by Unknown
Jolie raised her hand and the rose box slid away from her mates and across the floor to sit in front of her family. “This is from Louisa’s grave. Her memorial was defiled for Genevieve’s revenge,” she hissed, as the lights flickered. “Whoever has done this is dead. DO YOU HEAR ME? DEAD!”
As if to prove a point, the picture above the fireplace shook, falling to the floor. It cracked along the ornate frame before catching on fire.
“I will personally destroy you and watch you squirm. I will peel your burnt flesh from your body to use as a canvas.” She pointed to the wall over the fireplace where she intended to hang it.
The family cowered in fear.
Jolie was out of control. “GET OUT NOW!” With a wave of her arms, vases shattered and flowers exploded into a shower of petals. When she spun to face her mates, the expression on her face was terrifying. Jolie looked ready to kill someone.
“Oh God,” Brogan hissed, not knowing if he should raise his gun. Could he stop her if he had to?
“No, mon ami,” Jacques’s voice whispered into the other man’s head. “She won’t hurt us. She needs us.”
Jolie stopped in front of Jacques and swayed. So many emotions were ripping through her, and her body was spent. For now, the anger had burned up all she had, and the storm had left her empty.
“Jacques, she defiled Louisa’s grave. Someone here helped her. Why? What did I do to them?” Jolie asked, as the tears came to replace the anger. Falling, she was caught by his strong arms.
“Shhhh… bébé. Flynn and I will fix this. I promise that the person who did this won’t get away with it.” He kissed her cheek as her body began cooling.
Brogan lifted one of her bloody hands to his lips. “It’s okay, Jolie. We have you,” he reassured. It was hard not to be scared shitless. Watching her erupt was like walking into a deadly storm.
“We have to get this glass from her skin so she can heal. Once we tuck her into bed, we’ll call the family in here for a meeting. Someone invited the enemy into our home, and we must find out who the traitor is.”
“Absolutely,” he offered, willing to do anything Jolie needed. He followed Jacques to the stairs. “Has this happened before?”
“Oui, the day you came and told us that Louisa was dead. It’s why I had to postpone our joint venture to the club. She was with death for hours.”
“That was some scary shit, Jacques. What happens now?”
Jacques left kisses across Jolie’s face. “We find Genevieve and kill her before she comes here to destroy us.”
“What about the family member who betrayed Jolie?”
“It doesn’t matter.” Jacques replied, his eyes bleeding black. “The minute they betrayed her and the rest of the family, they were already dead.”
The meaning was crystal clear.
One way or another, someone had signed their own death warrant. If Jolie couldn’t end their life, Jacques surely would.
“We’re going to execute someone, aren’t we?” Brogan asked.
Jacques glanced up and didn't hide the hate and anger in his emotions. “Yes, and I look forward to it.”
∞ ∞ ∞
In the French Quarter, Genevieve sat in her rented house surrounded by naked vampyres. She was fully satiated with sex and blood. Her entire mood was so much brighter, knowing that she was able to serve a blow to Jolie’s heart.
Oh, this was only the beginning.
At that very moment, Jolie was returning from her pathetic dress up party and was about to find her ‘little’ token of affection.
There was laughter.
Sliding away from the bed and her two abused guardians, Genevieve stared down at the bloody carnage. All she could hope was there was as much of a bloodbath at the Harcourte plantation.
Her fondest wish was for Jolie to fall apart from seeing her precious human’s remains. If she was lucky, maybe someone would get hurt.
What was a few dead family members among friends?
Jolie needed to suffer for what she did to Cassiel. Any amount of pain would be minimal to what she’d felt on that fateful day.
Who would have thought that the pathetic twit from her own family would so easily betray her for the opportunity to control her society when Jolie was dead?
“It was the best deal I ever made,” admitted Genevieve, knowing she would never keep her word. Why should she? There was no allegiance to anyone who lived in that house. When the time came, none of them, who bore the Harcourte name, would live.
Before this was over, all of her family would be nothing more than ash, except for the detective.
Jolie’s precious human had something far more entertaining coming in his not so distant future. The pain he would have to survive would make him beg for death.
Even then, there would be no mercy.
“I hope you’re ready, Jolie. I’m coming for you.”
∞ ∞ ∞
Jacques tucked the black silk around Jolie’s slender frame while he stared down at her pale body. She was dead to the world, all because she had depleted her energy in anger. This had been the worst example Jacques had ever seen, and he prayed that he was never privy to it again. Gently, he left a kiss on her cold lips.
“How long will she be out?” asked Brogan, still holding her limp hand in his. It was so hard not to be worried about the woman he loved. What he wanted to do was rage around, finding the person who hurt her.
What he needed to do was bide his time.
Brogan had a feeling that Jacques was going to be the one who scared the shit out of the family.
“I have no idea, mon ami. Last time, it was a day and a half. Who knows?” he answered honestly, wishing he could reassure the man.
“I have to tell you that downstairs was the scariest thing I have ever seen in my life, and I’ve lived Genevieve’s nightmares. Jolie looked like she was no longer in her body. I swear it was as if she was possessed.”
