Graves of Wrath

by Lina Gardiner

  A noise on the roof above alerted Jess, and she sensed what it was immediately. A vampire . . . and not a friendly one. She glanced quickly at Britt, and his hand was already inside his jacket, reaching for his stake.

  “Don’t move,” Morana said. “He might go away.”

  Jess laughed. “They don’t usually go away unless we send them back to hell.”

  Gasping as dramatically as any actor, Morana asked, “Is that what you do in your country? You seriously kill your own kind?”

  Jess instantly stopped paying attention to the vamp on the roof and turned her gaze on Morana. Short of telling her to stop the dramatics, Jess bit her tongue and measured her words. “I do. If you have a problem with that, you can leave.”

  Morana didn’t take her eyes off the roof as she replied in a caustic voice, “There are a few vampires in France I wouldn’t mind getting rid of, now that you mention it. I’ve never actually considered killing them, though, since the elders would frown on it. I’m not sure how you get away with it in your country.”

  “Maybe because we don’t have any elders to speak of.”

  Morana’s gaze left the roof for a split second, excitement evident in her eyes. “That would be a definite plus.” The smile that crossed her features looked about as evil as any she’d seen on vampires in New York. In an instant, Jess believed Morana wanted the same thing as those heartless creatures—self-gratification and power. If that was true, Regent would be devastated to learn that Morana was bad to the bone.

  Worse, she might have just decided to become a landed immigrant.

  The vampire overhead didn’t drop down among them like Jess expected. This one climbed down the side of the building like a lizard. Or a bat.

  He was thin, gaunt, and had stringy black hair that fairly dripped onto his shoulders. His eyebrows were massive and curled at the points like a mustache with wax on it. His teeth were bared for their benefit.

  If vampires didn’t run around killing other vamps in this city, what did this one want?

  She inhaled and tipped her head ever-so-slightly back to peruse the roof again. Vampires lined the roof. No wonder he wasn’t nervous about being outnumbered—he wasn’t alone.

  “Stand down, Britt,” she said under her breath. “This is one fight we won’t win the normal way.” Luckily, if things got ugly, Britt could easily wipe them all out with a mere thought.

  “What do you want, Vin?” Morana asked the vampire, venom evident in her voice.

  “We want it known that we had nothing to do with the killings in the catacombs.”

  “Why are you telling us?” Jess asked, instantly curious. Why would they care what anyone thought?

  Wait a minute—she knew exactly why they wanted this information known. They feared retribution from the black ops vampire hunting unit of the Paris police. Apparently, no matter how much Veronique denied it, someone still killed vampires in the city.

  “There’s no need to send out hit squads,” the vampire said. “We’re complying with the rules of engagement set out by the hierarchy.”

  “The what?” Jess asked. Hit squads? “Who is the hierarchy?”

  “The oldest of us. They’ve always been the leaders and they’ve managed to keep a fragile peace with humans in the city.” He turned to Morana. “You tell her, Morana. Tell her the truth,” Vin said.

  Morana hissed out an irritated breath. “Vin, you always were a bastard. Now you’re a simpering coward, as well.”

  The vampire stretched his shoulders back and seemed to grow in height until he hovered over Morana.

  Jess took a fighting stance, just in case.

  “I’m no fucking coward, bitch, and you know it. Someone is trying to cause a war and we’re not going to be part of it.”

  “Why are you telling this to me?” Morana asked, looking at her blood-red fingernails as if she didn’t give a damn.

  “Not you. That one, who looks like you.” The vampire pointed an ancient finger at Jess. “She is the one working with the police.”

  Morana’s head snapped around, and she narrowed an angry gaze on Jess. “She is?”

  “I am,” Jess said. “What’s wrong with that? Britt and I are police officers.”

  “My own sister!” Morana said.

  “That’s yet to be determined,” Jess reminded her. Sampson would verify the facts for her before she’d trust one word this woman said.

