Silenced by the Grave

by Lina Gardiner

  Sampson jumped up and got Gaston a glass of water. The poor man drank it too quickly and sputtered water over himself. He inhaled several times and dared a look at Jess and Britt again, tears forming in his eyes.

  “I won’t hurt you,” Jess said. “I don’t hurt humans. I save them from creatures like me.”

  Tears streamed down Gaston’s face.

  Meanwhile, Britt appeared extremely uncomfortable at having wings that were touching the ceiling and filling the room behind him—probably because it had happened without his conscious knowledge. He had no idea how to grow wings let alone know how the wings occurred. It seemed they just grew when the need was great enough.

  Apparently, the need was great at this moment.

  “I missed seeing your wings the first time.” Regent squeezed behind him in order to get a better look. “They’re quite impressive,” he said, reaching out and touching.

  Meanwhile, Gaston’s face had gone sickly pale. “Is he really an angel, or a vampire with wings?”

  “His feet are firmly entrenched in the heavenly side. He is an angel,” Jess said.

  “Maybe not an angel,” Britt qualified, looking uncomfortable with the idea. “But I have angelic DNA. I am the progeny of one of the Fallen.”

  Gaston crossed himself and started to pray out loud. He pulled out a gold cross from under his shirt, kissed it, and looked to heaven.

  “It seems you’ve been tasked to help us in this battle between good and evil,” Regent said, finally moving away from Britt. “And this is something you must swear never to tell another living soul. Our lives depend upon it. Your life depends on it now, too.”

  Gaston was shaking so hard, Jess instinctively reached out to pat his shoulder, but she’d forgotten her features were still vampiric. He jumped back and fell off the chair, then began crawling backward, crablike toward the wall, where he continued to cower. “Father, help me,” he said.

  Regent offered Jess a comforting smile before returning his attention to Gaston. “She will never hurt you. She might be a vampire, but she’s working on the side of the Lord, though she probably has never considered it that way.”

  No. She hadn’t. She barely hung on to her civility most days, but if that’s what it took to sell Gaston to help them, she’d agree. She nodded but wouldn’t make eye contact in case she scared him even more.

  She closed her eyes and imagined her façade to be human again, initiating the change. She’d never felt dirtier. Pretending to be an agent of goodness was more than her dark soul could endure. Truth was, without partial salvation, she’d be an evil vampire right now. Suddenly, she knew exactly what she’d look like if she lost that last remnant of her soul—Morana. Or did Morana have more humanity than she realized?

  Britt had also lost his wings.

  Sampson jumped out of his chair and offered Gaston a hand up.

  “It’s okay, Gaston, we won’t hurt you. I know it’s a shock to the system the first time. I must warn you, though, you’ll live longer if you remain an unknown hero,” Jess said. She didn’t want Gaston to get any ideas of fame and fortune by trying to sell them out.

  Pale and shaking, he accepted Sampson’s help up. Sampson maintained a firm grip on his upper arm, just in case Gaston’s legs let go. “I know Father Vandermire tried to tell me, but I thought his description of vampires was a euphemism for approaching evil.”

  Regent looked regretful. “Take heart, my son,” he said. “We’ve been on the forefront of this battle for years, and we’ve succeeded in so many ways. It can happen in Paris, too.”

  “Success? Or battle?” he asked.

  Regent twisted his mouth and tipped his head. “Probably both. But at least you’ll know there’s someone here to fight for the humans.”

  “Merde!” He looked a little shaky again. Sampson reinforced his grip on Gaston’s elbow, then helped him to be seated again.

  “We’d better go,” Jess said to Britt. “Gaston needs a little time to come to terms with what we’ve just told him. He’d probably be more comfortable to do that without the two of us here.”

  Gaston didn’t even look at them. He kept his eyes averted.

  “I’m sorry if we scared you,” Britt said, opening the door and stepping out before Jess. She followed.

  They heard the men talking the second they closed the door between them. It would take a while to calm Gaston down. Poor man.