“Oui, the anger takes control and the predator that lays dormant in us breaks free. You can see what you are doing, but you can’t stop it.”
“That sounds dangerous.”
“It depends on the focus of her anger,” answered Jacques truthfully.
Brogan rubbed his eyes. “What if she would have killed everyone in that room?”
He tried to reassure the man. Being human, it looked a lot worse than it actually was.
Maybe.
“She wouldn’t have, Flynn,” he answered, as he faced Brogan. “Notice that the only one who was hurt down there was Jolie. She took the brunt of it upon herself.”
Flynn sat there observing her. She was so peacefully lying there, and what had happened earlier was like night and day. It was hard to believe the scene that played out before. Right then, she looked like an angel. “It’s astounding that Jolie has that much power. I felt the house shake.”
“I completely understand.”
“Was she always this strong?”
“No, it appears she’s getting more powerful,” he admitted. “I think that the three of us coming together has given her a deeper well to draw on. I’m feeling a little weak myself.”
“Do you need to feed?” Flynn offered, willing to give the man blood or energy.
“No, I’m fine, my friend. Jolie didn't drain me.”
Brogan nodded. “We shouldn’t be nervous that she’s stronger, right?” he asked hesitantly.
Jacques shrugged, not knowing that answer. The medallion around Flynn’s neck caught his eye. He only hoped that this wasn’t some evil twisted game being played by the priestess. If it was, she wouldn’t last the week.
“Come on, Flynn. The family is waiting for us downstairs. They’re repairing the family room and cleaning up the mess. We’ll have to have the windows repaired tomorrow morning. I’m hoping that you can take care of that for me. I’ll rest with Jolie in the morning for a few hours until you need to rest. We can’t leave her unguarded until she wakes. From here on out, we trust no one but the three of us
, oh, and Chloe. I can guarantee her trustworthiness.”
He didn't ask why, simply because Jacques knew the family far better.
“I understand.” He touched Jacques’s arm to get his attention. “How will we find the one in the family who betrayed us?”
Jacques glanced down at the hand and smiled. It was a sign of solidarity, and it meant a great deal to Jacques. He could count on one hand the times the man had willing physical contact with him.
It meant Flynn was adjusting to their union.
“We need to figure out who has the most to gain by Jolie and myself dying. You can’t control the family if we’re killed. You’d be released and gain your soul back. Since you haven’t been tied to us for long, you would survive our death. Unless you took another vampyre mate, the family wouldn’t allow you to remain, not as the primus anyway.”
“Yeah, well, I’m a one vampyre kind of guy. If something happens to Jolie, I wouldn’t be hooking up with some other vamp. Would you?”
He understood. “No. I couldn’t.”
“Me either.” Still, Brogan didn't like the idea of being booted from his new family. This had become his rock and foundation in an otherwise lonely life.
“Okay, so let’s go rattle the vampyre cage to find our traitor.”
They walked side by side, like warriors avenging their fallen queen. After seeing them, the family would know that they meant business.
Once arriving in their midst, Jacques scanned their scared faces. Someone there had wanted to hurt the love of his life, and that was a punishable offense.
“We’re here to find the traitor.”
Balzac crossed his arms angrily over his chest. “How do you know there’s even one here? What proof do you have to accuse us of betraying our mistress?”
Neither man was in the mood for the man’s antics.
“How else did the box get inside the house?” Jacques asked, looking around at the vampyres who had gathered.
“Maybe a human came in and left it for her,” Balzac hissed, making it perfectly clear how he felt about Brogan and anyone like him.
There was no love lost there.
Jacques was about to say something in defense of his mate, but instead Brogan signaled that he had this one. Moving past him, he faced down Balzac.
“Let me get this straight,” he began, pausing to stare him in the eyes. “An unknown human came to the door, deactivated the very pricy alarm system, entered into a house where twenty five vampyres wandered around, and no one saw them come or go?”
Balzac just shrugged with an arrogant smirk in place.
“If that’s the case, you vampyres are going to go extinct shortly. If you can’t see a stranger lurking here, you’re ash.”
No one liked what he was implying, especially their spokes-vampyre.
“Want to know what I find interesting, Balzac?”
“What’s that, Detective?”
“You can’t stand the fact that Jolie picked Jacques as a mate. You’ve been harping about it from day one, and then she throws you off your game and finally picks a human to stand at her side too. You loathe that you’ve been replaced, and now all the sudden, a nut job is trying to get rid of us.”
He stared at him, saying nothing.
“They get an invitation into the house to pull this shit. Maybe it’s just the fact that I’m a cop, but I think that’s suspicious. What do you think, Jacques?” he asked, not turning around.
“Oh, if suspicious had a distinct smell, Detective, this shit would be it.”
Balzac was outraged. “I wouldn’t hurt Jolie. She’s our primus, despite how stupid her choices are to share her bed. You and that guardian mongrel of hers are the ones who are going to get her killed, not us. The day she picked him as a mate was her downfall, and the day she decided to keep you instead of just getting inseminated was the day fate was sealed.”
That was the last straw. Balzac may get his jollies by insinuating that Brogan was nothing more than breeding stock, but he wasn’t going to go after Jacques too.
It wasn’t happening.
