“And I never want to. I told you that.” I tapped the pen on the pad. “Let’s get back to our suspects. Etienne. What have you found out about him? Does he have an alibi? Is he really grieving? Has he demanded Yolette’s remains yet?”
“Whoa,” he said, leaning back in the chair. “Slow down before you hang the guy. First, he does have an alibi.”
“What, pray tell?”
“He was fishing.”
I blinked. “With a nor’easter coming in? I don’t think so.”
“He went inland, over around Gainesville. Lake fishing.”
I wondered how far inland the lake wind warnings went. Since I watch more HGTV than the Weather Channel, I had no clue.
“He has witnesses, I suppose?”
“Yep. He arranged in advance to rent a boat, and the guy working the marina signed it out to him at six fifteen. The only wrinkle in his story is that he was supposed to have been at the marina by five in the morning. He was over an hour late.”
“Time enough to kill Yolette?”
“Technically, but he says he took a wrong turn, and that is possible. He showed us on a map where he went the wrong way.”
I stared at him. “Doesn’t that strike you as odd?”
“What? That he knew where he made the wrong turn?”
“That he consulted a map at all. Maggie says men are notorious for not following maps or asking for directions.”
His lips quirked. “In a foreign country, even men use maps.”
“What about the body? Is he having her cremated?”
“To destroy some other evidence, you mean?” He shook his head. “He’s been patient, but that may not last long. He says he wants to take her home, and so far there’s no other physical evidence in the house or car—or on her body—other than what there should be.”
“No handy blood-soaked clothing or fibers under her fingernails, huh?” I said, disappointed.
“Nada. As for background, we don’t know as much about Etienne as we’d like to. He’s thirty-five, born in Paris, married Yolette a little over a month ago.”
“Is he well off?”
“He’s comfortable enough.” He cocked his head. “You think he killed Yolette for her money?”
I chewed the tip of my thumbnail. “I don’t know. Etienne could’ve killed Yolette for her money, but I don’t know why he’d kill Rachelle.”
Saber frowned and ran a hand through his hair. “Maybe she was a threat of some kind. Maybe she’d been blackmailing Yolette because Yolette really did kill James Peters.”
“So Yolette and Etienne kill Rachelle to get rid of the loose end. It could’ve been planned, or they could’ve run into her in Daytona and jumped at the opportunity to kill her.”
“That only works if they could get Rachelle alone and get the drop on her.”
“Do the Daytona vampires travel in packs?”
“Not necessarily.”
“Then it wouldn’t be that hard to get her alone. Maybe they promised her a big payoff to lure her somewhere. Where was her body found?”
“On the beach about two hours before dawn. Some spring breakers stumbled over her.”
“Had she been in the water? I mean Yolette washed up, but she didn’t look like she’d been in the water long.”
“More mystery novel trivia?”
“Will you just answer me?”
“Rachelle wasn’t in the water at all, except for the waves washing over her.”
“So we’re down to Etienne, but there’s no evidence.”
“That’s the size of it.”
“It stinks.”
“Yeah, but we can’t charge him without evidence.”
I looked at the notes spread on the table. “There has to be a piece we’re missing.” I tapped my pen on one name and circled it. “We need to talk to Eugene. He’s been reporting to Millie since before James died. He has to know more than we do.”
Three things happened at once. The timer dinged, the house phone rang, and Saber’s cell vibrated across the table. I grabbed the cordless, eyed the caller ID, and greeted Maggie as I dashed to the kitchen to turn off the noisy timer.
“You sound out of breath,” Maggie said as Saber disappeared down the hall, the cell to his ear.
“Just a little. How’s Tallahassee?”
“Fun, actually. I found the most marvelous salvage yard and junk store. How about you? Is Saber still there? What happened with Stony?”
“His name is Victor Gorman, and it turned out he had an alibi, so Saber’s still here.”
“And you’re good with that?” Maggie sounded half suspicious, half incredulous. “I mean, do you feel safe?”
I thought back to this afternoon when he’d seen me in my sleepwear. There was safe, then there was safe from myself.