  “Sister?” Vin said. “Does the council know about this?” He looked panicked suddenly. “You’re not twins? You can’t be.”

  Morana looked like she might go helter-skelter on him. Jess suspected the vampire had let something slip that Morana didn’t want them to know. What was the council? Vampires, with some sort of pact with the police? If so, they’d never managed anything like that in North America, where vampires were still too young and savage. But with the olde ones? Maybe that’s how they’d existed so long.

  Jess stepped forward, hoping to decelerate things before they blew out of proportion. “I’ll pass on your information,” she said to the vampire.

  She didn’t have to look at Britt to know tension was galloping through him right about now.

  To her surprise, the vampire named Vin backed off. “We have nothing to do with the others, the dark ones seeping out from the ground. They’re not part of us. Tell them that,” he said to Jess again.

  “No one cares about your insignificant vampire frat house or whether you’re joining another group,” Morana said with a vampire-enhanced voice that surprised Jess.

  The vampire rounded on Morana again. “You’ve suddenly gotten a little too confident, haven’t you? If you continue acting like this, you’d better have some heavy hitters backing you, bartender.” Vin loomed over Morana for about two seconds, then slid a quick glance back at Jess, as if he didn’t want her to see him like this.

  For a second, Morana looked like she wanted to slice him open. Both Jess and Britt readied themselves for whatever might come next.

  Instead, Vin shot straight into the air and landed on the roof again. The vampires lining the rooftops stepped back and were gone.

  “Neat trick,” Jess said.

  Morana stomped toward Jess. “I think you and I need to talk.”

  “I agree,” Jess said.

  “Does everyone in France know you work for the police?” Morana said. “What kind of vampire hunts her own kind? It’s hard for me to accept that you could be my sister.”

  “I kill vampires who are a threat to humanity,” Jess said. “It’s my job, and my reason for being. I’m making the planet a better place.”

  “Better for who?” Morana asked. “Humans? What about our kind?”

  Britt’s hand slipped over Jess’s and squeezed in an attempt to calm her. He knew she could easily go ballistic at a comment like that. “We are evil. We don’t deserve to be saved,” she spat.

  “Merde! You really believe that, don’t you?” Morana said.

  “It’s the truth.”

  Britt squeezed her hand again. “Morana. It sounds as if there is some sort of peace pact here in France? Is that true?” he asked.

  “In a way,” she said.

  Unfortunately, it also sounded as if she didn’t agree with the peace. Her eyes were dark, and her teeth had lengthened since Vin had gotten in her face.

  The hardest part of this for Jess was that she realized she could be looking at a reflection of herself. One she hated.

  “It’s a peace that was etched out by the oldest ones. Some of us don’t agree with it. Going hungry to maintain a peace with our food source is no existence.”

  “Why do you have to go hungry?” Jess asked. “I have my own blood supply from donors.”

  “Cold blood from a bag,” Morana said, her mouth turning cruel. “Only the lower cl
asses of vampires do that here. We have clubs with willing patrons. We take warm blood from our food sources.”

  It was Jess’s turn to squeeze Britt’s hand this time—for added strength. “How do you stop the bloodlust from taking over?”

  “Who says we do?” Morana replied caustically.

  “You kill humans?” The muscles in her back clenched. She couldn’t let this woman exist if she willingly took human lives, sister or not. She’d be an abomination.

  Out of pure instinct, Jess extricated her blade and stepped toward Morana.

  “With the high and mighty morals you have, surely you wouldn’t kill your own flesh and blood?” Morana said. “Regent would never forgive you.”

  Jess narrowed her eyes. Morana was a calculating bitch who knew exactly what to say to stop Jess from kicking her ass.

  “Whether you’re a vampire or not, Regent would be very disappointed in you right now, Morana. I’m glad he isn’t here to see this.” Jess turned on her heel to leave.

  “Don’t run away angry,” Morana cried out like a spoiled child. “I don’t kill humans, but I am a damned vampire, okay? Surely you can’t blame me for my anger. Sometimes it’s hard to control.”

