Silenced by the Grave

by Lina Gardiner

  When she returned, she said, “Nevertheless, it was not me, Monsieur Brittain. You say you had a run in with vampires? They attacked you?”

  Evidently, whoever Veronique was with knew about vampires because she was speaking openly.

  Britt’s lips compressed—her guest was most likely a vampire, too. “We had to fight two big bruisers with a lot of years under their hides. They’ve moved on to the next realm, wherever that might be,” he said.

  “It sounds as if you were set up,” she said.

  “It does sound like that,” Jess said from her position next to Britt. “But I’d swear it was you I was speaking to.”

  “No, it wasn’t me,” she said. Again, the muffled voice said something in the background.

  Jess frowned at Britt. He acknowledged that look.

  “Are you both okay?” Veronique said, back on the line again.

  “Barely a scratch,” Jess said. “Though, it did take a little more cardio than we’ve used in a while. Overall, it was a good workout. It was them or us; we had no choice.”

  Veronique inhaled sharply. “You really must be impressive fighters. Maybe some time, I’ll have the good fortune to witness you both in action.”

  Britt’s footsteps stalled. “Holy crap, what if that’s it? What if someone sent them to test us? To see if we’d win against their most impressive fighters?”

  “And you gave them the information they needed,” Veronique replied seriously. “Not good, mes amis, not good.”

  “What’s going on here? Why would they attack us with the Pact fully in place? Most vampires are afraid to break the rules. We met a few who’d verified that fact a few weeks ago.”

  “Have you been doing something that might cause vampires to come after you?” Veronique asked.

  “Not lately.” But hell, maybe they were digging too deep into vampire secrets. They’d broken into the soap factory, for one thing. Was that what this was about? Did Vlad know who’d broken in? He’d probably smelled it on them in LeCave.

  “This is very worrisome,” Veronique said. “And to be honest, I’m not sure what we should do about it.”

  “We’ll try to stay out of trouble the rest of the night,” Jess said. “But if trouble comes knocking, we can’t promise to do no harm.”

  “That is understandable,” Veronique said. “But try not to get involved. If you kill vampires who are members of the Pact, we’ll be in deep shit.”

  Interesting. They’d been led to believe all vampires in Paris had to follow the Pact. Britt was getting tired of the hazy layers of information they had to dig through to get a straight answer.

  “Yeah, well, we must’ve been set up. Whoever called, they managed to make us believe it was you on the phone,” he said. “Are you at work?”

  She paused a moment too long. “Yes, I am. Are you going straight home after your ordeal, or is there something my team should take care of?”

  “No, the vampires were old; they turned to dust quite successfully.”

  The silence at the other end of the phone told him she’d been attempting to figure out how to handle the situation if the Pact had been breached tonight. He didn’t think it had.

  “I’ll send a couple of my team members over to investigate the area, nevertheless. May I have the location?”

  He gave it to her.

  “Thank you. Glad you’re both okay. Go home, and take a break from the city tonight.”

  Had that been an order or a suggestion? His brows arched. “We’ll say goodnight then,” he said, then narrowed his gaze at the phone while he shut it off and tipped his head at Jess. “We’re not going home, are we?”

  She shook her head back and forth, slowly. “No way in hell. We are definitely not going home now.”

  “We’re going to check on Veronique, aren’t we?”

  “Damned straight.”

  “You don’t think she’s at work either, do you?” Britt asked.

  “If she’s not at the precinct or at home, the vampire bar would be my next best guess.”

  A short time later they stood outside Veronique’s apartment. Her lights were on.

  “I can’t believe one of the cops gave you her address the other day. I’d have that officer’s hide if he worked for me.”

  “I know. But we are working together, so I guess he figured I’m one of the team.”