“Cesca, you’re not answering me.”
“Oh, sorry, I just realized I didn’t get the mail yet. Yes, it’s fine. I’m safe and sound.”
“Really?”
“Maggie, I promise. How was Neil’s seminar?”
“He’s in hog heaven. We have another meet and greet at the university at eight. Oh, and he’s been asked to check a dig site a little west of here tomorrow morning, so we may be back later Sunday than I thought.”
“No problem. I don’t have a tour, so I’ll probably stay in and study or—” I broke off when I heard Neil in the background. “What did he say?”
“He asked if you went shopping for a new surfboard yet.”
“Haven’t had time. Why?”
“Something about good waves next week. He’s finally coming out of the bathroom. Gotta go. Take care, and I’ll see you tomorrow night.”
I put the unit back on the charger and headed down the hall to see if Saber was still on the cell. He was, judging by the one-way conversation I heard through the closed door. I might’ve eavesdropped, but I had hair to tame with a flatiron that wasn’t hot yet. Keeping one ear peeled for Saber’s voice or footsteps, I refreshed my makeup, took my Minorcan costume out of the closet, and went back to the bathroom to brush out tangles.
I leaned over from the waist to get to some snarls at my nape—they’re the worst—when Saber said, “Guess who that was?”
I jerked up and whirled toward his voice. The hairbrush flew into the wall, and I fell back against the countertop.
“Geez, Saber, you startled me.”
“Maybe you should have your vampire hearing checked.”
“Or my head examined,” I muttered and swept my brush off the tiled floor.
“Are you guessing who called?”
“Eugene Cassidy, PI.”
“Yes, but the cell connection was bad. We’re meeting him after your tour tonight.”
“Okay,” I said, suddenly nervous.
Sexy Saber was standing in my bathroom doorway, which is in my bedroom suite, which is where my bed is. My bed with my huge stuffed dolphin and my other personal touches. I felt an intimacy creep around us. Darkened rooms, hushed voices, my light musk scent and his stronger one entwined.
He must’ve felt the charge, too. He cleared his throat and stepped back. “I’ll go eat something while you get ready.”
“Right, good. I’ll, uh, be ready to leave here at eight thirty.”
He nodded and took off, as Maggie would say, like a scalded cat.
So why was I the one who felt burned?
SIXTEEN
It was a perfect, balmy night in paradise as Saber and I walked up St. George Street to meet my tour group. The stars shone bright in the unpolluted skies, the moon was waxing, and soon my psychic senses would be as normal as they get.
But not soon enough to prepare me for what waited at the waterwheel.
Vampires.
Damn. No wonder the street was eerily empty. My bad that I didn’t notice sooner.
I stumbled to a stop a quarter block away. Saber halted, too, and swore under his breath.
Four vampires and the blood bunnies Cici and Claire, all of them d
ressed in assorted tight, black leather outfits, waited at the tour substation. At the center of the group stood the vampire who had to be Ike. He looked part Asian, part African American, his hair military buzz short and his face clean-shaven. Compared to the strong line of his jaw, his lips were almost feminine, but his snake eyes were the color of deepest hell.
Janie and Mick in their usual tour guide costumes also stood sentinel at the station. I heard Janie’s heartbeat flutter like the wings of a trapped bird, and Mick was darn near hyperventilating with agitation. A second later, he spotted us, grabbed Janie’s hand, and hurried toward Saber and me.
I had a bad feeling that got worse as I looked past my friends at Ike.
The weight of his gaze settled on me like black ooze, and my skin prickled and crawled until I wanted to claw at my arms. As I stared, Ike languidly lifted a beringed hand and curled his fingers. Janie’s steps faltered. Her tight expression slackened, and the fear in her eyes drained to nothing. In seconds my friend’s vitality bled away. She pivoted and appeared to float back toward Ike before I could think to move.
Mick was faster. He wheeled after her yelling, “Janie, no!”
Ike said one word, “Tower,” and an impossibly tall black male vamp held out his hand like a traffic cop to freeze Mick in his tracks.
