Why do I feel so guilty?
She grabbed her legal pad and continued to write the letter she had started earlier.
Dear Christian,
I was hoping you might reconsider your position and speak to me just one more time. I am happy to come to the Grey Wolf.
Amanda
Christian found himself impatiently pacing his living room waiting for Michel to come out of his bedroom for the evening.
“Things are really bad when you are pacing, my friend.” Michel joked as he closed the French doors behind him. Christian could not let go of the hilt of his machete, pressed against his chest. As he spoke he kept his eyes on the carpet as he told Michel everything, leaving out the part about Eve accompanying him to Zero Hour. Michel would only chastise him for stooping so low as to get Eve involved in their affairs and he just wasn’t in the mood for it.
On more than one occasion, Michel reminded him how ironic he found it that while Christian so vehemently vowed not to interfere in the mortal world he could not help himself when it came to Amanda Perretti. Christian rationalized his covetousness and especially now with Gaétan here in New York he felt justified to snooping around in her personal life. What he called protecting, Michel kindly referred to as stalking.
“I am not stalking her, Michel. I am watching over her. There’s a difference,” he snapped.
“I just don’t see one my friend. It’s as if you are in love with her. Are you Christian?”
Christian stopped, shocked at his directness. He half wondered if Michel was joking, but his serious face and quizzical gaze spoke otherwise. Christian tried to avoid looking him in the eye and began to pace again.
Michel gently grabbed his friend by the shoulders. “How do you feel about her?”
“I can’t have her … it’s … incestuous. You know that.”
“That is not what I am asking you … Putting that aside—”
“There is no putting that aside, Michel. I fathered Solange. Amanda is her descendant. How can you even think of such a thing? Christ, we are vampires, not monsters!”
Michel ran a hand through his dark hair, his bright eyes suddenly clouded over, as if all life was drained out of him. In all the centuries of their friendship, he had seen Michel cry only once and even then, he never explained what had upset him so. This was different. Christian felt as though Michel was reliving a memory that was too painful to speak of.
“What is it?” Christian whispered. He could not imagine what would have Michel so shaken. Then the unimaginable crossed his mind. “It’s not Amanda, nothing’s happened—”
“No, dear God,” Michel choked. “She’s fine my friend.”
Christian stepped back, afraid of his own emotions. Michel straightened his Dior embroidered jacket before he continued.
“I understand the danger Amanda is in from Gaétan. A strike is inevitable, but there is something I must tell you now, before things get… even more complicated …I know that the heart wants what it wants without reproach or reason—”
Christian grabbed him by his lapels. “Are you trying to tell me you want her?” He hissed, a knot forming in his stomach.
“Christ no,” Michel snapped. “All I am saying is … it’s like the night you met Josette on the Pont Neuf, remember? Your passion for each other was palatable to anyone watching you both.”
Christian stared into the dark eyes of his best friend.
“I see it happening with Amanda. Don’t deny it, Christian …” He stepped back.
“What is it Michel?”
“Josette made me promise.” Michel stared past him out the window.
At the mention of her name, memories flooded Christian. Happiness and pain woven together, and then one surfaced. Christian remembered wanting so much to surprise her. Luc Delacore had been away for a fortnight and he had felt the anticipation of having her to himself. He could see himself racing up the stairs into her luxurious apartment near the royal palace in Paris on a bitterly cold March night. It had been snowing hard.
As he entered the salon he had heard her arguing with someone. She was trying to keep her voice low, but with his superior hearing he had clearly heard her fighting, but with whom? As he moved past the ornate Louis XVI furniture and slipped toward her bedroom door, Michel had emerged with Solange on his hip. Christian had been so startled that he had gasped aloud. The crying two-year-old was being comforted by Michel and Christian felt like an intruder watching his friend coddle the child in front of the roaring fire place.
Then Josette had come out of her boudoir behind him. Her beautiful dark hair hung around her shoulders and the dress she wore was everyday, not one of the gorgeous gowns Christian had bought her.
She seemed nervous, embarrassed, and guilty. Michel had begun to joke; begging Christian to go out carousing with him, while Josette had taken Solange and excused herself.
Christian had tried to quell the unsettling feeling of something he would not admit, but felt in every ounce of his being. It had been as though he was a spectator, stepping into an intimate moment in the life of a married couple, yet he had thought Josette and Michel were barely acquaintances. When Michel had left to go gambling for the evening, he had stood alone at the fireplace, watching the snow fall, sensing there had been much more between them. Michel had never explained his presence that night and Christian had never asked him for the truth.
“What is it she made you promise, Michel?”
As he asked, he realized that he already knew the truth, just as he had sensed something that night in Josette’s apartment. Even that surreal night when both vampires said good-bye to her, he had felt their desire for each other through the smoke and flames. Christian had tried to ignore it, had hoped that time would diminish its power to hurt him.
Michel cleared his throat then blessed himself. “You are not Solange’s father, Christian. She had an indiscretion … with Gaétan …”
Christian stared at him in disbelief.