  They moved into a shadowed recess with a perfect view of Veronique’s windows. “If anyone sees us, we can make out like lovesick fools. Nobody looks twice at lovers kissing in Paris.” He quickly pulled her against him and nuzzled her neck to prove the point. She tasted better than she looked, if that was even remotely possible. “On the other hand, why wait. I’ve been wanting to do this all night,” he murmured against the soft spot below her ear.

  He couldn’t get enough of her most times, but that teasing glimpse of cleavage and butter-soft leather clinging to all of her best assets could very easily derail his attention.

  “Look at that.” Jess pointed at the second-story window where Veronique stood before pulling the curtains shut. “She is at home. Why’d she lie and tell us she was at work?”

  “Too bad we can’t find out who’s in there with her.”

  “Why can’t we?” Jess said in the voice she’d adopted for her cat-burglar persona. “She’s got a balcony off the bedroom. I could get up there and open the patio door enough to hear what’s going on inside.”

  “What if they move into the bedroom? That balcony is completely open. You’d have no place to hide. And it’d be hard to explain to Veronique if she caught you.”

  “We’d say we were walking by and noticed someone was inside. Since we thought she was at work, we decided to check to make sure it wasn’t a robber.”

  He groaned. “You really are on a high tonight after fighting those vamps, aren’t you?”

  She laughed. “Wait a minute. The lights just went out.”

  “Maybe she’s already in the bedroom?”

  She poked him in the ribs with an elbow. “You have a one-track mind. Maybe she’s leaving? At any rate, we’ll know in a second.”

  “And, if she’s leaving, we’ll find out if she’s alone,” Britt said.

  JESS’S CELL PHONE vibrated silently on her hip. She turned away from the street and answered. “Hello.”

  “Jess, Regent here. You’ve got to come over right away. We’ve found something,” he said.

  “What do you mean, you found something? Wait a minute, do you mean the raven?”

  “Yes, and you’re not going to believe it. Hurry, dear. We’re at my place.”

  “But—” He’d already hung up.

  “We need to go,” she said to Britt, noting that his attention was still glued to the door across the street.

  “Why?” he asked, not releasing his attention.

  “Regent has found something about the raven, and he sounds very excited. He says we need to go right away.”

  “But we also need to find out who’s with Veronique,” Britt said in a low voice that he used for dark alleyways when vampires might be around.

  The door opened, and Jess’s mouth dropped open. Britt put an arm around her shoulders and pulled her deeper into the corner of the shop entrance.

  They both watched as Veronique left the building with Morana Longina, Jess’s twin sister. They were talking seriously, and neither of them noticed they were being watched.

  “Damn it,” Jess said. “I was sure it would be Vlad in there with her. A lovers’ tryst or something like that.”

  “First the soap factory, and now this. How in hell can Morana be involved?”

  “Looks like we can’t trust anyone in France.” Jess pushed back her shoulder-length hair.

  “What’s new, doll? That’s the way it’s always been for us.”

  “I’d like to follow them, but Regent’s call sounded urgent. We should go to him,” she said.

  There was no doubt that Britt wanted to track Veronique, but he acquiesced. They t
urned and made their way toward Regent’s apartment.

  “Wonder what Regent found?” Jess said.

  “Maybe it’s about the room in the Louvre that held you in its power,” Britt said.

  “I don’t think so,” she said. “That room has nothing to do with the raven.”

  “How do you know?”

  Good question. But she did know. “It’s just a feeling.”

  Paris held a magic all its own. It was rich and historical and amazing, but at the same time, it held echoes of the dead. She felt the darkness lurking under the surface, the souls of the long-lost reaching out to her, warning her about what was coming. Goose bumps broke out on her already cold flesh, and she rubbed at it without thinking.

  “You okay?” he asked, as they strode to Regent’s place.

  “Yeah, just had the feeling someone walked over my grave,” she said.

  At one time, saying something like that would have caused Britt to make a wisecrack. But these days, he knew too well feelings like that often came with a cost.

  WHEN THEY ENTERED the apartment, Regent, Sampson, and Gaston were sitting at the kitchen table with papers spread out around them. And in the center was the book Regent had found at the Palais des Papes, in Avignon.

