“It’s not unlikely. You said yourself there were few cases similar to this one. If he has someone in the OWEA, he’ll be looking to monitor similar cases.”
The smell of the food finally overwhelmed my determination to ignore it until this was settled. I grabbed the chicken fried rice and scooped some onto the plate Claude had set out for me. A thought hit me as I reached for the beef and broccoli, and I stopped, my hunger suddenly less important. “Claude, does this guy know his brand is missing?”
“No.”
“How can you be sure?”
He took a bite of chicken—to buy himself time, no doubt.
“Look, did you actually just happen upon this somewhere? Or will he have reason to think someone took it? Will he suspect you?” Questions ran through my head faster than I could verbalize them. If this vampire—one who was obviously powerful and strong if he’d evaded Claude for who-knew-how-long—realized that someone was collecting evidence against him, it wouldn’t take him long to figure out who. And that put both Claude and me in danger.
He ran a hand through his hair, arm muscles pressing against the confines of his T-shirt. “Nicolas owns a cabin in Wisconsin—technically it’s owned by a dead acquaintance of his, to keep anyone from connecting it to him, I’m sure. It’s very isolated.”
“How did you find out about it?”
He grinned wryly. “The old-fashioned way: police work. Research. Talking to people on the ground, looking through old records.”
“Go on.”
“I went there when I knew Nic would be out of state. I brought my partner, Astrid, with me. She said the place had been cleaned—psychically. And the only thing she could sense anything on was the brand. It had been stuck in a bin with the fireplace tools.”
Shit. This was starting to feel a lot riskier to my job than I’d thought. “You broke in? Stole it?”
His eyes met mine, and my chest tightened. Why did he still have such an effect on me? We hadn’t been anything to each other in years—even if we had only been casual lovers enjoying each other’s company then.
“Yes.”
“And you don’t think that he’s going to catch on? What the hell, Claude?” I stepped down from the barstool, half wishing I could walk out the door. But I couldn’t. Not with the man connected to my brother’s disappearance involved.
My prospects weren’t good, however. Claude might be able to defend himself from a vampire like Nicolas Chevalier, but I wasn’t ignorant enough to think I could. I still wasn’t sure that digging into anything related to my brother’s disappearance was a good idea. I’d avoided it for years, with good reason.
But some obsessions were harder to shut down than others, and it wasn’t a wound I could poke at without consequences.
“Nic hasn’t returned to the cabin since we were there, and he’s not likely to anytime soon.”
“Why do you think that?”
“Because he hadn’t been there in six months before I went there. Besides, I have a…friend keeping an eye out. If Nicolas sets foot near that cabin, I’ll know about it before he becomes a threat.”
Who did he have watching the cabin? And how? The questions were on the tip of my tongue, but I shook my head. No. I didn’t need to know any of that, and didn’t really want to know.
“I can’t imagine why you’d be willing to take a risk not only to your person, but to your career if anyone finds out—but not be willing to pull a damn file,” I grumbled.
He let out a short laugh, but there was no humor in the sound. “You really think I’m worried about my career?” He leaned forward, again catching my gaze with his, and my stomach clenched. “I have had many careers in my lifetime. I will continue to do what I do, bringing otherworlders and humans to justice for their crimes, whether or not the Chicago Police Department continues to pay me.”
“Well, not all of us have the benefit of multiple lifetimes, Claude. Astrid doesn’t. I certainly don’t.”
“I’ve got it under control. No one’s career is at stake, Beatrice.”
“From where I’m standing, you have nothing under control. You’re not even willing to investigate this the right way, yet you’re willing to steal a suspect’s property?”
“I suppose you could do better?”
“Damn right I could. I’d start by getting Natalie off that wild goose chase you’ve got her on, and use her skills on something important instead. Then I’d pull some damn files from the OWEA or the local police Paranormal Unit that are similar. Track down witnesses. Talk to some shamans. See what you can find using real police work.”
I got up close and personal, leaving only inches between us. “And I’d take a serious look at your supposed friend, Luc Chevalier. Because he isn’t clean in all this. I’d bet my life on it.”
“I’m telling you that Luc has nothing to do with this,” Claude said, his voice a low growl. He stood over me, as if his height would intimidate me. I’d finally rattled the unrattlable vampire. Go me.
“And I’m telling you that I don’t buy it.”
Claude slammed a hand down on his countertop, and the loud boom startled me. He was a better slammer than I was, I’d give him that.
“I need some air,” he muttered. Without another word, he turned and walked to the living room. The open floor plan made his destination obvious, and he walked out onto the balcony. Annoyingly, he moved calmly, as if he hadn’t just lost his temper.
I struggled with the urge to follow him and continue our argument. Claude might not be able to see it, but he was blinded by his feelings for his friend. And could I blame him?
Minutes turned into nearly an hour, and I finally couldn’t leave it alone anymore. I threw on my coat, cursing under my breath. Then I opened the door to the balcony, and stared out at the view. It was lovely. All that dark water—I wouldn’t have known it from the ocean. And I wouldn’t have even seen it if not for the moon blazing above us. Lights shone below us and to the sides, too, but all man-made. Brisk air filled my lungs, and I was thankful I’d remembered the jacket.