  Jess slowed, trying to think of Regent. “I’ll tell you the truth right now. If I give you one more chance, it will only be for my brother. If you screw with me again, I will kill you!”

  Morana’s eyes were black. Jess thought she’d have to break her promise to Regent because it looked like things were about to go south—fast.

  Then, all of a sudden, Morana switched back to her normal self, looking repentant. “I’m very sorry.”

  You’re quite the actress, Morana.

  “When will you bring your forensic anthropologist over to prove our relationship?” Morana asked. Her voice had taken on an innocent tone that was so not her. Jess had watched her working behind the bar. There, she’d had little patience for her human clientele or her vampire co-worker. The fact that she flashed her lashes at Britt before turning to Jess made Jess’s gut clench.

  “Vampirologist,” Jess said through gritted teeth. “I’ve already sent for him. As far as I know, he’ll be here tomorrow.”

  Morana clapped her hands in mock appreciation and Jess felt like retching.

  “Good. We need to get this thing sorted out. I don’t know about you, but I want to know the truth.”

  Hell, yes, Jess wanted the truth. The sooner she could distance herself from this calculating vampire, the better. There was no way this evil bitch could be her twin sister. Wouldn’t she somehow know if it was true?

  “How can I reach you?” Jess asked. “When Dr. Case arrives, that is.” She expected a phone number, at least.

  “You know where I work,” Morana said. “You can find me there every night.”

  “Right.” Jess glanced at Britt. He’d been unusually quiet through the whole episode. She appreciated that he’d been there for backup, but had let her handle possible family matters on her own. Damnation, could she really have a sister?

  Morana glanced at her watch. “Speaking of which, I’m going to be late. I’ll catch you both later,” she said, actually having the nerve to look Britt up and down, as if he was a tasty treat she’d like to nibble on before she left.

  Not if we see you first. Jess couldn’t stop her teeth from grinding together. “We wouldn’t want you to be late for work.”

  Morana narrowed her gaze on Jess now. “Jealous much?” She wore a leather ultra-mini skirt tonight and a low-cut V-neck purple chiffon blouse with a ruffle that had been popular in the sixties. She looked amazing. Truth be known, Jess felt frumpy in comparison and uncharacteristically jealous at the way Morana had just eyed her boyfriend. Crap! She didn’t want to give Morana the satisfaction of getting under her skin.

  “If you have time, come to the club later. We have a band playing tonight—the Dead Zone. They’re very good, by all accounts.” She winked at Britt and sashayed off, making sure her hips waved seductively as she went, as if their antagonistic conversation hadn’t even happened.

  Jess glanced down at her fashionably tatty jeans, simple white T-shirt and leather jacket. Maybe she should think about how she dressed while she was in France. On the other hand, she shouldn’t feel the need to compete with a woman who looked exactly like her.

  “Jess,” Britt said as they strode down the sidewalk at a faster clip than most people could manage. “Slow down. Someone might see us.”

  She slowed immediately. This thing with Morana—was she her sister or wasn’t she?—was making her crazy.

  “Thanks for the reminder,” she said. “I’m letting her get to me.”

  “I’m not surprised. Everything you thought you knew about your family has been turned upside down. But don’t worry. We’ll figure it out.” He grabbed her hand and squeezed. “Listen, do you really believe the vamps have a pact with the police here? Why else would they ask you to pass a message along for them?”

  She hadn’t even been thinking about that. Damn it! She’d been too focused on trying not to kill someone who might be her sister. But she had to get a grip. She was here to help Regent, to stop the shadows. And she couldn’t let Morana distract her.

  Suddenly, Britt staggered, his hand broke contact, and he caught himself by planting a hand on a wall. “Damn, I hate this place. Who knew I’d crave battling good ole New York vampires?”

  “What’s going on with you, Britt? Do you think the shadows affected you?”