Quickly, Brogan pulled his nine millimeter, and aimed it at the vampyre’s heart.
There was an audible gasp from the undead in the room.
“You can call me whatever you want, but let’s get one thing straight, Balzac. The only unintelligent thing Jolie ever did was agree to support and take care of your pathetic ass. She gives nonstop, and someone in this room let Genevieve, or one of her helpers, into our home. I personally promise to hold down the traitor while she peels their skin from their corpse.”
Jacques stepped to Brogan’s side, and his eyes had bled black. When he hissed, the razor sharp fangs were clearly visible.
The men in Jolie’s life were taking a stand.
Together.
“Would you really shoot me with that gun, Detective?” sneered Balzac, not buying the act for a single second. “You’re on a very short leash. The mistress won’t be pleased.”
Brogan reached for Jacques’s mind. “Would it kill him?”
“Not if you shot him in the stomach.”
“Good enough for me.”
Brogan lowered the gun and Balzac made a condescending sound, and that ‘I knew you couldn’t do it smile’. It was wiped off his face when he heard the two gunshots.
Everyone in the family gasped, stepping back in shock as the blood began pooling on Balzac’s shirt.
The bullets dropped to the wood floor as they were pushed from his body.
“That looked like it burned like hell,” stated Jacques, watching the man carefully. If he went for Flynn, there would be a bloodbath.
“You shot me!” It was more a statement than a question.
He discharged the clip and pulled a different one from his back pocket. The slide and click of metal had everyone’s attention. In fact, it scared all the younger vampyres.
“Yeah, and now I’ve removed the standard bullets to use the special silver ones, so don’t fuck with me. If I find out you were the one who helped Genevieve hurt Jolie, I won’t sneak up on you. I’ll walk right up to you and put the entire clip in your heart, and anyone else who stands with you.”
Jacques made sure the family knew where they stood. In this, they were a united front.
Brogan turned to the family. “Now, here is just something to think about. If you know who was involved in this, you need to immediately come to us. Leave it in a note under our door for all I care. If you don’t, and we find out who did this and that you protected them, I will kill you just for the hell of it. You know how crazy we humans are.”
Balzac sputtered. “Jolie would never allow that.”
Jacques laughed, making his fangs ascend back into his mouth. “You better pray, Balzac, that we find the traitor first, because we will go far easier on them than she will. Jolie will do what she promised. One of you is going to be artwork in our home.”
A few members of the family looked horrified, and then they looked around accusingly, trying to find the traitor in their midst. No one wanted to incur the wrath of the mistress, and now her human.
Brogan put away his gun, knowing if Balzac went for him, Jacques would have his back. “Get me the dry cleaning bill,” he offered, as he and Jacques headed out of the room to go watch over Jolie.
“I think you scared them shitless,” Jacques said, grinning as they climbed the staircase.
“Good. I’m not happy with any of them right now.”
Jacques took a chance and dropped his arm over the man’s shoulders in camaraderie. “Shall we go wait for our heart to wake and come back to us?” he asked.
Brogan glanced over and smiled. “Absolutely, my friend. Absolutely.”
∞ Chapter Thirteen ∞
Saturday Mid-Morning
Jacques remained on guard as Jolie and Brogan slept in their bed. After returning from terrifying the family, he suggested Flynn get some rest. While he planned on grabbing the first shift of sleep, Jacques noticed their hum
an looked a little worn down. Instead, he opted to handle some other things on his to do list.
For a little while, he had been able to hear the soft even breathing of the detective, and then the tempo changed.
Now every few minutes, Flynn would toss and turn, rolling all over the place as he bumped into Jolie’s body. Finally, it appeared that he had given up.
“Forget it. I’m not going to sleep anymore,” he said from the bed while Jacques stared at him.
“Did you rest at all, mon ami?”
“Yeah, I guess I did for a little while.” He sat up and stretched. It was hard not to notice how unflappable Jacques always appeared to be. “You always look calm. It’s irritating as hell.”
Jacques raised an eyebrow and closed the book. Obviously, the man was stirred up, and he didn't think it was only because of the situation earlier. Flynn was generally calm, and now he was anything but.
“Do you want to tell me what has you riled up?”
Brogan couldn’t put his finger on it. “I wish I knew.” Instead, he changed the subject. “What are you reading?” he asked, climbing from their bed.
“I’m reading ‘La Tour de Nesle’ for the thousandth time.”
“Dumas?”
“Oui.” Jacques was impressed that the man was able to identify the author so easily.
When Brogan stalked over and dropped down into Jolie’s reading chair, he sighed.
“Okay, spill it. This isn't like you.”
Where to even begin? “I feel edgy and worked up.”
“It’s probably because you haven’t fed in a while, Flynn. If you need energy, you need to start bringing it up. Each one of us is different. You may be ‘hungry’ at different times than we are. This need is no different than the one where you consume food.”
“Yeah, well, I didn’t expect last night’s little adventure,” he offered, not able to remember when he ate last either, “or I would have mentioned something.”
“I’ll call Chloe for us. I should feed before I rest, and then I’ll take care of you so that you can survive the day without us.” Jacques reached for their donor, relaying his message.