Movement caught my eye. I turned to face Claude. He sat in the corner, a bottle of whiskey on the small table at his side. I suppressed the urge to sigh, knowing my words would land on deaf ears even before I said them. “If it looks like a duck—”
“I get it.” Weariness coated his tone.
“I’ve seen him in another vision, Claude.”
“I figured as much, the way you look at the picture you drew. But you don’t trust me enough to give me any details about it.” It wasn’t a question, but I answered anyway.
“It’s not about trust.”
“I’m sick to death of talking about this. Let’s speak of something more pleasant.”
I laughed. The situation was just too ridiculous. “You’re drunk.”
“Nonsense. Vampires don’t get drunk.”
“Bullshit.”
“Why didn’t you ever call me back?”
The change of topic spun me, and I couldn’t grasp my thoughts. “What?” I managed.
“We had amazing sex for several weeks. I know that I didn’t treat you well after, but I called you after the case ended. You never called me back.” He spoke slowly, as if talking too fast would be more than I could comprehend.
My mind warred. Half of me wanted to turn around and run into the condo as fast as I could. Avoid this conversation. Avoid this man who inevitably got under my skin.
But my other half was pissed.
“You called me months after the case ended, Claude. Three months. And after the way you talked to me, you expected me to be waiting for your call?” I shook my head. “You were right. It was an affair. Fun. But that’s all it was.”
His voice was low, but it carried to my ears. “It took me three months to realize I didn’t want just an affair with you.”
“Well, it took me less than three months to realize an affair was all I wanted.”
“I’m sorry for what I said—”
&nbs
p; “What part?” I asked. He hesitated, and rage bubbled up inside of me. As did the all too clear memory of exactly what he’d said to me during our final hour together. “Maybe you regret telling me what we had was fun, but it didn’t mean anything. That we’d experienced an amusing dalliance you’d grown bored of.”
“Beatrice—”
“Your tone was the worst, you know.” I hated the catch in my throat, the too-high pitch in my quavering voice. “The disinterested, holier than thou tone that made me feel like a piece of trash. Like a silly little girl who you had to explain the ways of the world to.” I shook my head. “For a while I believed you. I thought I was the one in the wrong for telling you that I loved you. I put myself out there—confessed my feelings. That’s not something that comes easily for me. And you humiliated me.”
The fire drained from his expression, and for a moment I felt like I’d won, as if winning this argument meant a thing.
“I was trying to protect you, for what it’s worth.”
“Protect me? From what?”
“From my enemies for one—I have acquired a few through the decades.” A ghost of a grin touched his mouth. “But most of all, I wanted to protect you from me. From me hurting you even more later on.”
“You certainly accomplished that. You can’t hurt me anymore.” My mind screamed that was a lie, but I ignored it.
“Can’t I?”
“No. You have to care about someone before they can hurt you,” I said.
He flinched. The motion should have sent a rush of satisfaction through me, instead it pushed a lump into my throat.
“Then why do I feel like you’re more of a threat to me than Nicolas?” he murmured.
There was no way to answer that. This conversation was so over. I turned to leave.
He moved again and stood in front of me before I could face the door to the condo. “You have to admit it was a hell of a few weeks.”
You don’t have to admit anything, my mind insisted, but panic pushed at my throat. His lips were only inches from mine, and they curled into his familiar flirtatious grin. Daring me.
If I ran away now, it would be as good as admitting I cared. That I hadn’t forgotten about our time together. That I hadn’t been able to move on, and instead had compared every man I met to him.
And I’d be damned if I admitted anything.
I tilted my chin, ever so slightly. Our lips even closer, I murmured, “I’ve had better weeks.”
A surprised laugh left him, and then his mouth was on mine. His lips were the perfect blend of soft skin and firm demand. It wasn’t a first kiss—not even like our first kiss, which had been soft and smooth, testing and wanting. This kiss demanded.
And I responded in kind. Because damn him, he owed me.
I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him closer.
His desire pressed against my stomach, and I could feel the last bit of control I possessed slipping away. His body was hard where I was soft, and slightly cooler than my own. But against the cold night air he felt warm.
A moan escaped me and he pulled me closer.
I jerked away and turned my head because there was no room for me to step back. He tried to reclaim my mouth, and I almost let him. Desire burned through me. I knew the pleasure that waited for me in his arms. I knew the blissful quiet it would bring to my mind as he filled my thoughts, leaving no room for anything else. And I knew that for a time, I could find peace.
But it would be an illusion.
“No.”
He stilled, not moving or breathing.
“No?” he asked. And I noticed with no little satisfaction that his voice was rough with the same passion that overwhelmed me.
“We’re not doing this,” I said with a firmness I didn’t really feel.
An ache filled me when he stepped back. The bitter night air felt colder than it had before.
“All right.”