  “No. It’s not that. I’m just a bit dizzy.”

  She slowed again, when she realized she’d inadvertently sped up. “You okay now?”

  “Yeah,” he said, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. “The feeling has passed. But I’ve been thinking . . . I don’t think we can trust anyone, even Veronique. She’s holding back on us, too.”

  “Maybe she still considers you a suspect?”

  “It’s not likely, since I was with her when the second killing happened, and they were obviously committed by the same person.”

  They approached Pont Neuf, where the shadows had done a number on Britt’s feet and ankles. She wondered how he’d react to being back here again. She eyed him surreptitiously. If he was nervous, he didn’t show it.

  “I’ve been meaning to tell you . . . I came to the tunnel tonight because I followed a shadow to the crime scene,” she told him.

  “What?” His shoulders stiffened and he turned to her.

  “I followed a shadow. It went through the wall at a catacombs opening near where the body was found. I have the distinct feeling it deliberately went to the murder site. That’s how I found you and Veronique.”

  “That puts a different spin on the murders, doesn’t it? Or a different spin on the shadows. Do you think these things are capable of making a murder look like it was done by a human?”

  “They certainly did major damage to your feet.”

  Britt sighed. “True. But whoever killed those women physically attacked them with a weapon. The shadows don’t have that capability, as far as we’ve seen. Maybe they’re just drawn to death?”

  “Maybe. I did have the feeling they were following me, at one point,” Jess said. She looked into Britt’s eyes. Did he know something about the dark entities that she didn’t? He seemed quite sure the murders hadn’t been done by the shadows.

  “Wait a minute, Britt. Regent said two priests had been possessed by them. What if the killer is a possessed human? That would make our serial killer a lot more insidious.”

  Britt’s jaw tightened and his mouth became a thin line. “Oh God, Jess, I hope that’s not what’s happening here.” He ran a hand across the back of his neck. “Shit! This place is turning out to be my worst nightmare.”

  “Why?”

  “What if I actually did kill that first woman?
I was sure I didn’t, but what if I’d been possessed without knowing it? I remember feeling particularly dizzy that night. Could that be an effect of possession?”

  “But both victims died the same way,” she said. “And you were with Veronique and me at the time of the second murder. I doubt the shadows would possess you, then leave and take over someone else. I have the feeling the possessed don’t get off so easily.”

  His shoulders loosened just a little. “But if these things are controlling the murderers, it makes sense that the killers would use the same methods, right?”

  Jess’s insides churned. Dropping into stasis at dawn would be a reprieve from all of this darkness, especially if Britt actually had been involved against his will. She straightened her back. “No. I don’t believe it. You weren’t possessed; you’re stronger than that,” she said, hoping her words were comforting to him.

  Please, God, let it be true. He couldn’t live with that on his conscience.

  When they got back to the apartment, she said good night and went into her sealed room. She climbed into bed and everything went black. No consciousness. No conscience.

  As a penance, she’d been told she had to stay like this forever. She’d never be one of the lucky vampires who could be saved by a fallen angel, her fallen angel.

  Just as her life began to fade, she felt a cold tear run down her cheek.

  UNFORTUNATELY, when Jess awoke the next evening, she felt the same sense of panic she’d had when she’d died at dawn. Her world was spiraling out of her control. When they’d lived in New York, Britt awakened her with a kiss most mornings. But he’d never done that here. Why not? Was it because her room was an airtight mausoleum, or because he was rarely home when she rose? He’d been distracted since they arrived here, and it wasn’t just because of the shadows, or the murders. He’d reacted to France in an almost visceral way from the moment they’d landed. He’d felt something was off in this city, as did she. Worse, she’d noted it was affecting him physically. He’d become distant and far too serious.

  She was sure he wasn’t aware that he’d changed, and she wasn’t about to tell him. She didn’t want to throw him off stride. But something about Paris had thrown him, and she intended to find out what. She’d give him his autonomy. . . but she’d be here if he needed her.