“And at least one of them smells like flame broiled roses,” Caleb added with a smirk.
I narrowed my eyes. “Are you mocking me?”
He raised his hands. “Those were your words, not mine.”
Damn him, I had used those words when he’d asked about the smell on the drive back. I leaned forward in my chair, looking over the papers spread in front of us. We sat in my room, huddled around the desk next to my bed.
“Oh, by the way, the forensics team pulled a partial fingerprint,” Caleb said.
My eyebrows shot up. “They did?”
“Yep,” he said, reaching across the desk and taking a swig of his coffee. “I overheard that when we bagged and tagged the business card.”
Ugh. The business card. I rubbed my eyes. It was proof that once again I’d managed to personally ensnare myself in a series of murders.
“Not that it matters since you’ll be meeting one of the killers tonight.”
I groaned. “Don’t remind me.” Already the Politia was making arrangements for my little murderous meet-and-greet this evening. We’d need to leave in another few hours to set up the recording devices and go over what I needed to say.
They knew I’d find the card. They wanted me to find it. Whoever “they” was.
My gaze drew down once more to the map. “Is the second murder on a ley line?” I asked. I’d assumed it was, but assuming and knowing were two very different things.
Caleb gave me a blank look.
I blinked. “Why are you staring at me like that?”
“Because you’re the demonologist here.”
I grimaced. “I hate it when you say things that make sense.” I grabbed my bag and rifled through the papers I’d Xeroxed back at Peel Academy. Several of them were maps of known ley lines in Romania.
I pulled one of the maps out that covered the region of Bistrița-Năsăud, squinting at the smudged lines and loopy handwriting. The original map had been hand drawn, and my version was a copy of a reprint. A.k.a., the quality sucked balls. But even with the poor quality reprint I could tell that no ley lines ran through our second crime scene.
Well hell.
“This murder wasn’t on a ley line,” I stated, confused. I glanced up and met Caleb’s eyes. “Why would the first murder occur on a ley line, but not the second?”
Caleb pinched his lower lip as he thought it over. “The location of the first murder could’ve been a coincidence,” he said. His eyes found mine. “Or … the location served another purpose altogether.”
I furrowed my brows. “Like what?”
Caleb stared at me, his eyes troubled. “Like luring Gabrielle Fiori to Romania.”
Chapter 8
I readjusted my miked cleavage for the millionth time as Caleb and I stepped out of Grigori’s car. Club Thirst was just a few doors down.
Grigori rolled down the window and leaned over the console. “I will be around the corner listening with the rest of the team,” he said to me. “Remember what we talked about.”
I nodded. I’d go in, act normal until I was approached, ask the questions the Politia wanted to know, and when I was finished, I’d tuck my hair behind each ear—my cue to the undercover guards posted throughout the club to take down the murder suspect. Easy peasy.
Yeah, right.
Grigori paused, and I saw the moment he went from a colleague to a fatherly figure. “Don’t be a hero. The second something feels wrong, you get out of there—both of you.”
“Of course,” I murmured.
“Do you remember the phrase you are to use if you need help?” he asked.
“‘I don’t think I like it here,’” I repeated from memory. It wasn’t forgetting it I was concerned with. No, I was more concerned about slipping the phrase into a conversation with the murderer suspect.
“Good. You two keep an eye on each other.”
“We will,” Caleb said.
Satisfied with that, Grigori drove off, leaving us alone. I cracked my knuckles as we approached the entrance to Thirst. A long line stretched down the block, one we wouldn’t have to wait in. But before I had time to fish my badge out of my bra, the bouncer guarding the door eyed me and then stepped aside and let us through.
“That was weird …” I said.
Caleb shrugged and said something back to me, but the pounding music of the club swallowed his voice.
A dozen sets of eyes clung to me as I moved through the club. Self-consciously I smoothed down the tiny red dress I’d been asked to wear. The Politia wanted me to be noticed—both so that I caught the murderer’s attention and so that I had many witnesses.
My gaze swept over the crowd. This late in the evening, most of the club goers were drunk, and their otherness was slipping through to the surface. Slitted pupils, a flash of scales, fur. Those were the monsters in the mix. The more common supernaturals—witches, seers, and such—were less obvious, but if I looked closely, I could catch a glimpse of their manifested powers as well.
Many of the clubbers stared back at me, not bothering to look away even when I met their gaze. I had no idea who I was supposed to meet.
Gee this wasn’t awkward.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Caleb said, loud enough for me to hear.
I glanced over at him, but he wasn’t looking at me. I followed his gaze across the room.
I only had a second to register the thrum that now overshadowed the pounding music and the collective dip in conversation before my eyes fell on the object of Caleb’s focus.
Andre.
Andre was already staring at me, and ho, he did not look pleased. Yay, I’d managed to piss off my immortal boyfriend without even trying this time. That deserved some sort of prize … other than my ass on a plate. ’Cause that’s what the look he was giving me promised.