  Britt reached back to see if he could feel the nubs where the wings had been. His shoulders still tingled a little, but the wings were gone. “Another shirt ruined,” he said.

  “We really scared that poor man. I don’t know if he was as afraid of you as he was of me, but it was still a double whammy for him. Do you think he’ll help Regent now? Will he be strong enough?”

  “He looked terrified, but we’ll convince him one way or another,” Britt said.

  They walked in silence for a while. It had been a trying night for both of them. Being a freak of nature wasn’t easy.

  They reached their building, went inside, and locked the apartment door behind them, setting the deadbolt for good measure. Since the demon uprising, they’d been a lot more cautious.

  “I suppose I could compel him if he can’t come to terms with the truth,” she said. “But it’d be much better if he used his own free will.”

  “I was thinking along the lines of verbally convincing him, first.” Britt stretched his shoulders and reached back again to finger the tear in his shirt. “The thought of compelling the man seems like a breach of his trust.”

  “Did it hurt when it happened?” Jess fought the urge to touch him where the wings had been.

  “No. I don’t even feel them grow, but once they’re fully formed it’s like they’re part of my skin. When someone touches them, I feel it,” he said, shaking his head.

  “You’ve come a long way since we first met,” Jess said.

  He cleared his throat. “Back when I was a down-and-out ex-cop- slash-taxi-driver on my way to becoming an alcoholic?”

  “You’d never have allowed that to happen. You just needed to know you hadn’t murdered your partner. And even then, I’m sure you would have pulled yourself out before you went too far across the alcoholism line.”

  “You’ve always had such faith in me, doll,” he said, barely looking at her. “It was your faith in me that kept me going. You’ve become my rock, although you’ll never believe that.”

  Jess probably thought the conversation was getting a little too maudlin, so he changed the topic. “I think Regent will be able to convince him. We won’t have to go to extremes yet.”

  “Most of the time, you pretend to be an old ex-cop, tough on the outside and rough around the edges, but your intelligence and your kindness is always evident whether you believe it or not,” she said.

  “Hey, watch the ‘old’ bit. I’m still in my forties.”

  “You’re right. Some nerve I have calling a youngster like you old, when I’m the ancient one in the room.”

  His gut twisted. Sometimes it was hard for him to show her the upside of things. He took her upper arms in his hands and gave her a playful shake. “Hey, don’t do that to yourself. It’s all relative. And, relatively speaking . . .” He looked her up and down with a hungry expression. “Relatively speaking, you’re a hot twenty-nine-year-old.”

  He pulled her in for a similarly hot kiss.

  Unfortunately, they didn’t have time tonight—he knew they were ticking down to dead-time within the next few minutes. They’d been out too long tonight.

  He felt her lethargy building and her muscles stiffening. She was fighting against the onset of stasis. No, not now. He wanted to make love to her, especially since this would be the first time since Morana had betrayed them. But it was too late.

  “Damn it,” she said, validating the way he felt.

  “It’s okay. We’ll always have tomorrow night.” He led her to her room and waited while she slipped into her nightgown.

  He could
read her better than anyone else, even Regent. The last thing she’d want right now was to sleep, unless it was in his arms. But there was no way she’d let a warm human being hold her dead body during the day.

  He waited while she stretched out on the bed. She blinked several times, but it was obvious her lips could no longer move. A tear slid out of her eye and rolled down the side of her cheek.

  Dear God, if only he could save her. “I love you, doll,” he said, tucking the sheet up to her chin before reaching down and kissing her frozen lips. “See you tonight.”

  Britt shut her door and set the lock so she’d be safe inside. He went back to the living room, cooked himself a quick dinner, and made a phone call. An hour later, he met Sampson at his lab.

  “How’d Gaston take things after we left?” Britt asked.

  Sampson shrugged. “I’m not sure he believed it happened. He might need more visual proof.”

  “Geez,” Britt said. “He’s not likely to tell anyone, is he?”