“Josette knew Solange was his, but she came to me for help since she could not go to him or to you. She feared your wrath. I listened as she weighed it all and in the end she decided to keep the child and say nothing until she was forced to give her up. We both knew you would be the responsible one and you would take care of her.”
Michel wiped the corner of his eye.
Christian had to sit down, feeling sick to his stomach.
“I’m sorry. I never wanted to betray her or hurt you. Josette knew you would never forgive her for …seeing Gaétan again, but she also knew you would take good care of Solange, and you did better than that Christian. You have taken care of them all.”
“I loved her and trusted her above all others …” Christian whispered. “An indiscretion? Oh my God and no one ever told me?”
“Please do not judge her.” Michel asked, sitting down beside him.
“I am such a fool Michel …”
“No. You are and always have been incredibly loyal to those you love. It made you so happy to follow all these crazy mortals around and it seemed to give you a mission, Christian, and you always needed a purpose in life.”
He rubbed Christian’s shoulder and he knew Michel was right. He could never tolerate feeling adrift, even as a youth in Meudon, he always worked, always had plans for his day.
“All these years I thought I was preserving something that was mine by rights. How could she sneak around behind my back, especially with him?”
“I don’t know what was in her heart, but I do believe their liaison was short-lived. I can’t imagine you would be pleased, no matter who she was … who she was sleeping with.”
“And Gaétan … if he fathered Solange then he seduced his own daughter?”
Michel shrugged, staring at the ground. “Perhaps he had no idea. But we cannot change any of it, Christian. It’s all ancient history as they say.”
He smiled and the sparkle in his light eyes returned. He never failed to mesmerize Christian.
“Th
is is true, but Amanda has no idea that our past is coming for her. Am I alone in trying to save her life?”
Michel hugged Christian before the other vampire could react. “You amaze me, my friend. She is nothing to you and yet you continue to honor your promise. You never lost your humanity.”
Lost in thought, Christian wondered how Gaétan would strike and if he was he alone. Then another nagging thought made his heart ache. Was the child really Gaétan’s or was it Michel’s? He had lived his life wondering if they were lovers and yet never able to face that possible truth. It would have changed how he felt about both Josette and Michel and Christian was honest enough to know he would never be able to forgive them. Their indiscretion would have destroyed him then so it was less painful to live a lie.
Chapter Fourteen
ROSS PUT HIS phone on speaker as one message after another droned on. Open case files covered his desk underneath his usual dinner of Chicken Quesadillas. The last message was from Christian. It was urgent which made his stomach knot. Something was up and Ross did not understand it which meant it made him angry. It started last summer with Ryan Perretti’s gruesome murder and continued with the splay of files on his desk. What linked them to these vampires Ross could not even imagine, but there was a connection.
Although he liked Christian, Ross tried to keep a healthy distance from the other vampires, especially Michel. It was not that he did not get along with Michel. It was more like Michel was a guard dog, forever protecting Christian, although he needed no protecting. Christian refuted Ross’s perception that Michel was jealous of their friendship.
Something was happening in a world Ross had only touched on through his friendship with Christian. It was more than supernatural, it was super scary and he preferred to be left out of their business. Vampires monitored their own affairs and remained phantoms in his city which was fine with Ross, but when their prey ended up in a file on his desk, then the lines became blurred and he was forced to investigate.
The body count was growing as the corpses of more homeless people were turning up. Though he had to admit it was alarming, the only thing keeping the city off his back was the fact that the bodies were nameless, faceless indigents. Amanda was right. Nobody gave a crap. Though Ryan was murdered violently, the fact that he was homeless and a heroin addict put him at the bottom of the priority list. His murder would never be solved because there were too many others to take its place.
He had just taken a sip of his coffee and was about to call his girlfriend Melinda, when he felt them enter his office like a wisp of smoke under the door. The overhead switch went off. His desk lamp shed the only light in his office. The growing knot in his stomach just got tighter.
“Detective,” Christian purred as he sat down in the wooden chair facing Ross’s desk. Michel stood beside him in a floor-length black leather coat. Ross instinctively called the front desk and asked them to hold his calls. He leaned back in his chair and took a sip of his coffee and a deep breath. Melinda would have to wait.
“To what do I owe the honor, gentlemen?”
Christian crossed one leg over his knee. “We need your help.”
“You need my help?” He chuckled, taking another sip of coffee. “What is it, another body in a dumpster?”
Neither vampire laughed. He put his coffee cup down and decided to go with his hunch.
“Does this have something to do with all the bodies turning up in the park because I could use some help here myself.” He gestured to the files strewn all over his desk.
“Indirectly, yes.” Christian flipped his hair behind him. “After we met the other night, I patrolled the entire park looking for anything unusual. I ran across an acquaintance … another vampire, who told me an interesting story. Apparently he has made friends with some of the indigents and is panicked now that they are disappearing at such an alarming rate.”
