“I’m ready.”
Jolie wrote down two lists. The first contained the vampyres, and the remaining were the human mates who were also killed.
“I hope that helps,” she offered.
“It will. Just watch your back, Jasmine. We’ll see you at the ball.”
They ended their call with pleasantries, and then Jolie got to work. Just looking at the list and counting the human names, she knew something was definitely up.
Her interest was piqued.
On the human list, there were six individuals. Then, sitting on the coffee table, there just happened to be six files.
Coincidence?
Yeah, not likely.
“I do believe that we have our first significant indication that something fishy is going on with Detective Montclair.”
Flynn snorted. “This is your first indication? I have a laundry list of what’s wrong with him.”
Jacques was with him there.
“What are you thinking?” asked Jacques, from across the room. He was pouring them wine.
While he loved to lounge beside Jolie, he was giving them room. If they were going to play cop, he had no business helping. He wasn’t on the side of law and order.
He was more into…killing.
Both had far more police knowledge than he had.
Flynn understood what was going through her mind. Instead of speaking, he began laying out the folders on the coffee table.
When she stopped him, to rearrange them in a different order, he studied them.
“Do you agree?” she asked.
“I think so.”
Jacques didn't understand.
To help him out, Jolie read off the names of the deceased mates as Flynn flipped open the files.
Jacques got it.
Everything matched.
Eerily, they were already in order. Jolie set them up exactly by the ME’s reports time of death--only she didn't have time to read it.
“How did you know the order?” Jacques questioned, as he watched her face. The woman he loved was in full deviant behavior expert mode. Gone was the creature she was underneath, and in its place was someone who worked often with the police.
Jolie looked up as if she was confused. “I’m sorry?”
“Flynn laid out the files, and you rearranged them. Is there something you see?”
Jolie nodded as she explained her thinking to Jacques. “If I were the killer,” she began.
Flynn started laughing. “Oh, the irony of that statement.”
“Shut it, or I’ll kiss you,” she threatened.
He made kissy noises.
Jolie focused on her other mate. “Again, if I was this killer, I’d go after the men first. We’re assuming the killer attacked at dawn, not knowing who was human and who was the undead. At that time of the day, it’s most likely that everyone was asleep or with death.”
Brogan continued, “She’s right. A killer is going to want to eliminate the strongest of the pair first. A human killer would see the men as the danger.”
Jacques listened, trying to learn from them.
“Because they were the humans, they couldn’t wake the vampyres to warn them.”
Jolie smiled at him, glad he saw what she had seen. He was definitely very good at being a homicide detective. “The killer was far more brutal with the males. Look at the pattern of attack,” she said, sliding the pictures to face him. Then, she pointed out the kill shots that ended their lives. “An outsider would think that the male is the head of our kind, where it isn’t true. We know, because we live in this type of relationship, that the females tend to be more often the main vampyre in the union.”
“I see,” he said, smiling at both of them. It was fascinating to watch them work.
Flynn spoke up, “I agree. Whoever went after these family members hacked the men apart first. Then look at the one female victim. It was one single slice, as if she was killed relatively early. All the other male victims were mutilated.”
He got it. “The killer didn't know any better.”
Flynn examined the crime scene photos. The men had stabs and slices and there were multiple strikes. The woman had one wound, her jugular severed. “With a killer, they get more violent as the attacks progress. I would bet my badge that the woman’s vampyre mate was the first to be killed.”
“The killer assumed the females were less dangerous, the males the target.”
Jacques understood their rationalization. “What are the odds that we have a Detective named Montclair, six bodies of human mates, and six files that all match up?”
“You know how I feel about coincidences. I think we have a detective who is also our hunter. To me, this confirms it.”
Jolie placed her elbows on the table. “I agree. If I were officially working on this, my assessment would be that the killer is human, and very ignorant of vampyre families. It is almost amateurish.”
Flynn pulled her back onto the couch and against his side. “Our killer went in and slaughtered everyone. He was very unaware that there would be humans in the mix.”
Jacques added, “And when they didn't begin to decay?”
That was simple.
“He panicked. This was likely supposed to be a clean kill. Get in, destroy the undead, and then get the hell out. He was under the impression that there wouldn’t be evidence. Now there is. So, he’s set it up to make it look like something it isn’t.”
Jacques was intrigued. “So, you believe there was a…” He searched for a word, “screw-up?”
“Yep, and now he has a trail of bodies,” said Jolie. “He didn’t know enough about us to know that our mates decay to their age. If we died tomorrow,” she began, glancing over at Flynn before continuing, “you wouldn’t die. You’re barely thirty eight in human years. So when the killer struck, he was expected the mates to expire just as quickly as the vampyres.”
“Maybe he’s been out of the game for a while.”
Jolie shrugged, resting her head on Flynn’s shoulder as her hand traced patterns on his jean-clad leg. “Or this is his first big hunt. There weren’t any killings before this one. What if we have a newbie?” she asked.
Flynn hoped so. It would make it easier to take him down.
