by Parker Blue
Lisette frowned. “Where is your master?”
Master? Alejandro didn’t like to be called that, and she knew it. Austin wondered if it was worth it to correct her, but Luis spoke first.
“I don’t know where he is,” Luis said, his expression softening in Lisette’s presence. “I was just planning to look for him when Austin distracted me.”
Val set the broom and dustpan aside, the floor now free of debris. “Well, if you’re so concerned, why don’t we all look for him now?” she suggested.
It was a reasonable suggestion, and though Luis scowled, he said nothing.
“He’s not in the kitchen,” Val volunteered. “I was just there.”
“And I just came from the right of the stairs,” Luis said. He pointed at Lisette’s guards. “You two, check downstairs. Austin, you and the Slayer take upstairs. Lisette and I will search to the left. If you find him, send someone to let us know.”
Austin didn’t care for Luis’s assumption of authority, but he let him have his little moment of dictatorship and motioned to Val. “Shall we?”
“Sure,” she said, rolling her eyes.
They headed up the stairs together, Fang following behind.
Val chuckled.
“Care to share the joke?” Austin asked.
“Oh, nothing. Fang just made a comment about Luis, comparing him to Hitler.”
Austin gave a wry grin. The hellhound wasn’t far off. Luis deplored modern egalitarian society and wished they could return to the old feudal ways.
They turned left at the top of the stairs and started searching the bedrooms there. The cleaning crew hadn’t made it this far yet—the rooms looked as though Emmanuel’s followers had been so wrapped up in their charismatic leader that they hadn’t bothered with simple hygiene or anything as unimportant as cleanliness.
Luckily, they didn’t have to actually touch the disgusting mattresses or wads of clothing to know that Alejandro wasn’t among them.
When they came to a bathroom, Val gave him a wary sidelong glance. “Uh, I think I’ll pass.”
Austin grinned. He could imagine what—
A scream from below scrambled his thoughts, and he and Val didn’t even hesitate. They bolted downstairs toward the sound, Fang scrabbling after. That had to be Lisette. What would make her scream in such rage?
Following the sound of incoherent French invective, Austin and Val rushed to the room at the left of the stairs, followed closely by Lisette’s guards. They burst into the altar room and found Lisette babbling in French at Luis, waving her arms like a crazed windmill.
“What’s wrong?” Val and Austin asked in unison.
Lisette went suddenly silent and pointed a shaky finger at the floor behind the altar. “Guillaume. Là-bas.”
Austin rushed around the altar to see what had her so upset. There, lying face up on the floor, was the missing Guillaume with a dagger sticking out of his heart.
Chapter Four
Val
CONTRARY TO POPULAR belief, it wasn’t just wood in the heart that would kill a vampire. Anything pointy would do. Poor Guillaume was definitely dead.
His body explained Lisette’s scream, and I relaxed a little when I didn’t see any immediate threat, though I remained on guard as Austin and Luis swiftly checked the hidden recesses in the rest of the room.
They found nothing, but I was still uneasy. This room would give anyone the creeps—black-shrouded walls, a roughhewn stone altar holding a tarnished silver cup and multiple knives, and unidentifiable icky stains decorating multiple surfaces. This was where Emmanuel had force-fed his followers his own blood, to compel them to treat him like the second coming. Major bad vibes here.
Especially for Guillaume.
WHICH ONE IS THAT? Fang asked, staring at the body. TWEEDLEDEE, TWEEDLEDUM, OR TWEEDLEDUMBER? LOOKS LIKE THEY LEFT TWEE AT HOME.
What? Oh, yeah, my nicknames for Lisette’s showy male harem. I don’t remember which is which—they all look alike to me. All tall, blond, buff, and totally subservient to Lisette. Pretty, but more decorative than useful, I suspected. And, I remembered, she wanted to add Austin to their number.
Fang snorted. FAT CHANCE. HE’S NO BOOTLICKER.
Yeah, definitely too butch to join their team.
Lisette let out another spate of French, then shook her head and spoke in English. “Who did this?” She looked at me, her eyes narrowed. “You—you are the Slayer, yes? You killed Guillaume?”
