a cigarette.

  “If I share secret information about the New York police department, can you keep it between us?” she asked.

  Veronique yanked the pen out from between her teeth. “Possibly. It depends on what you’re going to tell me.”

  Jess sighed. “I hope you agree, because I’m putting more than one person’s ass on the line by sharing this with you.” Then Jess proceeded to give her a bare bones rundown of their black ops secret unit of vampire hunters in the New York City Police Department. She told her Britt’s ex-partner had been a vampire. Britt couldn’t have killed him because technically, he was already dead.

  Veronique’s expression didn’t change. She took in the information with a blank countenance that surprised even Jess.

  Jess considered the fact that Veronique might think she was insane. That wouldn’t help Britt, either.

  She had no recourse. She lowered her head and let her teeth grow and her eyes darken. But when she raised her head to prove there were vampires, Veronique was smiling.

  Chapter Eight

  STANDING IN ONE of the tunnels, Morana waited at the back of the crowd. The scent of blood permeated the air. The police had stopped her patrons from leaving, taking statements, before letting anyone pass.

  She looked around. Where was her co-worker, Diesel? The scent of blood would be too strong for most vampires to handle without giving away their true nature, so she hurried back to the bar to warn him to stay inside LaCave until it was safe.

  She pulled the bar doors shut behind her and looked around the place. Diesel wasn’t here. Strange. She was sure he’d been at the bar when she’d left. In fact, everything should have been cleaned up by now. But it wasn’t.

  She started jamming dirty dishes in the dishwasher angrily.

  If the police didn’t manage to finish up before sun-up in two hours, she’d be staying the night here. But that was fine. There were many secret passages—places no humans could find—and she’d set herself up with a little security nest years ago, just in case. On the other hand, if they were monitoring who came and went, she’d have to leave via the same route as the humans.

  She pushed the button on the commercial dishwasher and set it to work, then put her special blend of tea away in the locked vault. When she turned to wipe off the countertop, Diesel was sitting on a stool, staring at her.

  She didn’t react. It took a hell of a lot to scare her. “Where the shit have you been?” she asked.

  “I might ask you the same.”

  The way Diesel’s spiky blue-black hair swept off to the side always reminded her of a cartoon character. “I came back to warn you not to go into the tunnel. There’s a dead girl down there and a lot of blood.”

  Diesel looked coldly into Morana’s eyes. “How is it you can handle the scent of all that blood without giving yourself away to the cops?”

  “If I told you, I’d have to kill you,” she said, making an attempt at humor.

  He didn’t catch on to humor easily.

  “Seriously, Morana. Do you have some trick that I don’t know about? If you do, you really should share. Aren’t I your friend?”

  Not that good a friend, buddy. “If I had some deep, dark secret, of course I’d share,” she lied. She was good at lying.

  “Riiiight,” Diesel said, dragging the word out in a way that told her he didn’t believe a word of it. Maybe he was smarter than she thought.

  Diesel leaned over the bar then glanced back over his shoulder, most likely to make sure the room was empty. “How was she killed? Did a vamp do it?”

  “How should I know? I didn’t get that close,” she said. “Sometimes humans are worse ghouls than us. They can’t wait to get a look at a gruesome corpse. Besides, I was pretty far back. I just came here to warn you.”

  “Do you think the cops will question us?” he asked.

  “Probably.”

  “What about the other bartenders, and everyone else in the club?”

  She pulled at the gold ring at the top of her ear. “Too late. Everybody’s gone. The killer, too, most likely,” she said, eyeing him suspiciously.

  Diesel slapped a bejeweled hand onto the bar. His fingers bore pewter rings of the most descriptive sort. Skulls and crossbones, types of metal that glistened like oil. “Fix me a drink, will you?” he said, gruffly.

  Morana glared at him. This show of bravado was unusual for him. And it’s not like he can’t make his own drink. “The cops could walk in here at any moment. Do you really think you should be sitting here, drinking a glass of warm blood?”

  “I’m thirsty. I’ll hide it if they come in.”

  His eyes were getting blacker and his fangs had started to protrude.

  She’d have to weigh things out. Of course, they could always explain away the vampire trappings as makeup for his nightshift. The blood, however, wouldn’t be so easily explained.

  “Oh hell, all right. I’ll get it for you.” She went to the cavern wall and opened a locked panel that was almost invisible to the naked eye. She yanked out a bottle of blood and poured two fingers into a glass, then slid it toward him. “Down it!”

  He drank quickly while she closed the panel. As soon as he finished, he reached over the bar, opened the dishwasher, and shoved the glass onto the top rack, then turned it on again.