Oh, and harder for him to figure out what Jolie and Jacques were. That was his main concern
“This had to be his nightmare. Here, he goes in, and being a cop, he knows better. Now he has a shit mess on his hands,” added Flynn.
“Why would Montclair ask for your help, mon amour?” asked Jacques.
Flynn kissed her temple, already knowing the answer, and it made him sick to his stomach.
When Jacques heard this, he was going to lose his mind.
Flynn braced for hearing the words out loud.
“Either to have me bring him to more vampyres, or because he already knows what we are. That could be why he wants me there alone. I may already be on his kill list.”
Jacques began cursing in French.
When he threw his wineglass into the fireplace, Jolie jumped.
“He’s a dead man.”
Jolie wanted to help reassure him. “My love,” she offered, crossing to him. The second her body was wrapped around his, she could feel the tension. “As Flynn will agree, I’m sure, we can likely go with option one. From the mess that he left behind, he isn’t a master criminal. This killer left six bodies when he thought there would be none. This is very sloppy for a hunter or any run of the mill murderer.”
Jolie stared into Flynn’s eyes, begging him to agree with her. While she couldn’t whisper it into his mind, in fear Jacques would hear it, she had to hope…
“She’s right,” he stated. “I wouldn’t worry.”
Jacques relaxed marginally. “Is that your professional opinion, mon ami?”
It took everything Flynn had to keep a neutral face. As he focused on Jolie, he couldn’t let her down. While he hated not being one hundred percent honest with Jacques, he knew their
backs were to the wall. If Jacques lost it, killing Montclair, they could draw attention to themselves.
He had to trust Jolie.
“Yes, it is.”
Jacques nodded, staring into the fire. “If he comes for my mates, I will end his life without thinking twice. No one is going to hurt the people I love.”
They said nothing.
What could either add to that?
CHAPTER Ten
Later That Day
There was nothing like spending time with their younger vampyres. Whenever she did, Jolie was reminded of an innocence she lost so many years ago. Before her, Clariel and Trina sat, and they were having a very hard time not bouncing out of their chairs.
Jolie couldn’t blame them.
After all, they were discussing the Halloween ball, and to a vampyre who had never been to one, it had to be incredibly exciting. The women were giggling and talking really fast.
Jolie had to hide a smile behind her hand.
They were like children.
“I can’t believe that we’re really going to a ball,” said Clariel, gigging. “A costume ball no less!”
“Yes,” Jolie reassured, “we’re all going.”
Trina squirmed in her chair. “Are you sure that we can be whatever we want?” she asked cautiously.
Sitting back, she watched them both. While she through of them as children, they weren’t. They were both beautiful women. Clariel was taller and fine boned, and Trina was more petite with black hair--almost pixie like.
It broke her heart how horribly mistreated they’d been. If giving them a life full of little treasures would heal the wounds, Jolie would willingly do it.
“Yes.”
“We can buy whatever we want at the costume shop?” asked Clariel, again expecting a trick.
“Yes, you may, but there are two conditions,” she stated. Immediately, both vampyres went completely still as if they were waiting for the disappointing blow.
“Okay.”
“The most important one is that you have to go with an escort, and Flynn has graciously agreed to do it. We’re hunted, and I won’t risk you,” she stated. “Acceptable?”
“Yes, Mistress!” The excitement came back as they realized it wasn’t going to be as bad as they had thought. Besides, they truly loved the detective, in a very fatherly kind of way.
“Second is that since Jacques and I won’t be going shopping with you, that you are responsible for our costumes. Agreed?”
“Yes!” answered Trina, already vowing to find their mistress something amazing.
“Under no circumstance are you to allow Flynn to pick out Jacques’s costume.”
There was laughter from the hallway.
Then one of her loves appeared, and from the boyish grin on his face, Jolie knew he’d planned to do just that.
“Flynn,” she warned. “Don’t provoke him.”
He laughed even more as he sipped the beer in his hand.
Jacques was right behind him, holding two glasses of wine. “Over my dead…” Jacques stopped, because he could hear Flynn’s wheels spinning in his head. The man was getting ready to make a comment.
“Come on!” Flynn objected. “I can’t pick out your costume, and now you cut off my witty repartee. This sucks.”
Jacques and Jolie both laughed.
“Well, hell…there goes my fun for this evening.” He winked at Trina, and the vampyre actually blushed. “Here I was picturing him as a giant yard gnome, pointy hat and all.”
Jolie looked over at Jacques and saw him hiding a smile behind his wine glass. “See what I mean, ladies?”
Both vampyres giggled. Jolie was pretty sure they had a giant crush on Flynn, and who could blame them?
She certainly did.
Flynn dropped down beside her on the couch, and immediately Jolie curled into his body. He smelled like expensive aftershave and beer. Jolie was coming to love those two scents. When his hand ran up and down her uncovered arm, Jolie got goose bumps.
Jacques loved watching his mates. From across the room, he could see their human acting more and more like them. His need for contact with their woman was proof of that.
Flynn nuzzled her throat, despite the vampyres watching them. He didn't care. All that mattered in that moment was that he put his scent all over his mate. It was primitive, wild, and something he had no control over.