  “No way. He thinks he might be losing it. He’s worried if anyone finds out, he’ll lose his job at the Louvre. That’ll keep him tight-lipped until we can assuage his shattered nerves.”

  Britt let out a long breath. “You and Regent can handle that.”

  Sampson nodded. “But that’s not why you’re here, is it?”

  Britt shook his head. “I need to know what’s going on in that room in the Louvre. It’s just too dangerous for Jess,” he said. “It scared the hell out of me when I heard she’d been completely under its spell. What if there are more places like that in Paris? What if someone in this city can wield that power? Jess would be in terrible danger.”

  Sampson nodded vigorously, and his weary eyes watered behind his glasses. Obviously dog-tired after working on the information about the Order of the Revenant all night, Sampson still agreed to help. Of course, he would. He’d do anything to help Jess.

  Guilt surged through Britt, but damnation, this was important, too.

  “I’ll go to the Louvre later, when it opens. I’ll try to find out why that room holds her in its spell. Can you tell me which one it is?” Sampson said.

  Britt’s gut twisted. “No, but Regent can. I wasn’t there when it happened.”

  “Okay, maybe Regent will go with me,” he said. “I’ll give him a few hours to rest since he’s been looking tired lately.”

  “And what about Gaston?” Britt asked. “You’re sure you trust him? I mean, is he stable enough to take the news?”

  Sampson frowned across the table at Britt. “Do you have the feeling he isn’t?”

  Britt shook his head. “No, I just worry for Jess.”

  Sampson nodded heartily. “She’d hate it if she knew we were working to keep her safe behind the scenes,” he said.

  Britt laughed. “Wouldn’t she?” he agreed. “But it’s different in Paris. We need to be so much warier here. Danger is lurking at every turn, and we can’t take anything at face value.”

  “We’re talking about Morana now, aren’t we?” Sampson said.

  The man was always intuitive. “You bet your ass we are. That broad is trouble. I’m just afraid that Regent wants her to be more like him and Jess—she isn’t.”

  Sampson made a disheartened face. “I have to agree. On the other hand, look what Regent managed to do for Jess. Maybe he can help Morana, too.”

  “I don’t believe that,” Britt said. “But I hope you’re right, and I’m wrong.”

  Sampson yawned for about the tenth time.

  “Why don’t you grab a few hours’ sleep, too, Sampson? I don’t want him to know just how worried I am and how much I distrust Morana, especially after she enthralled me and sent Jess the video of me kissing her.”

  Sampson’s mouth dropped open. “She didn’t!”

  “She sure as hell did. She’d do just about anything to achieve what she wants, but other than hurting Jess, I’m not sure exactly what that is. Jess and I saw her with Veronique last night. They met at her apartment. If she’s in cahoots with the captain of the vampire team in Paris, I don’t know what to do about it.”

  “We’ll get to the bottom of things,” Sampson said. “We always do—sooner or later.” He flipped his glasses up onto his head.

  “As Regent’s wingman,” Britt said with a laugh, “do you think you can manage to keep him a tiny bit more careful around his newfound sibling? Don’t let him get himself into trouble. He wants his beloved long-lost sister to be like Jess. But I’m not sure that’s ever going to be possible. At least, not the way he wants it to be. Morana might be using him for her own personal reasons—reasons I don’t want to even think about.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  “THIS IS CRAZY,” Jess said, pacing back and forth in front of Britt the next evening. “We should just go and ask Veronique, straight out, what is going on and why she had a meeting with Morana.”

  “You want to believe in Veronique, don’t you?” Britt said, chewing on his lip for a moment. “Hell, so do I. I’ve been working with her on those serial killings, and I don’t get any weird vibes from her at all. She seems like a person we can trust, but first we see her with Vlad, and then with Morana. And that blows our trust out of the water. Still, she’s one of us, Jess—a cop. Even though the evidence against her seems damning, I don’t believe she’s a traitor to her country, or to her job.”