Disappointment warred with relief when he didn’t ask me why, when he didn’t even attempt to convince me. But Claude wasn’t the kind of man who convinced women. He probably had to fight them off with a stick.
There didn’t seem to be anything else to say. Nothing that wouldn’t either drag us back into an argument about his friend, or open the door to talk about us—and that was a door I wasn’t going to open. I couldn’t risk being hurt like that again.
So without another word I went back into the apartment, leaving the vampire out in the cold.
Chapter Six
I tossed and turned through the night. Normal for me, but instead of visions of murder running through my mind, thoughts of Claude plagued me.
I’d considered leaving. I’d gone so far as to pull out my bag. But I couldn’t leave this case half finished. I couldn’t leave a potential tie to my brother’s disappearance unchecked. And the idea of leaving Claude alone to face some vampire with the kind of connections the Magister’s son had, pushed panic into my throat.
Six years had passed since I’d partnered with the vampire. The case we’d worked had been my first as a full-fledged agent. A rookie, I’d been full of energy, unaffected by nightmares, and enamored of the legendary vampire, Claude Desmarais.
The affair—and that’s all it had been—had lasted through the case. Six weeks. And then they had ended. The case and the affair.
And it had ended so badly, I still felt burned.
The way he’d talked to me after I’d confessed that I loved him had made me feel like the lowest of the low. Wrapped in a sheet, I couldn’t have felt more naked, more exposed. But I’d already thought of him as a safe harbor. He’d never judged me, never said a harsh word to me. And in the nights we’d been together I’d shared so much with him. My hopes. My history. My fears.
It was only later that I realized he’d never really done the same.
I’d held out hope for a few weeks. Hope that Claude would apologize. I’d dreamed of him confessing that he hadn’t meant what he said. That he was sorry. That he’d only said it all in some misguided attempt to keep me safe. Weeks had turned into months, and my warm feelings faded and twisted into hurt and anger. By the time he had called—three months after we’d said our good-byes—I was no longer interested in his apologies.
Now he’d said many of the things I would have given anything to hear back then. But it was too late. Time passing might change little to vampires, but it changed a hell of a lot for me.
When the gray light of dawn peeked in through my window, I finally admitted defeat and dragged myself out of bed and into the shower. Claude was up and on his laptop by the time I got out to the kitchen. I could feel his eyes follow me, and I poured a cup of coffee while I gathered my thoughts.
“I’m not leaving yet.”
“I’m glad to hear it,” he said.
“That doesn’t mean we’ll be doing any more kissing.” If I could call such an overwhelming moment of passion by such a simple word. “We’re professionals.”
“I will treat you as such.” The intensity in his eyes made my pulse jump and my mouth go dry. “But don’t expect last night to be our final chat about us. I don’t have a lot of regrets—I try to live true to myself. But I do regret dismissing our time together as an affair. I regret speaking to you cruelly. And those are regrets I intend to remedy.”
I gaped at him for several seconds, then turned away. I couldn’t allow myself to hope. To think about what could have been. I could too easily see myself fitting into his life, fitting him into mine. Laughing with him in the evenings, talking cases with him during the days. Thinking about what might have been was easy. It just hurt too damn much when it turned into nothing.
“Some things can’t be fixed, Claude.” I didn’t turn to see his reaction. Instead I focused very intently on my coffee. Silence settled over us, awkward and uncomfortable. And when he finally spoke, I turned to face him.
“Natalie called. She’s finished with her spells, wants us to come to her house this morning.”
�
��All right, then.”
“Beatrice—”
“Let’s just get this case solved, Claude.” And for the love of God, not talk about us. I didn’t say it, but surely he could hear the message loud and clear in my voice.
“I just wanted to say thank you. For helping me with this. And that I’ll try to be more open-minded.”
He’d try to consider his friend a suspect. That’s what he meant. As far as commitments went, it wasn’t the best. But it was a step in the right direction.
“Let’s go see your witch.”
The drive to Natalie’s went far too quickly, and her home looked no less imposing in the light of day.
Claude let us in this time, not even bothering to knock, and I couldn’t help wondering again how close he was to this witch.
“Where exactly are we going?” I asked, following Claude down a long hallway. We emerged in what felt like another building. More of the cold winter had penetrated this area than the main living space we’d been in before. We passed a small bathroom, door wide open, then what looked like Chicago’s version of a sunroom. All windows and outdoor furniture and sliding glass doors.
We finally had nowhere else to go, but at the end of the hallway stood a set of double doors. The wood was old and thick. Were we headed back outside?
Claude knocked loudly, and a muffled noise came from beyond the doors. I couldn’t make out the words, but the vampire apparently could because he opened the doors. They didn’t lead outside. On the contrary, they led to a casting room.
I’d seen witches’ casting rooms before, but those had mostly been the circles of wannabe witches. Amateurs.
I’d never seen anything like this.
Natalie’s was quite big, for one thing—several hundred square feet. A large circle occupied much of the space, and it had been carved into the floor—a floor that looked like it was made of natural stone.
Vampire Games (Entangled Ever After) Page 5