“Do you care what you wear, Mistress, or do you trust us?”
Jolie knew they’d never do anything to disappoint her. “I absolutely trust you,” she admitted. “It’s Flynn who I doubt.”
He bit her--hard.
Jolie yelped.
The young vampyres gasped.
Jacques laughed.
Reaching into Jolie’s mind, Flynn couldn’t help himself, ‘Darn it. Me and these silly fangs--I’m still learning how to use them.’
She glanced over to give him the look. When he returned it, the tips of his fangs were peeking out from behind his lips, and Jolie couldn’t help but laugh.
‘I love you,’ she whispered.
‘You’re my entire world,’ he vowed.
Again, like children, both women eagerly stared over at the man. “When can we go, Master?”
Flynn looked around and no one was standing behind him, so they must have meant him. “Who?”
The women looked confused.
“Master? Ladies, we’ve had this conversation many times before. I’m just plain old Flynn, or detective.”
“You certainly are,” replied Jacques, toasting him.
Jolie started laughing. “I think you’re anything but plain.” When she tugged him down to her lips, he willingly went. The kiss that followed was pretty amazing--if she did say so herself.
Flynn’s temperature shot up. He almost forgot that they weren’t alone, until he heard some giggles and a sigh from one of the female vampyres.
Slowly, he pulled away. “We’ll finish this later,” he admitted.
Jolie hoped so. Forcing herself to focus, she glanced over at Clariel and Trina. “Where’s Mathew?”
Trina couldn’t look away from her master. He enthralled her. “I think in his room.”
Jolie winked at Jacques. They could both see that Flynn had captivated one of the younger vampyres.
Yeah, Trina had one hell of a big crush.
“I’ll go find him,” Jolie said, extricating herself from Flynn’s embrace. When she turned, that’s when she felt it. The slap on her ass had her staring down at him.
“What?” he asked, trying to keep a straight face.
Jolie sent a barrage of sexy thoughts into his mind. When the beer bottle in his hand shook, that’s when she licked her lips. “You’re playing with fire, Detective,” Jolie purred.
He fanned himself as the laughter bubbled up. “I like fire. We cavemen need it to survive.”
Jolie stroked his rough cheek with gentle fingertips before crossing to Jacques. After sharing a kiss with him, she excused herself from the room and their antics.
She was curious.
Why was Mathew hiding in his room?
At his door, she waited to be invited in, but her knock went ignored. Scanning, Jolie found him on his bed wearing his ear buds. Well, that explained it.
Entering the room, Jolie crossed to the foot of the bed. With her fingertips, she touched his ankle.
“Mathew,” she called at the same time.
The second she made contact with his leg, he jumped off the bed. Mathew turned and hissed at her as he backed himself into the nearest corner.
Then he realized who it was.
“Oh God! I’m sorry!”
Jolie took a step back, giving him space. Her heart broke for him because she remembered the way it once felt. After all, she’d been broken too.
“It’s okay, Mathew. I knocked, but you must not have heard me. I didn't mean to frighten you.”
He stayed crouched against the wall and didn’t move until his eyes refocused. “I was think
ing and didn't hear you. I apologize for startling you.”
Jolie sat down and patted the bed, inviting him closer to her. While he crossed to her and sat, he didn't look like he normally did. Mathew, despite the atrocities, was generally a happy vampyre. Now he looked anything but. “Want to talk about it?”
“I’m fine, Mistress.”
Jolie touched his arm and drew his attention. “Mathew, part of my job is knowing when something is upsetting you. You can tell me anything.”
He just sat incredibly still as if he was carved from marble. It was a skill that vampyres often used against their enemies when they wanted to disappear into their surroundings. Unfortunately for him, they were on a flowered bedspread in a room full of light.
He wasn’t escaping her scrutiny.
“I can’t help you if you don’t trust me. We care about you, Mathew.”
Oh, he believed that she did, but her mates…that was debatable. Mathew saw how they watched him, and it made Mathew edgy as hell.
Flynn didn't like him. He could scent it in the air.
“Please?” she asked, taking his hand in hers.
Obviously, that did the trick.
“I just keep thinking about Delina. I really just want to forget about her. When will it go away?” he whispered softly as he lowered his head in shame.
Jolie pulled him down across her body, so his head was in her lap. He curled against her instinctively, much like a wounded child with his mother. “Oh, Mathew, I wish that I could take your pain away, but I can’t.”
“Will it ever stop?” He was sure that she knew what he meant.
Jolie didn’t know whether she should lie and make him feel better, or to tell him the truth. “Mathew, it gets easier to deal with, but you’ll carry the scars forever.”
“I just feel…”
“Humiliated? Embarrassed? Ashamed?” She finished for him. Jolie understood all of it because she’d lived it herself. When Jacques first found her, just free from Goethe’s prison, she was just as broken.
Maybe even more.
“Yes,” he whispered into her lap. “I’m especially ashamed of what she made me into, and how damaged I still am.”
Dangerous Misery (The Harcourte Vampyre Society Book 3) Page 18