  He hadn’t finished too soon. Almost immediately afterward, the police came in, asking questions. Diesel had a drop of blood on his lip and Morana wiped her own to tip him off.

  He caught on and swiped his mouth clean.

  “Good evening,” Morana said to a tall, slim detective with blond hair and blue eyes. The thing she liked best about tall men was that their necklines were columns of muscle, with arteries just waiting to be tasted. This man’s neck was especially long and lovely. She’d have liked nothing better than
to sink her teeth into him while he screwed her brains out.

  “Bonjour, madame,” he said.

  “It’s mademoiselle, cherie,” she replied, making a flush rise up his neck. Hmmm, maybe she’d get to taste that neck, after all.

  “Have you heard about the murder in the tunnel?” he asked.

  “We were told that there was someone dead out there, but we have no idea who it is,” Morana said. “Right, Diesel?”

  He nodded quickly.

  The cop described the dead woman. She realized it was the blonde who’d been making a play for Britt before Jess turned up.

  “I know who you mean. She was effervescent,” Diesel said. “And, yes, we probably both waited on her at the bar. She was very thirsty.”

  “Did you see her sitting with a tall, dark-haired man this evening?”

  Morana whipped her head around to stare at the cop again. She knew exactly who he was talking about. “You mean, John Brittain?” she asked, maybe a little too innocently because Diesel narrowed his eyes and glared at her.

  The officer glanced at her before turning his attention back to his notepad. “Exactly. Do you know him?”

  “I know his name, at least. And yes, he was with a group of partiers. He spent most of his time talking to a blonde woman who fits your description. You didn’t mention whether she had big . . . ?” She held her hands up as if to cup her breasts.

  “Yes, that’s the one,” he said, flushing again. She read his nametag. It was Bourgeois.

  “Did they seem to be a couple?” he asked.

  “I don’t know. He spent quite a while with her,” Morana said, avoiding the bit about his friendship with her own possible twin sister.

  She certainly didn’t want to implicate herself in any way. Being arrested and stuck in a cage with the possibility of sunlight flowing in during the day wouldn’t be good for her skin.

  “Where are the other bartenders?” Bourgeois asked.

  “They always leave an hour before closing,” she said. “Diesel and I finish up the last hour alone.”

  “We will need their names, as well,” the detective said.

  “If you give me your email address, I’ll send them to you, as soon as I can,” she said. “It’ll take me some time to gather them up.”

  He looked like he’d balk at that suggestion. She narrowed her gaze on him for a second, coming close to showing her stubborn side. She didn’t have time to do office work. It was getting too close to dawn.

  He waved his hand to dismiss the urgency. “That’ll be acceptable,” he said.

  He grilled both of them for a while longer, but since they had no further information to offer, he finally turned to go.

  She shared a relieved glance with Diesel, just before the officer paused near the doorway. Suddenly, he made his way back and held out a hand to her. She betrayed nothing while he handed her his card. “My email address,” he said. “And my phone number.”

  She smiled at him coyly. “Yes, thank you. I’ll definitely get back to you.”

  He looked her up and down, his gaze resting on the curvaceous outline of her breasts. “Please do that.”

  After he left, Diesel shook his head in disgust. “Christ, he was practically salivating over your chest. Were you compelling him?”

  “No. And for your information, I don’t have to compel men to make them notice me.” She pushed up her breasts and inhaled. “And, I’m great in the sack.”

  “Well, since I’m not into your type, I didn’t notice,” Diesel said, sounding miffed. He’d had a crush on her since day one, and she knew it. She liked having a panting vampire at her beck and call. She’d have sex with him some day. But for now, he was too useful as a wanting and willing best friend. Up to this point, she’d never actually had sex with another vampire. She imagined they’d have pretty impressive stamina, but she didn’t want to share her special blood with any of them.

  “I’m going to bed,” Diesel said, as if he couldn’t bear another minute in her presence. She grinned again. Oh yes, she’d have him lapping at her if she allowed it.

  They needed to leave. She knew the police would be monitoring the place, and if they hung around, the cops would be curious. She didn’t need any more cops sniffing around her bar.

  “C’mon Diesel, let’s leave together,” she said. “We need to let the police see us exit the tunnel.”

  “How do you know they’re watching the place?”

  She tipped her head at the other vampire and shook her head. He could be a little slow-witted at times. “Oh, they’re watching. And, they will be for a while. So don’t get too thirsty over the next little while or you’ll be caught.”

  Diesel frowned at her. “I didn’t kill that girl!”