  Regent rose from his chair and offered it to Jess. She’d never let anyone else do that for her, but her brother was an older man with habits that were engrained. She’d never hurt her brother on purpose.

  “Gentlemen,” she said. “What’s the big news?”

  Regent clasped his hands together. “First of all, Gaston has found the artist we’ve been looking for. This is a painting done by Joseph Emanuel Calmet,” Regent said. “We never would have found it in the Louvre because this particular painting was in the repair room for framing.” He held up a photo of the painting where the raven, in all its glory, filled the page. Upon closer inspection, the artist had again woven intricately painted words into the feathers. A chill ran down her spine.

  “Is it the same language as in your book? Is that why you were so anxious for us to get here?”

  Regent nodded vigorously.

  “And, we believe it’s a message to those who know where to look,” Gaston said.

  Sampson lifted his head to show his pleasure at their find before returning to his laptop.

  “Are you saying you’ve figured out the language?” Britt asked, leaning over the table next to Jess to get a better look.

  Regent clasped his hands together. “Gaston has. He thinks it’s related to the Order of the Bourgeoisie.”

  “That sounds like something I might have learned in history class an eon ago,” Jess said. “But refresh my memory.”

  “The Order of the Bourgeoisie enacted before the French Revolution,” Gaston said with his strong French accent. “There were three social classes: the clergy, the nobility, and the Third Estate, which was everyone else, in that order. This book that Regent found is from that same time period in France’s history. From what we’ve deciphered so far, it indicates that the Order of the Bourgeoisie had another class—a secret one that was known only by a select few.”

  “And?”

  Regent’s face was flushed in excitement. “It’s the Order of the Revenant,” he said. “And, Jess, you’re not going to believe its positioning on the list. This document indicates that the Revenant were second in line after the clergy and before the nobility.”

  Gaston ran his fingers over the letters, staring hard at the piece of document in question. “Hold on. I was wrong. The Revenant were the first, then the clergy, the nobility, and finally the Third Estate—I interpreted it wrong the first time.”

  Jess’s breath halted. She let that information sink into her brain. “Revenant—meaning returning from the dead? What are you saying?”

  “It says the revenant held sway over everyone,” he said. “The clergy was second in class, then the nobility and the Third Estate.” Gaston looked puzzled. “Revenant? What does that mean?”

  Sampson stopped his frantic typing and spoke. “And get this, Jess and Britt. During the French Revolution, there was a dechristianization of France. It started out with removing the Catholic churches, crosses, iconography, but eventually they removed all the symbols of any religion.”

  Jess’s heart was beating a tattoo that was foreign in her chest. “No!”

  “Yes. The Order of the Revenant was systematically wiping out religion in France. They were creating a culture that was conducive to their well-being and their lifestyle, without any churches or iconography to get in their way,” Regent said.

  “And the raven?” Britt asked.

  “It was most likely a symbol for their Order. We believe this group held strong influence in the creation of the Cult of Reason, which was a form of atheistic philosophy for the humans and allowed a near-takeover by the olde guard vampires. They nearly succeeded.”

  Gaston paled. “Vampires?”

  Sampson’s eyes widened, as if he’d just blown their secret. “Sorry, I got a little overzealous with facts.”

  Confusion was written all over Gaston.

  “You didn’t tell him the truth,” Jess said. “None of it?” Namely, vampires are real.

  “We thought it best not to. We didn’t expect this to be the result of our findings, after all,” Regent said.

  “You can’t be saying vampires exist,” Gaston said in a shaky voice.

  “I’m sorry, my friend. I didn’t want to tell you because once you know, it’s forever.”

  “Vampires!” He shook his head in disbelief. “Are you crazy?”

  “I’m afraid they’re real. It’s true,” Regent said.

