Veronique stared at the dead woman again. “I’d say we’re back to the theory that our predator is trolling LaCave for his victims.”
Britt inhaled while he focused hard on the crime scene. They couldn’t touch the body yet, but they could take a good hard look for any evidence that might’ve been missed.
“Unfortunately, I think that’s true. These women are being selected when they’re at the club,” he said, biting the inside of his cheek. He decided to say the next part, whether she liked it or not. “Did you know that your vampire friend Vlad comes to the club occasionally?”
Veronique stiffened and glanced furtively at the other cops. “Watch it, Brittain! Don’t overstep your bounds.”
He doubted the other cops had heard him since he’d practically whispered Vlad’s name. That begged the question, why was Veronique afraid they’d hear?
“Was he at the club that night?” she asked, trying her hardest to look unconcerned. “I mean, the night we thought it was you who had murdered the first victim?”
“I’m not sure,” Britt said. “I hadn’t met him at that point. And we didn’t think there were other vampires frequenting the club, other than Morana and her cohort at that time.”
“Cohort? There’s another vampire working in the club?”
Britt scowled openly. “I thought you had ways to spot vampires? That’s what you said.”
“I know, but my method is hit and miss. I’m not as perceptive as you are, it seems.”
“I wish I’d been perceptive the first time I was a cop,” Britt said wistfully, then wished he’d kept his mouth shut. He didn’t want her asking questions about his cop days. Nor would he answer any questions about how Randy Starr, his partner back then, had been a vampire. Randy had framed him by making it look as if Britt had murdered him—an easy thing to do since Randy was technically dead and had no heartbeat. The bastard had changed Britt’s life forever.
Britt had nearly gone to prison for murder.
“How did you learn to spot them?” she asked, breaking him away from his memories.
“It just came naturally after a while.” That wasn’t a lie. When he met Jess and started working with the team, something clicked. He suddenly had a sense of who the vampires were. It might’ve been part of his growing angelic abilities, but he couldn’t tell Veronique that.
“Okay,” she said. By the tone of her voice, she’d given up for now. “I’d say this killing is exactly like the last one—it’s definitely the same killer.”
They stood several feet from the victim, and from this distance, the gruesome image of the woman lying on the cold tunnel floor took on an even more macabre aura. She’d been positioned exactly like the others and had been just as brutally murdered.
“We have to catch this bastard before he kills again,” he said vehemently.
Veronique shoved her latex gloves into the pocket of her forensic suit and tucked loose strands of her matted hair back into the hoodie. “If you think of a way, be sure to let me know. We’ve had spotters on the entrance for weeks, and there’ve been undercover officers at the club every evening. We even managed to install cameras without the knowledge of the bar owners. If there’s a killer in their midst, we should be able to spot him. We know he targets blond women in their late twenties. At least that will help in monitoring the crowd.”
The cameras were good news to Britt. “Have you gone over the video for last night?”
“No. I’ll do that when I get back to the office.”
“May I come along and watch it with you?” he asked. “Maybe another set of eyes will help.”
She made a face that wrinkled the bridge of her nose. “It can’t hurt, that’s for damn sure. Let’s go and take a look.”
She told her officers that the body could be removed and that she wanted to be notified when the coroner finished.
On the way to the police precinct, Britt asked, “Have you had any other vampire incidents during the times of the killings?”
“What do you mean?”
“Have there been any other murders around the same time as our serial cases? Proven vampire killings?”
“Mais non! Définitivement non!” she said.
He must’ve rattled her. She usually spoke English to him because he didn’t understand her language. Only, he understood her this time. Non meant no.
“Why are you so adamant about this? Would it be such a shock if vampires attacked humans in Paris? It happens in New York City more often than we care to admit. Vampires are wild creatures, not easy to control,” Britt said, thinking it’d be nice if she’d explain the difference between the so-called civilized vampires of Europe. He didn’t believe for a minute that the European vamps were free of the same foul urges. Maybe they were even darker and more dangerous because of their age and knowledge. They certainly had the means and the ability to keep their kills under wraps. That said, whoever was murdering these women didn’t want to hide their kills.
He and Jess had come across three olde vampires in New York, and he’d sensed evil in the olde ones, right down to their genetic level. They weren’t passive, and he didn’t believe they’d have ever followed the Pact with the French police.
Back at the station, they sat in front of an ancient TV screen. Veronique shoved the tape into the equally aged video player and turned on the feed.
“The camera is very clear,” he said.
She nodded while she stared at the screen and chewed on the end of her pen. “Get ready for a long and boring evening.”
“Is there any coffee?” he asked an hour later, rubbing his eyes.
“Across the hall in the little kitchenette. I warn you though, it’s the worst coffee on the planet.”
He grinned. “Want a cup?
“Sure, I’ve grown used to it. Two cream and three sugar.”
“Ten-four.” Holy hell, three sugars. She sure liked her coffee sweet.
After he got back and took a slug, he understood the sugar overload. It would be the only thing that made this vile liquid palatable.