Michel interrupted his best friend. “It seems there is a vampire named Thomas who has scared the shit out of some of our kind, which isn’t an easy thing to do. Our friend Peter said this vampire just showed up one night.”
“Well,” Ross shrugged, “if you know who he is, why can’t you take care of him?” He took another sip of coffee and put the lid on to keep it warm.
Christian folded his arms across his chest. “It’s not that simple, Ross.”
Ross studied their masklike faces. He knew full well that nothing was simple in their world. “What am I missing here?”
Michel moved to sit on the edge of his desk, his long legs melting into the shadows. “He’s both a night and a day walker.”
Ross instinctively reached for a cigarette then stopped himself. “What?” He looked to Christian for validation.
“You remember meeting Peter, Ross? He told me that Thomas has been approaching the homeless men in broad daylight.”
Ross had met Peter briefly one night when he was walking with Christian in Central Park. He had had a hard time believing he was a vampire until he picked up a park bench and threw it twenty feet into the air just to demonstrate his prowess. Ross had been duly impressed.
“But I thought it was impossible for vampires to be in the sunlight?”
“We are wondering if Thomas may be a vampire whose real name is Gaétan. Someone, Michel and I knew a long time ago in France. If my hunch is correct then he is responsible for ordering the death of Ryan Perretti and we believe he is now here to slaughter Amanda.”
Ross leaned back again. “So why would a vampire from Paris come all to our fair city to murder homeless people, I mean there must be plenty of them in Paris?”
“It’s a complicated story, Detective.” Michel twirled a strand of his hair.
“I think he works in the Met, Ross—” Christian blurted out.
“The Metropolitan Museum of Art?” Ross shook his head in disbelief. He looked between both vampires.
They stared back at him intently. They weren’t joking.
“Not to burst your bubble, but even if I found this guy, I don’t have the right to question him without just cause. This is America, remember.”
“I know that. I watch CSI and Law & Order.” Michel snapped.
“What if I gave you a sketch of him?” Christian asked. “You must have some contacts in the museum? Couldn’t you say he was being investigated for…. I don’t know, something criminal?”
“What about Ms. Perretti?” Ross smiled. “I am sure she would be more than willing to assist you in your investigation.”
“She is already involved enough. There has to be a way to get you in there, Ross.”
Michel sat down in the other chair in front of Ross’s desk, causing Ross to sit back out of fear. “Commit a robbery. Our good friend Detective Ross would have to investigate.”
Ross shook his head. “I never heard you say that, Michel.”
Christian sat down again, too. “Wait a minute, Ross, Michel has a point. He’s there, I can feel it. We just have to flush him out.”
“Christian, listen to me—”
“No, you listen to me, Detective. We’ll do our part and don’t worry. Whatever I take will be returned—”
“I don’t want to know, Christian.”
Christian reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a yellow envelope then tossed it across the desk.
Ross opened it carefully after he pulled a pair of reading glasses out of his top shirt pocket.
“He’s young and innocent-looking, but he’s a monster, Detective.” Michel pointed over the detective’s shoulder.
“Definitely boyish looking, yeah check out those dimples,” Ross joked. The young man in the drawing was model handsome. He had a wide sensual mouth and a devilish smile. His light hair, parted in the middle, fell to his shoulders brushing a lace collar.
“What color are his eyes? How tall is he?” Ross asked grabbing a legal pad.
“His eyes are brown and he’s only 5’7”.” Michel answered smugly.
“This is professional quality, Chri
stian. Who did this?”
Michel grabbed the sketch from the detective and pointed to Christian. “He was a rich painter with a studio on the Rue de Rivoli.”
Christian grabbed the sketch and handed it back to Ross. “Is this enough to go on? He would look exactly the same, only his clothes would be different.”
“Yeah, I think I could make a positive ID based on this likeness.”
“Good.” Christian smiled, towering over Ross. “Don’t get too close to him. Just try to get an address on him, find out what he does in the museum, anything we could go on. He has to be living somewhere. Don’t try to be heroic. If he can read you, you’re dead.”
Ross looked up at the towering vampires sheepishly. “How will I know if he can read me?”
“He’ll rip your throat out,” Michel chuckled. “You won’t stand a chance.”
Once they were gone, Ross slumped down in his chair, and stared at the drawing, wondering how he had gotten involved in their lives again. Suddenly he gagged and almost missed his waste paper basket.
Chapter Fifteen
AMANDA HAD GIVEN herself twenty-four hours and then decided it was time, yet as she peered out of the idling cab across the street from the Grey Wolf she suddenly had doubts. She had vowed to give it one more chance, and if Christian rejected her … well, she would think up something else. The biting wind stung her face as she ran across the street in her high heels.
She felt overdressed, but had feared she would lose her nerve if she stopped at home to change, so she pulled her long wool coat around her to hide her suit. There was no one out front, so she took a deep breath and opened the door. It was early by club standards, only nine o’clock. Loud music blared from the main bar as she scanned the room quickly.
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