Silenced by the Grave

by Lina Gardiner

  It likely wasn’t a mistake that this bar had been situated near the business section of the city, a section that closed down at five p.m. and was virtually dead at night. Good thing, considering the number of vampires in this place.

  Jess scouted her surroundings. She’d bet there were two vampires for every human in here. The humans had to be aware of the vampires since they were sitting and drinking side-by-side.

  They were taken to a table that always seemed to be open for Veronique. Another question Jess wanted answers to—wasn’t it odd for a cop to be given the special treatment in a vampire bar? Did she have alliances with these creatures that went beyond the Pact?

  Vlad came in shortly after they arrived, dressed in an expensive silk suit and tie. His shoes were leather and shiny to the point that the lights of the bar reflected off them.

  He spotted them instantly and headed their way.

  Jess and Britt shared a suspicious glance.

  “Good evening, ladies,” he said. “Mr. Brittain.”

  “How nice to see you,” Veronique said, staring into his eyes. “Would you care to join us?”

  Had Veronique been enthralled by him? Was she a pawn for his evil purposes? And, if they were supposed to be coming up with ideas on the serial killer case, why would she invite Vlad to sit with them?

  “I would love to. But if you don’t mind, I have a little business to attend to first. A friend is expecting me.” His gaze shifted to stare at a tall, blond shapely woman on the other side of the bar who was obviously eagerly awaiting him.

  “Not a problem,” Veronique said, smiling much more extravagantly than normal.

  Whoa. That was not like her to be so effusive. Usually she kept her emotions tied down tight. She rarely smiled at anyone.

  The waiter arrived to take their drink orders after Vlad left.

  “Nothing for me, thanks,” Jess said. She had no idea where they got their blood, and she wasn’t going to drink here on the off chance it was from unwitting, or unwilling humans. She might be a vampire, but she had her own code of morality.

  Out of the blue, that thought made her wonder about her twin sister. Did she take blood from human hosts? Illicit places had sprung up in New York—places that used and abused weak-willed or thrill-seeking humans. In New York, it didn’t matter that the humans wanted to be bled by a vampire for the short burst of euphoria their bite elicited—the equivalent to getting a quick high. Vampires were popular in clubs nowadays.

  No one commented on the fact that Vlad had gone into his office with the blond. Veronique tried to carry on a conversation but kept glancing at the door.

  Did she love him, or was he controlling her?

  “Getting back to the killings . . .” Britt kept his voice low, obviously hoping the vampires in the place wouldn’t hear.

  “It’s okay,” Veronique said, “you may speak freely here. Vlad has a white noise system that makes it impossible for vampires to hear others’ conversations.”

  “But I can still hear them,” Jess said.

  Veronique leaned toward the end of the table and pressed a button.

  “Did anything happen?” Britt asked.

  “Yes. All I can hear is a low-grade hum. I can barely make out anything beyond this table.”

  “And no one can hear us,” she said.

  “Why would he have a setup like this?” Jess said.

  Veronique looked uncomfortable and shrugged. “But at least it’s coming in handy for us.”

  Jess bit her lip. Who else benefited from this type of secrecy? She was about to question Veronique further when Britt’s warm hand touched her fingers and squeezed.

  “Moving deeper into the tunnels is a problem. It might mean our serial killer is changing his modus operandi,” Britt said. “All of his other victims were left on display for someone to find. But the latest victim might never have been found if someone hadn’t stumbled across her by accident.”

  “I’m afraid you’re correct. And if he moves deeper into the tunnels, it’ll be almost impossible to catch him,” Veronique said. “I’m pulling my men out of the tunnel near LaCave, for now.”

  Jess silently congratulated Veronique. She’d managed to drag her attention away from Vlad and pull it back to the discussion.

  “I’m guessing your chief will want you to maintain undercover surveillance near LaCave?” Jess said. After all, she had mentioned it earlier today.