“No, of course not,” I answered quickly. I didn’t like the way she and the other two tweedles were looking at me. “I don’t go around killing random vampires. Only the bad ones. And I didn’t kill this guy. I would’ve used a stake, not a dagger.” Cheaper and easier to leave behind.
“It’s true,” Austin said, standing up for me. “She is a friend of the New Blood Movement. And she was with me except for the few minutes she went to get a broom.”
Even Luis had to agree. “We would have heard something if the Slayer had accosted Guillaume. But what of that ‘errant shadow demon’ you spoke of earlier?” he asked with a smarmy look I wanted to wipe off his face.
“Shade?” I snorted. “Yeah, right. It’s not as if he could overpower a vampire.” His skills ran only to opening portals and healing people, not great strength and dexterity.
“He may have witnessed something, though,” Austin said.
True. “I’ll ask him if he saw or heard anything.” I called his cell, but there was no answer. Shrugging, I said, “I’ll ask him later.”
“And where is Alejandro?” Lisette demanded, her eyes narrowed.
“Alejandro didn’t do this,” Austin said with certainty. “He’s missing, too.”
Luis gave him a shrewd glance. “You think whoever did this killed Alejandro and Vincent?”
“Maybe,” Austin said. “Did you find any other bodies?”
He sounded tense, but I wasn’t sure if it was because he was ticked off at Luis or because Alejandro might have met with foul play. Probably both.
“No other bodies,” Luis said.
YEAH, Fang agreed. I ONLY SMELL THE ONE DEAD UNDEAD.
The oxymoron ought to confuse me, but I knew what he meant.
“Then we need to find him before whoever found Guillaume does,” Austin said, sharing a grim look with Luis.
I glanced around. “Well, there are so many people here, we’ve probably destroyed any evidence that might help us do that.”
Luis snorted. “And who would need that evidence? We are not calling the police.”
I’d had about enough of his surly behavior. Forget Teflon. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe one of us? You do intend to investigate, don’t you?” Or was he too caught up in playing dominance games to think straight?
“Of course. And we don’t need your help.”
Ignoring him, I glanced down at the body. “Well, since Lisette sent him on ahead, we know he had to have been killed before we got here, or you would have heard something, right?”
Austin nodded, so I continued. “We got here about three fifteen. How about you, Luis?”
He frowned but answered anyway. “I arrived about three thirty, just as the lights went out. That’s when Alejandro was supposed to meet me.”
“Does he sometimes arrive early?”
“Frequently,” Austin said.
I turned to Lisette. “Do you know what time Guillaume arrived?”
She gave an elegant shrug but seemed to believe I was one of the good guys—for now. “Perhaps around two thirty,” she said, “to ensure that all was safe for my arrival. I was to meet Alejandro at three thirty as well.”
And she’d shown up fashionably late, of course.
“Why were you late?” Luis asked, frowning.
“I was waiting for Guillaume to give the all clear first. But when I heard the two of you arguing, I came in.” She glanced down at his body. Guess we knew why he didn’t.
“Then it must have happened before we all got here,” I said.
One of the tweedles leaned down to remove the dagger, but I said, “Wait—don’t touch it. Is that one of Emmanuel’s?”
He pulled his hand back, frowning.
“Does it matter?” Luis asked.
Austin’s gaze swept the altar. “Looks like the others,” he confirmed.
“Really?” I asked Luis in disbelief. “You left dangerous weapons around where anyone could use them?”
“We were waiting for Alejandro and Vincent to look at them first.” He sneered. “Again, does it matter?”
“Maybe . . . if the knife was an athame and held magick.” Though an altar usually only had one athame, not a collection of them. Then again, who knew what a blood demon’s rituals needed?
“And maybe it isn’t a ritual knife,” Luis said. “He wasn’t Wiccan, just a demon.”
“How would we know if it’s an athame or not?” Austin asked.
Uh, now that he mentioned it, I didn’t have a clue. “A Wiccan would probably know.” I stepped forward to peer at the dagger buried to the hilt in Guillaume’s heart. The crossguard curved up in a flourish, and a green stone with red flecks was set in the pommel.