They’d been watching the screen for another hour when he spotted Morana and Diesel behind the bar. “Doesn’t a camera cover the bar all the time?” he asked, realizing he hadn’t spotted them before this.
“It should, yes,” Veronique said, “but there was one screen that was fogged over. I assumed it was just a condensation problem, but you’re thinking it was deliberate, aren’t you?”
“Can we rewind?” he asked.
“Of course,” she said, frowning. She hit a button and rewound the tape. Did they even know it was there?
“That’s weird,” Veronique said, squinting at the foggy screen.
“Wait, it is clearing up.”
Britt had been in the cavern dozens of times, and it was cool down there, cool enough that people had to wear warmer clothes than they did on the streets. “Maybe there’s a heater below that camera, and it caused the condensation?” he said, more to himself than anything else.
“Why would it be that one and not the others?” Veronique said.
He shrugged. “Let’s check it out tomorrow during the day.” No way did he think one of the many cameras in the room was more susceptible to condensation than the others. And that made him wonder who had access to the bar when no one else was around.
JESS READ BRITT’S text on her phone shortly after she rose from her undead slumber. He was still at the police station and wouldn’t be free anytime soon, so she got dressed and made her way to Regent’s apartment.
It was like old times talking and reminiscing. He’d been away a lot lately, so it was nice to catch up. It didn’t escape her that he wasn’t thrilled when she tried to find out what he’d been doing. That was unlike him, and she had to wonder if it was because the Church was putting pressure on him to accomplish something he couldn’t or wouldn’t talk about.
“How could we not have known about having a sister?” Regent said, changing the subject. “We might’ve been able to
help her. Maybe she wouldn’t be a vampire today if she’d grown up with us.”
“I can’t even see that as a possibility,” Jess said. “Especially since the odds of her being a vampire are a zillion to one. How could it have happened to both of us?” She paced to the window and looked toward the horizon. “And how could Sinclair have helped her to grow? You know how difficult it was for you to help baby Sephina. That means this Sinclair character must have some pretty cool tricks up his sleeve.”
“True. We need to find out how he did it. Maybe he could help you, too.”
Jess looked at Regent seriously. “Morana is still a vampire.”
Regent’s shoulders drooped. “Oh, right. I guess that solution is out of the question. I don’t know what I was thinking.”
Suddenly he looked tired, and she felt guilty about keeping him up all night. When she stood to leave, her cell phone’s dawn-alert vibrated. “Gotta go. See you later,” she said. At least it was Saturday, and Regent could get some sleep now—he always had Saturday off.
Striding down the sidewalk, she realized that going back to their apartment was a lot more appealing now that she and Britt had moved into the new building. Since she’d invested wisely over the years and had enough money to last her several lifetimes, she’d been able to buy a partially finished building. With lots of cash on hand, it was easy to get the top floor made specifically to her parameters in just a little over a week. Top floor first, with the rest still under construction.
Sampson’s lab would be set up in the basement, even though they’d only be here another two months. She wanted him to be as effective here in France as he was in his own laboratory in New York.
There was probably a spring in her step when she pushed the door open and crossed the threshold into her brighter and more modern living space. Making her way to her room for stasis, she appreciated the bigger area with inside window shutters. She’d been about to close her bedroom door when she heard the apartment door security lock buttons being pressed.
She waited, even though her limbs were beginning to stiffen; she still had time before stasis enveloped her.
Britt opened the door without noticing her at first. His spirits seemed deflated before he caught her watching him. He instantly adjusted his mood by pasting on a quick half-smile and admiring her body. Neat trick. Too bad he’d already given away how he was really feeling.
“Anything new?”
“It’s the same serial killer, Jess.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.”
“Who is it, then?” She edged stiffly into the living room, a huge vaulted room with a fireplace and modern furniture similar to her place in New York City.
He followed and plunked onto the comfiest chair in the room. His favorite chair—just big enough for two. She slid in beside him. After all, she still had a few minutes.
“We went over video tapes of the club for the last few hours, but neither of us spotted anything out of the ordinary. Other than one camera fogging up.”
“Cameras? In the club? Odd that we didn’t notice them.”
“Oh yeah, Veronique had them installed during the day. The cameras are very small and strategically placed—no one will notice them unless they know they’re there.”
Jess tapped her lip with her index finger and thought about that. “I wonder if that’ll be a problem for Morana, since they have a blood bar for the occasional vampire. Isn’t it supposed to be against the law to serve blood to vampires in Paris?”
“That doesn’t stop Vlad. Veronique is well aware of the contraband being served at his bar,” he said.
Suddenly, he grabbed Jess’s hands. “Wait! I can’t believe I didn’t ask you. What about the VNA report?” He ran a hand over his face. “It’s been two days . . . I should have asked.”
Jess chewed on her lip. “She is my sister,” she said. “According to Sampson’s results, Morana Longina is my twin sister.”
“Holy crap,” he said. “That’s not what I expected to hear.”
“Me, either. As you can imagine, Regent is over the moon about it. I just don’t understand it, Britt. I thought twins had some sort of connection, but I don’t feel anything toward this woman.”