  “Oui, you’re right. I’ll have to make a compelling argument against having a police presence in the tunnels, because right now, we’re merely driving this deviant deeper into the catacombs,” Veronique said.

  “Surely your chief will understand that constant surveillance isn’t saving anyone. Or at least, it hasn’t yet,” Britt said.

  “It may already be too late. We might have driven the killer to use an alternate killing field. He might not return,” Jess said.

  Britt cleared his throat. “I think he will. I think he’s leaving his kills where they can be found because he wants the recognition. He needs to kill, but he also needs the glory. The news in the papers. On the internet.”

  Veronique added, “He may trip himself up in the search for glorification. At least, we can hope it happens that way.”

  “Britt and I will spend more time in the club, just in case.” Jess tapped her nails on the oak table. And, maybe, she and Britt could keep an eye on Diesel. It wasn’t that she wanted to blame Diesel, but she’d been almost positive it had been him in the alley the other night. Almost. She wouldn’t give Veronique his name until she was sure.

  Britt clasped his hands on the table. “I’m with you, doll. We can do a random check at the club a couple of nights a week at least.”

  She knew Morana, her dear sister, would just love having Jess and Britt hanging around the club. Jess tipped her head and grinned unconsciously. Then someone stopped at their table.

  “Shall I sit beside you, Captain LaFontaine?” Vlad asked in his sultry vampire voice.

  Veronique scooted over quickly, and Vlad’s impressively large body slid in beside her until his thigh must surely be pressing against hers. She could hardly fault Veronique for loving a vampire.

  Unfortunately, doing so could compromise her work in the field and in the office, given the tenuous situation in Paris these days. Maybe that’s what Vlad was up to.

  Vlad barely took his assessing gaze off Jess.

  Jess held his gaze in order to prove she felt no need to revere an olde one. It was a tiny white lie she told herself, because deep down, his hypnotic pheromones tried to pull her into the blackest void of all.

  “It’s a pleasure to see you here again tonight,” Vlad said at last. “As well as a bit of a surprise. I understand you’ve been spending a lot of time in the catacombs lately? Nothing we should be concerned about, I hope?”

  Huh. Obviously, even Vlad was considering that the murders might be related to vampire attacks.

  “It’s too soon to tell,” Veronique said, her lips a thin line while Vlad continued to stare at Jess.

  Not impressed with his obvious attempt to test her will, Jess turned her attention to Britt.

  Britt didn’t like what was going on either. His eyes were mirrors to an angry soul. He looked relieved when she shifted her gaze to him, though. Maybe he thought Vlad had her under his spell, too?

  Vlad turned his attention to Britt now, with eyes that always seemed to be black. It appeared that he was trying to break into Britt’s subconscious, but not for long. Maybe he couldn’t delve into a man with angelic DNA, because he suddenly looked disconcerted that his attempt had failed.

  “I hear you’re working with the police, Mr. Brittain,” he said. “Are you an officer of the law, as well?”

  “Merely a consultant. We’re here on vacation in France,” he said.

  Vlad nodded, but his eyes narrowed just enough to prove his irritation at Britt’s answer. “What brings you to this part of the city tonight?”

  “Just dropped in
for a beer,” Britt said.

  Veronique had remained unusually quiet in Vlad’s presence. She’d even tried to calm her unruly hair a couple of times.

  From now on, there’d be a lot less sharing of information with Veronique LaFontaine until Jess figured out what the connection was between her and this massive vampire. And, right now, she needed to know what part he played in the group that oversaw the Pact, if any.

  “Do you two work together on police matters?” Jess asked Vlad.

  For just a second, his hard features softened on Veronique, or was that her imagination?

  Jess had considered herself to be unique—vampires couldn’t actually love a human. But maybe she’d been wrong.

  Veronique’s gaze sharpened, and she pursed her lips. “Of course not. We are merely acquaintances.”

  She’d just lied. Jess sensed Britt’s anger at Veronique’s words and squeezed his hand.