Austin peered at it, too. “Bloodstone,” he pronounced.
FIGURES.
Stone . . . that reminded me. “There’s a new demon in town,” I told them. “Micah said she’s a gemstone whisperer. Maybe she can get this stone to tell us something.”
Everyone looked skeptical, even Austin. Come to think of it, it did sound kind of odd. But until a few months ago, I didn’t even know other demons existed, much less what skills they had. And Micah would have no reason to lie to me about that. “I’m not sure how her ability works, but maybe she can tell us who touched it last—if we keep our hands off it.”
Well, whaddaya know? They actually seemed to agree with me for a change. Before they could change their minds, I said, “Let me call Micah and see if she can come.”
I called my boss, told him what had happened, and asked him to bring the gemstone whisperer by to see if she could learn anything from the bloodstone in the hilt.
YOU KNOW, Fang drawled. IF YOU ALL LEAVE THE ROOM, I MIGHT BE ABLE TO SMELL SOMETHING.
Good idea. I told the rest of them what he’d said. “Let’s clear out.”
They left the room, and Fang sniffed around the entire creepy place. “What do you smell?” I asked.
Fang roamed the room, nose to ground. LOTS OF PEOPLE—VAMPS, DEMONS, CRACKPOT RELIGIOUS FOLLOWERS . . .
“Any traces more recent than the others?” I didn’t know if that was possible, but it was what we needed.
YEAH, IT’S POSSIBLE, Fang said. BESIDES THE DEAD TWEEDLE, I GET LOTS OF EAU DE BLOODSUCKER—SPECIFICALLY, ALEJANDRO, VINCENT, AND THOSE TWO CANDY VAMPS.
Candy vamps?
YOU KNOW—MIKE AND IKE.
Ah. I repeated the conversation for the others.
“Mike and Ike?” Luis asked.
“The two we sent to turn the lights back on and clean up the crystal,” Austin said, looking thoughtful.
“I switched on the breaker,” Luis said.
“And I cleaned up.” So what had happened to Mike and Ike?
Austin and I exchanged glances. “They said you sent them here to clean up,” Austin told Luis. “That you were their sponsor.”
“I don’t know of any vampires by those names,” Luis said.
In unison, he and Austin said, “Rogues.”
Oh, crap. They’d played us.
“Why would they kill Guillaume and take Alejandro?” Lisette asked.
Duh. “Because they want to be the only game in town?” I suggested.
“Then why not simply kill Alejandro and this Vincent as well?” she asked.
It was a reasonable question. “Blackmail?” I suggested. “Maybe they’re going to send a ransom demand or something, demanding that you disband the Movement.” After all, the Movement threatened the rogues’ objective of fanging anyone they wanted.
“Entirely possible,” Austin said thoughtfully.
“Or perhaps they took Alejandro and Vincent to torture them, obtain confidential information about the Movement,” Luis suggested.
“We aren’t going to find out just standing here,” Austin bit out.
“Where do you suggest we start looking?” Luis shot back.
Whoa. Testosterone overload much? “Can you follow Alejandro’s scent?” I asked Fang so everyone could hear.
I CAN, BUT HE’S BEEN ALL OVER THE PLACE HERE. I’M NOT SURE IT’LL HELP.
Repeating what he said for the benefit of the others, I asked aloud, “How about Mike and Ike? Can you follow their scents?”
I’LL TRY.
Everyone watched as Fang sniffed around in circles, then headed toward the staircase, where we’d seen them earlier. We all followed like ducklings until Fang said, STOP WANDERING AROUND. YOU’RE MESSING UP THE SCENTS. I JUST WANT VAL WITH ME.
I passed on the message, and they all congregated in the foyer while Fang did his bloodhound thing and I followed. His path took him through the kitchen and out to the side entrance, then he halted.
THE TRAIL STOPS HERE, he told me. THEY MUST’VE GOTTEN IN A CAR AND LEFT.
I was afraid of that. I returned to the foyer to find Luis shoving his face into Austin’s. “This is your fault,” Luis said.
