She’d soon show them whom they should be afraid of.
Chapter Fourteen
JESS LEFT BRITT at home preparing to help Sampson search for the domicile of the elusive artist named Calmet. They had a map out and were marking certain sections of the city they thought might lead to good results.
She hoped they could find him, but as an ancient vampire, he most likely wouldn’t be happy with being discovered. Britt could take out a vampire with a mere thought, but she hoped he wouldn’t have to, especially if this man was connected to almost everything they were searching for. They needed answers only Calmet could provide.
She’d just learned that Sampson’s recently hired bodyguard had run off scared after meeting up with a big vampire out for blood. Apparently, the vampire went after the bodyguard, and Sampson got away. She had no idea what had happened to the man he’d hired, but she feared it wasn’t good.
She’d report the attack to Veronique via text on her way to visit her brother. She’d taken the long route since walking alone at night was healing for her.
Her dark soul craved solitude. She walked across Pont Neuf, her favorite place in the city, stopping in the center to stare at the lights reflecting in the river below.
She missed her vampire hunting team back in New York and wondered what they were doing tonight. She’d gotten a few emails from Jane, the vampire who’d become the new commander in her absence.
Was she a little jealous of Jane’s prowess with her people? Maybe. But being here in France was a challenge, too. This place was old and dangerous in ways she’d never before dreamed, considering the decaying bodies that lay under the city and ancient vampires that held sway with the government here.
The olde ones must know there was another faction preparing to wage war against them. It was as if the city itself was holding its breath.
If Veronique and Vlad were truly working for the olde ones, it was because they were attempting to stop the two groups from waging full- blown war—she believed that now.
Her biggest question now was—who had created that room within the Louvre? It was a veritable flytrap for vampires. Whoever owned that technology had a powerhouse of skills and the ability to stop vampires without warning. Those skills might come in handy if everything hit the fan.
She pushed off the parapet and turned to exit the bridge when she spotted Diesel striding her way. By the expression on his face, she could tell this wasn’t an accidental meeting. He’d searched her out.
“Diesel?”
He stopped next to her, pointed to a bench on the other side of the bridge. “Can we talk over there?”
“Sure,” Jess said, looking over her shoulder to check for other vampires in the vicinity. Namely, Morana.
Diesel’s makeup was ghoulish tonight. Black and bright red eyeliner accentuated his green contact lenses that looked like a lizard’s eyes. A tiny razor wire chain hung between his nose and his lip. One wrong move and ouch. He wore skintight black silk pants, pointed designer shoes that had been polished to a fine shine, and a shirt that was made of some kind of black foil. At least that’s what it looked like, but it was somehow see-through.
“How’s my lovely sister tonight?” she asked cynically on the way to the bench.
“I haven’t seen her. I’m on a later shift. I have to be at LaCave in an hour.”
Diesel sat, then leaned forward and clasped his hands in front of him. He had tattoos on the inside of his wrists continuing upwards under his shirt sleeves. Jess had never noticed them before.
“Those are interesting tattoos,” she said, noting how he stiffened at her words. She’d spotted a familiar looking raven tattoo under his rolled-up sleeve. Well . . . well . . . Diesel had just become a lot more interesting.
“You recognize this, don’t you,” he said, showing her the raven. “How is that possible?”
She shrugged. “You know. I get around.”
“No. You shouldn’t know anything about this tattoo.”
She decided to throw something out to see where it landed. “Have you met a man named Calmet?”
He inhaled sharply. “No. He’s elusive. No one’s met him. And I suggest you avoid him if you know what’s good for you.”
The hair stood up on her arms. Britt and Sampson were searching for this man right now, and she could tell that Diesel wasn’t kidding. His expression proved his fear of Calmet.
“He’s the number one person I’d like to meet, actually,” she said.
“That’s not a good idea,” he said. “I’ve heard rumors about vampires who’ve met him. They were never seen again.”
Jess made an irritated sound at the back of her throat. “I’m not afraid of those rumors. I’ve met worse than him, I can guarantee.”
“Forget him for now. I belong to a group of vampires who are interested in you. They’d like you to consider becoming a member.” Diesel suddenly looked around nervously, as if to make sure no one heard him.
“Really?” She tensed and waited to hear more. She had the feeling if Britt had been with her tonight, this conversation wouldn’t be happening.
“Why me?”
“They know about your abilities. How you’ve taken out vampires in New York City,” he said.
“So why would that make me appealing to another group of vampires?” she asked. Shouldn’t they be afraid of her abilities?
“They want to know how you do it. They want you to teach them.”
She laughed cynically. “I’m not a teacher, and I’m not about to share any of my abilities with a group of deadly vampires. I kill vampires, Diesel,” she said, noting the instant flicker of fear behind his irises. “I don’t teach them to fight back.”
“How can you do it?” he asked. “Kill your own, I mean.”
“It’s easy. I see a frigging psychotic killer vampire, and I stake them and send them back to hell where they belong.” She wondered if he’d run away at that. He didn’t. That surprised her.
“I guess that could be why they want you. You’re strong and smart, and you can kill vampires without a second thought. We need that kind of thinking. There’s a new world order, and it’s time to take charge. That means getting rid of the deadwood.”
Jess didn’t like the sound of that. “Does Morana know you’re here talking to me, Diesel? Is she part of this group, as well?”
He paused and looked at the raven tattooed on his arm, as if he needed it for strength. “No. She doesn’t know. She wants into the group, but they don’t want her.” He paused again. “She wouldn’t take it well if she found out you were being recruited. She already resents you. You have power, and that’s what she wants above all else.”