  A waiter approached. “You’re needed in the office, sir,” he said.

  Vlad glanced at his watch. “I have another meeting. Please excuse me,” he said, sliding out from the seat. “Bronson, get a round of drinks for this table,” he said. Then he tipped his head without really looking at any of them and left.

  “He owns the bar,” Veronique explained, almost embarrassed. Maybe, because she could see the distrust brewing in Jess’s gaze.

  Chapter Seven

  “I DON’T LIKE the way he looks at you.” Britt slammed the apartment door and locked it behind him. “He’s up to something, and it better not be making you one of his coven.”

  Jess laughed. “He’s not a warlock, Britt.”

  “No, he’s an evil bastard, and he can’t have you. You’re mine!” At that, Britt’s back stiffened and he dared a glance at her. His proprietary comment wouldn’t go down well. Hell! It was a fact that olde vampires could affect younger ones by forcing them to revere them, to do their bidding through mind control.

  She didn’t smile at him, but her features had softened. “As hard as it is to believe that a cold, heartless vampire can say this—I love you, Mr. Brittain. There will never be another man for me. And I have absolutely no interest in Vlad, other than wanting to know what he’s up to.”

  He wanted to bite his tongue. “Don’t say there will never be another, Jess. You will live long past me, and you need love in your life.”

  “There was no one before you came along, and there’ll be no one after you’re gone,” she said tightly. “Let’s not talk about things like that. Not at a time like this.”

  “What time is it?” Britt asked.

  Jess lifted her arm to show him her watch. Four thirty a.m. “Time enough for me to prove just how much I love you.”

  Britt’s heart skipped a beat and then sped up. He grinned at her. “You little vixen. What did you have in mind?”

  “How about a bubble bath in that great big soaker tub down the hall?”

  “The one that’s so big, it looks like it belonged to Nero?”

  “Um hum . . .”

  He stripped off his leather jacket and threw it in a ball on the sofa, then waited for her to do the same. They took turns removing articles of clothing as they walked down the hall.

  By the time the tub was full, they’d already made love against the bathroom door. Jess wrapped her legs around his hips and actually groaned in pleasure. They continued their lovemaking in the tub and again after they’d dried each other off in the bedroom.

  Completely sated, Britt pulled on his silk pajama bottoms and wrapped his arms around her still-naked body.

  “I didn’t expect the evening to end like this,” he admitted.

  “I was hoping,” she said. “It’s been a while.”

  He nuzzled her neck. “Too long.” He began to run his hand up her side.

  She stopped him. “It’s too late now, my love. I can already feel the fingers of death reaching out for me. I must go. See you at dusk?”

  He smiled at her and wanted to wrap her in his arms, to use his blue light until she was human, but he’d already tried that and it hadn’t worked.

  She kissed the tip of his nose and then his lips. “Don’t get into any trouble while I’m in stasis.”

  “I’ll try not to,” he said. “But I can look after myself, you know.”

  “I know. I know it only too well.” She stood and padded away from him, her perfect butt giving him an image to remember during the day.

  He followed her to her room, where she slipped into a black silk nightgown then crawled onto her bed and settled back against the pillow. He pulled the sheet over her, and she winked at him.

  “I won’t be cold.”

  “I know. Just want you to be comfortable,” he said.

  She shook her head, but even now, her movements were stiffening. “I love—”

  “I love you, too,” he said. She’d become, for all intents and purposes, dead to him, and to the world.

  He didn’t bother to go to bed. He’d never sleep now. Nor was he tired. He’d grab a few hours of sleep later, maybe, before Jess woke.

  He changed into jeans and a T-shirt and went out for breakfast. It was too early to visit Regent and Sampson, and he’d avoid Veronique, even if she was awake.

  On the other hand, maybe it would be a good idea to do a little surveillance on Captain LaFontaine? He pulled out his smart phone and searched online for her address.

  Nothing. Of course not. A cop wouldn’t advertise where she lived so every criminal in the area could find her.