Austin’s fists clenched, but he didn’t back off. “The hell it is.”
“You’re responsible for assigning Alejandro’s guards.”
“I did,” Austin said. “And Alejandro refused to have anyone but Vincent today.”
“Vincent wasn’t enough, obviously,” Luis said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
“Well, sorry,” Austin said, “but my crystal ball was broken. How would I know Vincent wouldn’t be enough?”
“Perhaps because you wanted him to be unguarded?” Luis suggested.
“What? Don’t be an ass. I had nothing to do with his disappearance.”
“We only have your doxy’s word for that.”
Doxy? I wasn’t sure what that meant, but I was pretty sure it wasn’t a compliment.
IT’S NOT, Fang confirmed. HE’S CALLING YOU A TRAMP.
Asswipe. I’ll tramp him.
Austin wasn’t taking any guff. “Val isn’t a doxy. And I’d take her word over yours any day. How do we know you didn’t kidnap him so you could take over the Movement?”
Luis looked ready to explode, but Lisette said, “Enough. This is not helping.” She glanced at me. “Did the chien find anything?”
“No, the trail ended at the side door. They must have gotten in a car and driven away.”
“Was Alejandro with them? And Vincent?” Austin asked.
“No way to know. Their scents are everywhere.”
MICAH’S HERE, Fang told me.
When I turned to glance at the door, everyone else’s head followed, and Lisette slinked into a pose like a model, giving him a come-hither smile. Looked like Micah’s incubus was working just fine. One of the tweedles whispered in her ear, and she backed off, scowling. Too bad. I’d like to see her come up against Micah’s incubus, figuratively speaking.
Micah moved into the house, and a petite blonde followed, obviously keeping her distance from the incubus whose close proximity could inspire lust in any woman—except for me, of course. The blonde was about my age, with short, spiky hair, wearing a pale pink hoodie and a ton of jewelry—gemstones on every finger, jewels studding her ears, and even one in her belly button bel
ow her cropped top. She held herself with the sort of self-confidence I’d usually seen only in mature women. I wished I could display that sort of assurance.
“Good evening,” Micah said. “Is this a bad time?”
Seemed like the perfect time to me. “No, this is good. Are you the gemstone whisperer?” I asked the girl. She looked nothing like I imagined a rock demon would appear.
She nodded, smiling, and shook my hand. “Ivy Weiss.”
“Nice to meet you. I’m Val Shapiro.” I introduced her to the vamps in the room, all except the tweedles whose names I didn’t know, then introduced Fang.
“A hellhound?” she said in delight. “I’ve never met one before. And he can speak in my head?”
WHOA, Fang said. I’M NOT THE ONLY ONE. I’VE NEVER HEARD SO MANY VOICES IN SOMEONE’S HEAD IN MY LIFE. WHAT ARE THEY, IF NOT HELLHOUNDS?
Ivy grinned ruefully. “It’s the price of speaking to stones. They’re quiet most of the time, but they’re excited about this situation, so there’s a lot of chatter. The only way to block them out is by covering my head with silk.” She demonstrated by pulling the pink hoodie up over her head. “Like this.”
I had enough problems with Fang in my head. I couldn’t imagine a whole bunch of voices. I’d go mad. I glanced at Fang, anticipating his comeback.
NAW, IT’S TOO EASY. BESIDES, I’M NOT CRAZY ABOUT ALL THOSE VOICES, EITHER. THINK I’LL STAY OUT OF HER HEAD.
Ignoring Fang, I asked, “What’s your range? To hear the stones, I mean.”
She shrugged. “It varies. Usually within a few feet, unless I’ve established a link with one already, then it’s much farther.”
Okay, so she couldn’t tell anything from here. “We have a stone we’d like you to take a look at. Can you tell who touched it last? Or if it’s booby trapped with magick?”
She shrugged. “Maybe. Let’s see.”
I led her to the body. Her pale face seemed to go even whiter when she saw the dagger sticking in the vamp’s heart. “I—I don’t think I’ll be able to tell you anything,” she said, clutching her hood around her face.