  “Okay, take it easy. I’m just trying to protect you.”

  He slammed the club door shut and locked it behind them. “Sometimes, I could really dislike you,” he said.

  She reached over and slid one hand along his upper thigh. “You don’t mean that.”

  She heard his teeth gritting. Poor bastard.

  BACK AT THE precinct, Jess was still waiting for Veronique to appear shocked or afraid at the sight of her vampirism. Instead, the captain merely picked up the phone and dialed.

  “Don’t forget. You promised to keep this secret,” Jess said, eyeing Veronique as she waited for someone to answer the phone at the other end.

  “Calm yourself, Jess. You’ll understand why I’m doing this in a moment.” A moment later, someone obviously came on the line. Veronique spoke quickly and it sounded to Jess as though Veronique had summoned someone to her office.

  Jess quickly reverted back to her human form when the office door opened. She’d deny anything she’d told Veronique, if she had to.

  A ruddy-faced, plump man with thick shrub-like hair entered and shut the door behind him. “Oui?”

  “Pierre Sirois, I want you to meet Jess Vandermire. She works for a special unit of the New York City police force.”

  Jess was about to deny everything when Pierre turned his gaze on her and his eyes went directly to her mouth. Was he checking for fangs?

  “What’s going on, Vee? You promised secrecy.”

  “This is a secret we’re also about to share, my friend,” she said. “We have a very similar unit to yours. Pierre here is my second in command.”

  “Non!” Pierre said. “You’re kidding me. You have a vampire unit in the United States, aussi?”

  Jess inhaled deeply. She’d only been sanctioned to talk to Veronique about this, but if they had the same kind of unit, it would be a wonderful opportunity for the two countries to share intelligence. “I’m asking you to keep this in the strictest of confidence,” she said to Pierre.

  He nodded vigorously. He looked almost excited at the prospect. “Yes, of course. And we would ask the same of you.”

  Jess nodded. Sure, vampires came from Europe, but she’d honestly never considered that another police force might have a similar unit. Why hadn’t she considered it? When she got home, she’d definitely create a task force to find other units like this in the world. She hated being at this kind of disadvantage.

  “I wanted to talk to you about it when I was in New York,” Veronique said. “I thought you might be working on such a project, but I wasn’t sure enough to risk it.”

  “I wish you had. Think of the intelligence we could have shared.”

  “Oui, but we have stringent rules about that. The promise of reciprocity changes things, now.”

  “The thing is, John Brittain is my lieutenant,” Jess said. “He’s the best human vampire-hunter in North America. He has abilities that are unique.”

  “And they are?”

  “I cannot share that information with you. Let’s just say, he’d never murder a human
.”

  “So you also think this was a vampire killing?” Veronique asked. Jess didn’t like the way Veronique asked the question. It was almost as if she suspected Jess, herself.

  “I’m afraid I have no idea. I haven’t seen the body,” she said, making sure her voice held enough contempt to warn Veronique not to push her too far.

  “Oui, je comprends. But it’s the gruesome nature of the killing that makes the vampire unit interested in what’s going on in the catacombs.”

  “On the phone, Britt told me the woman was sliced open with precision. Vampires aren’t known for using knives,” Jess said. “And I can tell you that Britt is definitely not a vampire.”

  Veronique nodded. “I agree. He doesn’t have the traits I look for.”

  Jess wondered what those traits were, but she doubted Veronique would share, so she didn’t bother to ask. “Then, why do you think vampires might be involved?”

  Veronique sighed. “The catacombs hold power over people. We have to consider they might also be a haven for other dark entities. With that in mind, we keep our eyes and ears open whenever something unusual happens down there.”

  The words other dark entities made Jess think about the shadows. Was Veronique’s team aware of them, as well?

  She had to keep that a secret for now. In order to tell the whole story, she’d have to admit that Britt, the progeny of a fallen angel, had managed to save himself from the horrible injuries the shadows had caused him.

  “Are there other evil entities besides vampires down there?”

  Veronique’s expression quickly became closed and her mouth pursed. “Probably not.”

  “But you hinted earlier that there might be.”

  Veronique’s face screwed up. “There’s something about the tunnels lately. It’s a gut feeling on my part—something feels wrong. It’s not very scientific or even professional, if you want to think of it that way. But, sometimes, I wonder if there are other dark things lurking down there. I’ve tried to convince the Prefecture de Police de Paris that we should close the catacombs. Stop the tourists’ visits. But no one will listen to me. The business of the catacombs is too lucrative, and the more we try to stop cataphiles from going down there, the more cachet it has.”