  Instead, he went to the station. She’d been up half the night, so there was no way she’d be at work yet. “Bonjour, Pierre,” he said to the officer behind the desk. He knew a lot of the men here, now.

  “Monsieur Brittain, good morning,” Pierre said. “Captain LaFontaine, she is not here.”

  “I thought I’d stop by her place and talk to her before she comes to work today, but I don’t know her address,” he said. He expected Pierre to turn him down, to tell him he couldn’t share that kind of information. But, instead, he offered it up easily.

  Bonus.

  “Thanks, Pierre,” he said. “See you later.”

  “A bientot.”

  Taking a taxi was the easiest way to find the street without wandering aimlessly around the city. Good thing he hadn’t walked, because she lived half an hour from the station in a newer neighborhood. Her apartment building had only four stories, and when he checked the directory at the front door, he saw that she lived on the second floor.

  He looked up and down the street and spied a good surveillance point. How lucky to find a café opposite her apartment—unless she looked out of her window and spotted him.

  At one point, he thought he saw the curtains move on the second floor then drop back into place.

  He hit pay dirt when she left the apartment half an hour later, dressed in black short length pants and a filmy polka-dot blouse. Even her shoes seemed out of character—at least out of character for the woman he knew as Captain LaFontaine. She wore high heels.

  He quickly threw money on the table and followed at a distance.

  She strode along at a good clip in those heels, too. That meant she wore them more than he’d considered possible for a cop who wore drab, oversized clothes and flat shoes on the job.

  Hopefully, she wasn’t simply going out for tea with a friend. After their meeting in Vlad’s bar, he had to at least do a cursory check on her, even if it was just to satisfy his curiosity.

  She stopped once and looked back.

  Damn, he must be too close. She’d felt someone watching her. He’d ducked into a store entry.

  When he peered out again, she’d travelled nearly a block down the street. He crossed to the other side and followed much more carefully now. He should have realized she’d sense someone on her tail if he got too close.

  He paused behind a van and watched her through the vehicle windows the next time she stopped and looked around. That was just before she entered a brick factory of so
me sort.

  The edifice looked to be hundreds of years old but was still in operation. The sign over the store read, Quel Savon. He had no idea what that meant, but the air here was strong with the scent of something floral, so he guessed it might be perfume.

  After she went inside, he crossed carefully and looked into the storefront sales room. Soap. It had every size, shape, and color of soap inside. But Veronique was nowhere to be seen. She must have gone through the shop and into the back. Had she given him the slip?

  He hung around on the other side of the street and was about to give up when she finally exited the building again. After stepping onto the sidewalk, she looked around to make sure she wasn’t being watched. Luckily, she didn’t notice him from his position inside the tobacco store across the street. Disappointment clawed at him. He’d wanted to be wrong about her, but she had nothing in her hands. Not a purchase to be seen.

  She strode quickly down the sidewalk. Probably in a hurry to change into her police clothes in order to be at work on time. No sense following her home.

  He glanced at the shop again. Soap. Hmmm. He and Jess should check this place out later tonight. He felt a little guilty about that. Maybe the focus should be on vampires and not on a fellow cop, but she’d given off an odd vibe in the club the other night. He needed to know if he could trust her.

  After buying a couple of cigars he didn’t want in order to appease the curious shop owner, he left the store and headed back to their new and lavish apartment. He stopped and picked up some French bread on the way, and as an afterthought, a thick steak and fresh mushrooms. His stomach growled.

  The sun hung low on the horizon when he cooked his dinner. He had everything cleared up and was drinking a glass of red wine when Jess came out. He hadn’t slept all day, and he still felt like he could go another forty-eight hours.

  Jess looked perfect in her leathers. He wished he could offer her a glass of wine. It would be nice to sit and chat and share a drink, but that could never happen.

  “Hey you,” she said. “Have you slept? You’re in the same clothes you had on when I went to bed.”