“Is it just me, or does Andre look like he’s going to murder us?” Caleb asked.
“Not helping,” I said, my eyes never straying from him.
The entourage of scary-looking men that surrounded him followed his gaze. Eep. They looked like they were going to eat me.
Never taking his eyes off of me, Andre pushed forward, the muscle in his jaw feathering.
“Should I shift and hold him off?” Caleb asked next to me.
I shook my head. “That will only make it worse.”
“He’s going to ruin the meeting.”
“Maybe,” I replied, the gears in my mind turning.
The crowd parted for Andre, and every step he took towards me brought his expression in sharper relief. Yep, he was definitely pissed. The current between us amplified as he neared. I could feel it vibrating in my chest and making my fingers tingle.
Out of the corner of my eye I saw Caleb’s hands fist. I reached out and touched his arm. “Don’t even think about it,” I said. “If you start a fight in here, this whole thing is going to fall apart.”
Caleb worked his jaw and reluctantly nodded, uncurling his fists and relaxing his muscles.
I felt a surge of energy run through me, and when I looked up, Andre’s eyes had moved to where my hand still touched Caleb’s arm. Something primal and possessive had entered into his expression. I would’ve rolled my eyes except this whole situation was clearly heading south, and fast.
“Grab us some drinks Caleb.”
“But—”
I gave him a light shove in the direction of the bar. “Just please, do it.”
Caleb reluctantly left me just before Andre closed the remaining distance between us.
Then Andre’s hands were on either side of my face. “What are you doing here?” he said, his voice almost desperate.
I was expecting anger, but not this, not the intense worry written onto his features. I wrapped my hands aro
und his wrists. “What are you doing here?”
“I had a break between sessions of the trial, so I came here to meet with my staff and managers.” His thumb rubbed my lower lip, and his gaze dropped to my mouth.
Realization hit me like a punch to the gut. “This is your club.” Of course. How had I not put that one together?
“Yes, it is.” Andre took a steadying breath and gazed back up at my eyes. “Now, what are you doing here?”
My breath came faster, and I shifted my focus to the crowd around us. “They knew,” I said, more to myself than to Andre, “they knew this was your club. They had to know you’d be here.” But why? Why?
Andre gave me a light shake. “Gabrielle.”
My eyes honed in on Andre. “There’s been another murder, and the killers left a note for me asking to meet them here.”
“And you came,” Andre said. His voice was calm, his face placid except for that muscle in his cheek. It kept clenching and unclenching.
Uh oh.
“The Politia is here,” I said quietly. “They will make sure nothing happens tonight.”
“The Politia doesn’t give a shit about your life,” he snapped.
I flinched at his words. He said it with such vehemence.
I tried to draw away, but one of his hands dropped from my cheek and snaked around my waist. Instead of letting me go, he pulled me forward, and I stared into those deep, remorseful eyes of his.
His thumb rubbed my cheekbone. “I didn’t say that to hurt you, soulmate.” His expression had gone soft and a little sad. “I just cannot stand by and watch them place you in danger over and over again.”
“Andre, it was my choice to join the Politia, my choice to take this case, and my choice to be here. I am the only one putting myself in danger.”
He cupped my chin. “You need to leave.”
Here we go again. “Andre, we’ve already talked abou—”
“There are vampires from the trial here.”
Oh.
Hell.
“They’re here?” I said, looking over Andre’s shoulder. My fangs dropped down at the thought. All that Andre had warned me about last night replayed through my mind.
“Some of my bouncers and several of my patrons are vampires,” Andre said. He glanced at the nearby exits. “Now we need to get you out of here—”
The music suddenly quieted and a voice came on over the speakers. “Evening all you lovely creatures,” a woman said. The crowd stilled, and the hairs on my arms rose. The voice was melodic, seductive, … compelling.
My eyes searched for the source, moving over the packed dance floor and landing on the DJ station. There.
The woman stared at me, and when my gaze met hers, her red lips widened.
The blood drained from my face. I might’ve just caught my first glimpse of the murderer that smelled of ash and roses, and she was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen.
Most supernaturals were easy on the eyes, but she … she made my heart ache.
“Let’s get the party started,” she shouted, riling up the club. She spoke with an English accent. Not Romanian. Foreigner. “Get on the dance floor, and dance until you can’t anymore.”
Andre’s hands dropped from where they’d touched me. His eyes flickered, his mouth pulled down into a frown, but he moved away from me.
“Andre!” His shoulder muscles tensed, but he didn’t glance back.
Bodies brushed past me as other club patrons made their way to the dance floor. The bar and lounge emptied; everyone left what they were doing to join the dancing crowd.
The woman had her hand on the DJ’s shoulder, and she whispered something in his ear. He nodded and turned back to the setup in front of him. The speakers blasted as a new song came on, and the crowd began to sway.
As far as I could tell, I was the only one who wasn’t affected. There was only one thing I knew of that could cause this.