  Sampson blew out a breath before he continued. “Given this information there’s every reason to believe they’re rebuilding their Order. They’re attempting to regain power and rule the same way they did during the French Revolution. Even the police were banned back then. There was no law, no religion, and wild masquerades were held in the streets. Horror for humans, but existence at its best for vampires.”

  “It’s hard to believe they nearly took over once before,” Britt said in a low voice. “It’s certainly not the history I was taught in school.”

  “Wait a minute,” Gaston said, holding both hands in the air. “Who did you say nearly took over?”

  “I know it’s a shock,” Regent said.

  Gaston looked from one to the other. “And you all believe this to be true?”

  They nodded in unison.

  Jess rubbed a hand over her mouth. “Is it happening again? A French Revolution?” she asked, unable to hide her emotions.

  “What makes you say that?” Regent said.

  “Doesn’t it make sense? The Order must still exist. They failed in their takeover during the 1700s, but they’ve hung on, hoping to regain that power. They’re vampires. They have long lives and longer memories. Maybe the demon uprising was a failed attempt at reinstating the Order?”

  “Demons?” Gaston was starting to look twitchy at their comments.

  “I can’t imagine it would be possible to recreate the French Revolution in this day and age,” Regent said.

  Sampson’s head bobbed behind his laptop screen where he’d obviously been searching for more information before he raised a finger. “I don’t think it is a stretch, at all. Ravens are the Revenant’s symbol. They once used them to promote their Order. And, Regent didn’t tell you the most interesting part—the raven painting we’ve been talking about is a fairly new creation. It’s going on the wall of the Louvre as soon as it’s framed.”

  Gaston nodded. “And it’s a top priority,” he said, still looking as if he wasn’t sure if they should all be on a bus to the loony bin.

  Jess considered that for a minute. “And if Veronique is working with the Revenant? If she’s in on reinitiating the Order?”

  “She’s your friend, Jess. Do you really think she’d sell out humanity like that?”

  Jess bit her lip. “This isn’t the kind of informa
tion we can keep to ourselves. Someone in this country needs to know. They need to formulate a plan of attack against the vampires who are most likely readying for this to happen.”

  Britt paced to the window and looked out. “We have no way of knowing whom we can trust.”

  “I’m onto you now,” Gaston said, leaning forward with a magnifying glass in order to read the tiniest lettering on the feathers of the bird. “It’s a joke. You had me going for a few minutes.”

  Jess looked seriously at Gaston. “You’ve been taken into our confidence, Gaston. Do you truly want to know the truth?”

  A hint of fear glinted behind the man’s deep brown eyes. “I think so.”

  “Because it’s true, you know. A vampire takeover might happen in the near future.”

  He looked at Regent apologetically. “I am a devout Catholic, and your brother is a priest, but it seems so—how do you say it—far-fetched?”

  “It’s important that you know the truth if you’re going to help us with this, because you’ll be putting yourself in danger.”

  “I will?” Gaston asked, swallowing hard. “From vampires?”

  Regent tipped his head, giving her the go-ahead.

  Her teeth lengthened, and her eyes darkened.

  As much as she hated to show herself like this to a human, it was crucial to do so at this point. Gaston proved he had knowledge that would be helpful to them. They needed him. But he had to understand what they were up against.

  When her transition was complete, Gaston inhaled sharply, and his hands gripped the edge of the table. “My God,” he said. “God help me.”

  Britt made a strangled sound, and Jess glanced back to see wings, huge spans of beautiful angelic feathers so large they barely fit into the room.

  “Amazing,” Regent breathed. “I wanted to see those.”

  “Is he a vampire?” Gaston asked, still in turmoil and obviously terrified now.

  “No, he’s an angel.”

  Gaston rubbed his eyes and looked again. “It’s not real. Did you put something in my tea, Father?”

  Regent reached out and touched the top of Gaston’s hand. “This is reality, my friend. The world will never look the same to you again. When Shakespeare said, ‘There are more things in heaven and earth,’ one has to wonder what he really knew.”