He stroked her hair. “Maybe it’s because she’s a vampire.”
Jess opened her mouth but didn’t get a chance to speak.
“Don’t even go there, doll. She isn’t like you,” he said. “Not even a little.”
“But, Britt, don’t you think it’s funny that she and Diesel can hold down a job? They make drinks for humans all night, every night. Why are they able to do that? What makes them able to maintain a sense of self, and not just be killing machines?”
“Don’t do this to yourself. You’re thinking you’re worse than she, aren’t you? You think that you must be darker because it takes prayers to keep you in the light, right?”
She shrugged. “Well, doesn’t it mean that? If Regent hadn’t prayed over me for weeks, I’d have gone down that same dark path that most New York vampires traverse.”
“You don’t know that for sure,” Britt said.
“I know I have to fight every night to retain a portion of my humanity. I feel the seductive lure of the darkness, Britt. It repels me, but at the same time, it’s seducing me to come to it. Do you know how many times I’ve thought it would be easy to give in, to bite someone’s neck and lose myself in the beastly pleasure of it?”
Britt took a second before answering. “I know your strengths, and I know it’s hard not to compare yourself with other vampires, but you aren’t the same. Not now, and not ever.”
She pursed her lips and looked away, hoping she’d never give him a reason to lose his faith in her.
“I don’t know how Morana works with humans without giving herself away. And then there’s Diesel—he’s doing it, too. Why are the vampires in New York City unable to control their bloodlust long enough to sit in a room, let alone tend bar? Vampires here must have some method of keeping themselves under control.”
“Maybe, but they can’t go out in the light, and they don’t try to save humans. They don’t have a partial soul,” Britt stressed.
“Maybe I don’t have a partial soul either. Maybe I’m just deluding myself.”
Britt’s lips crushed down on hers while she was still talking. She fought him for a fraction of a second, then melted into the kiss. His heartbeat telegraphed through the tips of her fingers pressing against his chest, and when he finally stopped kissing her, he let his thumb trail over her bottom lip before saying, “You must believe me when I tell you, you have a soul because without one, no woman could set a man on fire the way you do.”
“I’m not sure I agree with your reasoning. Sex isn’t necessarily related to having humanity.”
“Did I say sex?” He entwined his fingers with hers and stared lovingly into her eyes. “No, my darling, I mean love. You love me—don’t try to deny it—and you know how much I love you. That wouldn’t happen if you were a soulless vampire. There’d be no real connection of souls. Only lust, lust for sex, lust for blood, lust for maintaining one’s body.”
“Is that how you see Morana?” Jess asked.
“Unfortunately, yes. Just because there’s a possibility that you’re twins, that doesn’t mean you’re exactly alike.” He obviously still didn’t believe the data, and she liked his suspicious nature.
“But Regent thinks—”
Leaning against the back of the sofa, Britt pulled her against him. “We’ll just have to make Regent understand that Morana is a vampire without a soul.”
“Wow, you really don’t care for her, do you,” Jess said, considering the idea that Britt might be right about Morana.
Regent would push for Morana to join the family, but she might not like being coerced.
Sister or not, if Morana hurt Regent, she’d never know what hit her.
Chapter Four
MORANA LONGINA didn’t go to work that night. Diesel would be tick
ed, but he’d survive without her for one night. Because there was no way she’d be able to keep her bitchiness at bay if she went into the club tonight. She bit her lip and slammed her hand into a brick wall, sending debris flying and leaving a fist-sized hole. Unwarranted emotion wasn’t part of her makeup, or at least, not the unsure type of emotion. She knew anger very well. What she didn’t know was how to handle the fact that she had a brother and sister.
A partial moon hung over the city tonight, and she hurried away from the tourist areas where stupid people spent too much time smiling and laughing and getting in her way. She’d never supped from a tourist. She followed the Pact because the Hierarchy frowned on vampires hurting their bottom line. Most of them had businesses that flourished because of tourism, and she suspected their Pact had more to do with that than keeping the peace with humans.
She rounded a corner and nearly ran into an elderly man lurking in the shadows. “Move, old man,” she growled.
“That’s not very nice, Morana. Aren’t you supposed to make yourself invisible to humans?”
“You have no idea who you’re messing with,” she said between teeth clenched together. But her eyeteeth had a mind of their own.
His breathing sounded labored, and she wondered why she couldn’t see him more clearly in the dark. He seemed somehow blurred. She rubbed one eye and frowned at him. “How do you know who I am?”
“I’ve been watching you for a while. I’m quite impressed with your abilities.”
She inhaled, smelled the disgusting scent of soap on him, heard his blood rushing in his veins and his heart pumping rhythmically. He wasn’t even the least bit nervous, and he had to be able to see her teeth by now.
“You expect me to believe a human could follow me, and I wouldn’t be aware?” she said, shaking her head. “You’re lucky I don’t rip your neck open and drink you dry.”
“You wouldn’t do that. Especially not tonight, after you’ve just learned you have relatives you never knew. You don’t know whom to trust anymore. Sinclair has been lying to you, hasn’t he?”
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