  “What should we do, then?” Jess asked. Her stomach reacted to that thought. “Demanding answers might drive a wedge into our tenuous collaboration. And let’s face it, Veronique needs our help.”

  Britt got to his feet and tucked his T-shirt into his fitted jeans, enhancing the taut muscles of his abs. Her gaze lingered on his impressive bod. He hadn’t been working out in Paris, something he liked to do to blow off steam, but his frame and his muscles hadn’t diminished. He hadn’t lost an ounce of muscle mass, as far as she could tell.

  Having a ton of money came in handy sometimes. She’d always been wise when it came to investments, and in the earlier days of her vampirism, she’d spent hours poring over the markets to take her mind off what she’d become. She’d call a company this week to order gym equipment for him. It’d be a nice surprise.

  While she pondered the logistics of setting up a gym in their apartment, he tipped her chin up so he could plant his warm lips on hers. The kiss lasted until she wanted to wrap herself around him and tell him to never let go. Problem being, vampires couldn’t do that. If he had an inkling that she wasn’t as tough as she projected, she might not be able to maintain control over herself when she needed her darkness the most. And in this city, who knew when that darkness would be necessary?

  His lips left hers, and they instantly felt cold.

  “You’re worried, Jess. What is it?”

  He was too close to the truth, so she grasped for an alternate reason to be so reflective. “Regent is still looking a bit ill, don’t you think?”

  “Maybe. If only his physiology hadn’t been manipulated to make him younger, we might be able to better judge his state of health,” Britt said. “Sampson’s giving him regular checkups, though. If anything showed up, he’d let us know.”

  Jess’s shoulders sagged. “That is, if he’s agreeing to have them.”

  “If he isn’t . . .” Britt said, giving her one last determined kiss and tweaking her chin. “We’ll convince him to do it for you. That way he can’t say no.”

  “While I appreciate the sentiment, I’m not sure I want to be the reason he gets a checkup. I’ve been the bane of his existence for far too long, even though most of that responsibility has shifted to you lately.”

  “Don’t you know how much happier I am since we met? My whole life has been leading up to my existence with you.” He pointed at himself with his thumbs. “This is what I was born to do. I’ll always be grateful for our relationship—no matter what happens.”

  “You really mean that, don’t you?”

  “Of course, I do. I don’t think I’d have ever come back from
death if I didn’t want to be with you so badly. In essence, it was you who saved me.”

  “Along with Uriel,” she said.

  He winked at her.

  She pushed her hair back from her shoulders and stared at the floor for a few seconds. “I’m not sure how I got so lucky.”

  He kissed her again, then grabbed her hand, yanking her toward the door. “That’s my optimistic beauty! Let’s go.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “Let’s start with the Prefecture, since Veronique’s on the night shift,” he said.

  She inhaled a deep breath she didn’t need. Some things just happened because it was what her physiology thought it needed.

  “Apres vous,” he said, and she smiled.

  “Look at you, learning French on top of everything else.”

  He choked a little on that. “Unfortunately, I’m one of those people who has no capacity for speaking another language. It doesn’t form into words in my head, and I can’t wrap my tongue around it. You seem to be picking it up quickly, though.”

  She had been working on the language, and she loved being able to speak it. She stepped off the curb onto the street. “I’ll hail a cab.”

  Britt looked perplexed while she held up her hand and flagged down a taxi.

  “I don’t want to waste any time walking around the city right now,” she explained, noting his expression. “I want to find Veronique and get this discussion over with.”

  “Fine with me,” he said.

  A taxi pulled up, and they were on their way. The driver made New York cabbies look like aces, but they made it in record time.

  The officer at the front desk waved them through to Captain LaFontaine’s office. Jess didn’t feel guilty about eavesdropping on any possible conversations on her way down the hall, but all she heard was a dull thudding sound coming from Veronique’s office.

  It was Veronique shooting pencils into the pockmarked ceiling panels overhead. In fact, several of them hung precariously over her desk when they stepped inside.