Saber’s breath hitched, and mine stopped, as Janie’s shell snuggled her back against Ike’s chest and exposed her neck. Ike flashed fangs and ran a finger across Janie’s collarbone, but his gaze stayed locked on mine.
“God damn it, he’s grandstanding.” Saber whispered viciously. “I hate it when they do this.”
Fists clenched in impotent rage, I turned my back on Ike to stand in front of Saber. “What now?” I asked, low and tight.
“We stop it before it gets out of hand.”
“Can’t you just shoot them?”
I heard the underlying wistfulness in my whisper, and Saber must’ve, too. He bent closer. “You have to face this, Cesca.”
“Why? Because they’re my people?”
“No.” He tucked a tendril of hair behind my ear. “Because they’re everything you work not to be.”
My breath left my lungs in a whoosh as I stared into his eyes for an endless moment. He was right. Hard as I’d tried to hide from the horror of my past, from the ugly part of myself, I had to face this. We had to save Janie and Mick.
“I only hope,” I said, jabbing my finger in his chest, “you brought an arsenal of silver bullets.”
He slid his gun from the holster under his jacket. “Locked and loaded.”
“Do we go in blazing?” I asked, straightening my spine.
“We play it by ear, but keep this in mind. Like it or not, you’re a vampire, too, and this is your turf. If things go south, grab Janie and Mick, and stay out of my line of fire.”
I nodded. “Let’s go.”
We turned as one to stride side by side toward the vampires. I envisioned an insane version of the shoot-out at the OK Corral, especially with Saber on my right hiding his gun at his thigh. Eight feet from the living and undead, Saber and I stopped.
“Ike,” Saber said.
“Saber.” Ike’s fully dilated eyes showed only black as they flicked from Saber to me. “Francesca, Princess Vampire.”
His rich voice slid over me like raw silk, an infinitely more dangerous sensation than the skin prickles. Even my defunct title sounded like a caress instead of merely a name, and my throat ached to answer him. I might have, if Saber hadn’t shifted at my side.
In that second, I realized that Ike was pulling energy from my aura. That’s what caused the tugging tightness in my chest and throat.
I threw up my shield with a force that made Ike’s reptilian eyes widen. Surprised me, too, but life and death are powerful motivators.
“Public enthrallment is illegal, Ike,” Saber said steadily.
“He’s pulling aura, too,” I said. “That’s a staking offense, isn’t it?”
“It is,” Saber said, raising his gun hand in a slow, even motion. “Let the woman go.”
“Or you will what?” Ike sniffed. “Shoot me?”
“In a heartbeat.”
“A heartbeat? How appropriate when it would be your last,” Ike sneered, his fangs flashing white in the streetlights. “You would not kill one of us before we ripped you all to shreds.”
“You forget, Ike,” Saber said. “I have a vampire on my side. That evens the odds some.”
“Is this so?” Ike’s slashing eyebrows rose mockingly. “Princess Vampire sides with mortals over her own species?”
“Don’t put me in the middle of your pissing contest,” I snapped. “I put up with this crap from King Normand, but I’m not taking it from you.”
“We’re not bluffing, Ike,” Saber warned.
Ike ignored him, his beady eyes boring into mine. “Answer the question, Princess.” He dipped his open mouth toward Janie’s neck. “Do you choose mortals or vampires?”
Ike’s fangs hovered inches from Janie’s jugular. Saber was a deep breath from firing. Something in me snapped, and I acted on instinct.
I swung my gaze to the mocha-skinned female vamp in his entourage, and pulled her aura like a supersuction vacuum on full power. The vampire hissed as the first shock hit her, and she tried to fight me, but I’d siphoned energy to survive. I was a master at this, and I was ticked.
The vampire’s will broke, and she staggered forward to sag at my feet on one knee. Her black hair was an art piece of long cornrows with what looked like bits of polished bone beads. Human bone. Yuck.
I looked at Ike. His expression was more thoughtful than angry, but he vibrated with tension.
“Now who is committing the staking offense?” he asked sardonically.