I tugged my mike towards my mouth. “Grigori, if you can hear this, then listen to me. I think I just laid eyes on one of the killers, and …” I took a deep breath, “I think she might be a siren.”
I thought I was the last siren left. I was wrong.
Pushing through the last of the people joining the dance floor, I made my way to the DJ booth. At the back of my mind I registered that I’d been immune to the glamour. I guess it didn’t work on our own kind.
If this woman was one of the killers, then I had an idea how our victims walked so far in their bare feet without any signs of duress. Glamour.
The woman stepped down from the booth, and her dark eyes glittered as she watched me approach her.
As soon as I reached her, she did something wholly unexpected. Pressing a fisted hand to her breast, she knelt at my feet.
I took a step back, now unsure of myself. Out of all the things I was anticipating when I confronted the killer, this was not one of them.
She rose, her eyes moving up until they met mine. “It’s an honor to meet you, consort.”
I started at the name. “Don’t call me that.”
She smiled. “My apologies, Gabrielle.”
That wasn’t exactly better.
My gaze moved to the crowd. At first glance, one would think they were having a good time. But their eyes gave them away. All were empty, unseeing, marionettes strung along by a puppet master. Using glamour in this manner was against the law.
“Let them go,” I said, even as the siren in me stirred. There would be no using the safety phrase. No amount of backup would save the people in this room, and there was nothing stopping this woman from doing to the officers what she’d already done to the rest of the room—including the king of vampires.
This was really not his night. It wasn’t really mine, either.
“I will, once we’re finished,” she said.
My eyes moved over her tan skin. It wasn’t glowing—actually, I hadn’t seen her skin light up at all this evening—yet the room was still under her spell. If she was a siren, how was that possible?
My eyes flicked up and our gazes locked. “What are you?”
She stepped up to me, leaning in. Her mouth skimmed my cheek, making me shudder. “I am just like you,” she whispered, her voice teasing a shiver out of me. She fingered my hair, and as she spoke, her lips tickled my ear. “Same seductive beauty, same powers of persuasion, same cursed lineage.”
She pulled away, her eyes moving to my mouth. “But I am not a siren.”
“Then what are you?” I asked.
Her gaze dropped to my cleavage. Not exactly the response I’d been looking for.
And then she reached down my dress.
I gasped, snatching her wrist, but not before I felt her yank the wires attached to the inside of my outfit. She pulled the listening device out and threw it on the floor, crushing it underneath her stiletto. “Can’t have the Politia ruin all our fun.” She eyed me. “You really shouldn’t be working for them. They hate people like us.”
“And you really shouldn’t be murdering people,” I snapped.
She flashed me a sinful smile and began to circle me slowly. “You have your orders, and I have mine.” Her hand skimmed along my waist, and I swatted it away.
This whole conversation felt like a violation, but what chilled the blood in my veins was that some part of me, the part that called to my darker nature, reveled in it. I wanted to let this woman’s murderous hands continue to touch me and her wicked lips to graze my skin. I wondered if I embraced the siren in me whether I too could wield this kind of power.
“Why are you here?” I asked. Behind her I swear I saw a shadow move, but then she spoke, drawing my attention away from the movement.
“Why, to meet you of course.” She stepped back in front of me.
�
��And are you going to tell me your name?” I asked, perhaps a tad snarky.
She tilted her head. “Mmm, I don’t think so.”
I was tired of this game of cat and mouse. Specifically, I was tired of being the mouse. The siren in me screamed to be let out, and for once, I caved.
My skin glowed. “Stop killing people.”
The woman looked delighted. “Finally. Took you long enough to come out and play.”
She leaned forward and made a soft sound. Almost as if she couldn’t help it, she brushed a kiss along my neck.
Oh hell no, this murderous ho-bag did not just steal a kiss.
I felt power swell within me the moment before I brought my foot up. I slammed my heel into her chest and kicked her. The force of my blow lifted the woman off her feet and threw her back into the wall behind her. Plaster buckled under the impact of her body as she crashed into it.
Her head lulled and she moaned. “Wasn’t … expecting that.”
Ignoring her words, I stalked forward, both the siren and the vampire in me out for blood. I was done playing nice. She wasn’t leaving here tonight unless it was in cuffs or a body bag.
Yeah, don’t come between me and my winter break.
I stopped in front of her body and, grabbing her by the hair, I lifted her up. My fangs came out and my eyes dropped to her neck. I’d never bitten anyone before—hell, blood grossed me out. But right now … right now I could smell the scent of ash and roses just beneath the surface of her skin, and my mouth watered.
“Do it,” she said, watching me.
My eyes lifted to her face. She looked eager, and that gave me pause. I breathed in and then out, reining in the siren and the vampire long enough to think logically.
I wanted to munch on her. How disturbing.
I worked my jaw. “No,” I finally said, conquering the urges that warred inside me. “Now tell me: who else is working with you?” I asked, shaking her head.
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