“Self-defense, Ike. Right, Saber?”
He looked a smidge pale, but his eyes twinkled. “That’s how I see it.” Saber raised a brow at Ike. “So, Ike, what’ll it be? Play games, or talk about Rachelle’s murder?”
That got Ike’s attention.
He straightened and let go of Janie. She swayed but stayed upright, and I breathed a little easier.
Ike’s eyes narrowed on Saber. “You have something to report?”
“A second murder with the same MO as Rachelle’s,” Saber said easily.
“Gee, Ike,” I said, widening my eyes, “it’s been all over the news. Didn’t you know?”
“I do not watch mortal newscasts,” he said repressively, pupils bleeding back to as normal as they would get. “Saber, put your paltry gun away and explain.”
“Let these people go first,” Saber said. “Walk them to the street and break the thrall nice and slow so they don’t panic.”
“When Princess releases Laurel, I shall.”
I startled, because I’d forgotten the woman kneeling in front of me. That I’d pulled Laurel’s aura was one thing. That I’d effortlessly held it scared the hell out of me, but now was not the time to show it.
“Tell you what, Ike. Have Cici and Claire move the mortals, and send—” I motioned at the tall, white female vamp who’d stood like a statue through our face-off.
“Zena,” Ike supplied.
“Send Zena over here to get Laurel. We’ll each release on three.”
Ike snapped his fingers at Zena. She rushed to help Laurel stand and positioned her near Ike. Cici and Claire carefully led Mick and Janie to the street. When Saber counted us off, Ike and his male minion broke the thrall on both Janie and Mick. I freed Laurel so abruptly the air crackled with energy.
As Saber holstered his gun, Mick and Janie blinked into awareness of the here and now. Mick shot Saber and me a surprised look, then grasped Janie’s hand, and hurried off. They’d be missing time, but better that than missing blood.
Or an entire throat.
Which is what I might be missing if I’d let Laurel come back to herself at my feet.
“She insults you, my lord Ike,” Laurel growled, black eyes shooting hatred. “She insul
ts our entire nest. Let me kill her now and be done with it.”
“Silence.” Ike’s voice cracked like a barbed whip. “Saber, tell me of your investigation.”
“Saber is not investigating,” Laurel pushed. “He is sniffing around this one. I smell them, each on the other.”
“You’re probably right, Laurel,” I said, sugary sweet. “Saber’s been living in my space for a few days. Protecting me.”
Ike’s posture stiffened. “From whom? Rachelle’s killer?”
Laurel’s jaw muscles tightened, and it hit me that she had something to hide from Ike. I filed that tidbit away.
“We don’t know yet who killed Rachelle,” Saber said, all business, “but a Frenchwoman named Yolette Fournier was killed here on Thursday. She knew Rachelle and probably visited your club in the last week or ten days.”
“Many people visit my club,” Ike sniffed. “How was this mortal acquainted with my Rachelle?”
I waited for Saber to drop the bomb.
“Rachelle was accused of killing Yolette’s first husband,” he said.
“In France.” It was a statement not a question.
“That’s right,” Saber said mildly. “Did you know about the incident, Ike?”
“I knew. However, if this Yolette is herself now dead by the same killer—” He spread his hands as if looking for answers. “Surely you do not think I had anything to do with this.”
“No,” Saber said, “but you might be able to give us a new lead if you answer a few questions.”
Ike tapped his chin, then shifted his gaze from Saber to me. “Are you assisting Saber in this matter, Princess?”
I glanced at Saber, who nodded. “Unofficially, yes. I’m helping narrow the suspect list.”
“And are you privy to what Saber would ask me?”
I shrugged. “More or less.”
“Then you must ask this of me.”
“Why, so I’ll owe you one? No dice.” I’d exposed my only real vampire skill for Ike to see, might as well speak my mind. “It’s your vampire who died, Ike. You can be a good citizen and answer questions here, or I’m betting Saber can talk to you in a more official capacity.”
He paused so long, I thought we were headed for a standoff. “Very well. What do you and Saber want to know?”
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