“I don’t have power,” Jess said.
“Oh, but you do. You are the most powerful vampire in North America. Surely you realize that?”
She cringed. If killing psycho vampires made her powerful, she’d have to accept that. But it wasn’t the kind of power he seemed to associate with her abilities. She didn’t take out these vampires alone; she had an amazing team. That’s where the true power came from.
“How did you become a member of this group?” Jess asked, more than happy to change the subject.
“It’s because I’m from North America,” he said. “They think we have something vampires in Europe don’t have. I’m afraid they’re wrong about me, but I want to be part of the new order when it happens, so I’m playing along. And, you could be, too.”
“As I already said, I don’t kowtow to vampires,” she said, frowning at him. “The last thing I’d ever do is join them. You’re deluded if you think a group of vampires will be your ticket to something better. They’re all evil. You’re evil—I’m evil. I’m not someone you want to befriend, either. I believe I’ve said this before, I don’t make friends with vampires, I kill them.”
She stood and walked away.
BRITT’S SENSES TINGLED as he strode the sidewalk with Sampson. They hadn’t realized when they mapped this location it w
ould be in such a run-down section of the city. An area like this had to be rife with vampires.
His skin felt tight, as if it couldn’t hold his angelic self inside tonight. Since he had little control over his DNA, that meant he had no idea what might happen next. He could sprout wings without a clue as to when it might happen. He exhaled a long breath and hoped that wouldn’t happen in a strange neighborhood. And, by strange, he meant strange.
“If Calmet is so powerful, why would he live here in this rundown part of the city?” Britt said.
“Facades can be deceiving,” Sampson said. “Don’t forget that if he truly exists, he is an artist. According to my data, this is a part of town where starving artists live. They love it here.”
“Facades are deceiving,” Britt said, thinking of his beautiful and dangerous vampire. His kick-ass vampire hunter with a soft side that she didn’t let anyone else see, but him.
“Never mind facades, this place is more than run-down. It’s decrepit,” Sampson said, pulling his cell phone from his pocket and using his search engine. “According to this, Joseph Emanuel Calmet lived in this area in the nineteenth century.”
Britt scanned their surroundings. “The place must have been a lot nicer back then. If those facts are true, and if he’s still here, he’s lived here hundreds of years.”
“And probably in the same domicile.”
Britt had to admire Sampson’s dogged determination to find anything that might help Jess. “What do you think we’ll learn from Calmet?”
“If he’s the one creating the vampire traps in the city, he has the key to the ancient language in the vampire scrolls. There might be something in those scrolls that we could use to improve Jess’s existence.”
“Realistically, I don’t think another vampire will share those kinds of secrets with us, do you? What’s your idea about the scrolls? Do you think there’s a cure in the texts?”
“Unfortunately, no. If there were, we’d be seeing a completely different story here in France. There wouldn’t be as many vampires, if any. They’d have cured themselves,” Sampson said, always the pragmatist.
“Unfortunately, I see what you mean,” Britt said.
They rounded a corner and came across a group of men standing around a steel drum. Flames licked up from the center. It was a hundred degrees tonight in Paris, so what the hell?
When they drew nearer, Britt spotted a hand sticking out of the drum. He quickly assessed their danger level. The men were watching them. Men—he used the term loosely. They were vampires, and by the color of the flesh on the hand jutting out of the fire, it was most likely also a vampire. No need for the police in this case. Not the regular police, at any rate.
He pointed toward the main street. “Hurry. We have to get away before those vampires come after us.”
“Vampires?”
“Yeah, didn’t you see the hand amongst the flames.”
Sampson gasped. “No, I didn’t.”
With no time to warn him, Britt grabbed the back of Sampson’s shirt and yanked him through a door into the foyer of an apartment building that had seen better days. Two vampires passed by without looking in their direction.
“Why didn’t they sense us, or smell us, at least?” Sampson whispered.
“I think my angelic DNA is at work again. I felt a tingle earlier. I think it was masking our scent.”
“Geez, that comes in handy.”
Britt nodded but gritted his teeth. “It’d be nice to have a clue about what’s happening once in a while.”
“Why do you think those vampires were burning a body?”
“I’m guessing it’s the best way to get rid of evidence if the body doesn’t burst into molecules.”
“So, vampires are killing vampires in France,” Sampson said, rubbing the back of his neck. “We need to tell Jess.”
“There’s a lot more going on here than we previously suspected. But I’m pretty sure the vampire hunting team here in Paris already knows. They’re just not sharing with us, which is understandable, I guess. We’d do the same thing at home. We wouldn’t tell a foreign cop everything about our team without a very good reason.”
“Maybe we should get back to Regent’s place? I don’t think we should roam this area tonight, especially since those vampires are looking for us,” Sampson said.
“You might be right.” Britt peered out the door and scanned the area. “The coast looks clear, let’s go.”
Sampson adjusted the glasses on his face and pursed his mouth. “Looks like we won’t be finding Calmet tonight.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t try to find him,” Britt said. “After all, the man could be involved with what we saw in that alley.”
His senses were tingling again, and he shifted a glance over his shoulder. He saw nothing, but he didn’t like this part of the city—or the fact that he and Sampson were very likely in grave danger.
Chapter Fifteen
ALL THE WAY BACK to Regent’s place, Jess thought about Diesel’s proposal.
The main level security door in Regent’s building was still broken. It hadn’t been fixed since she’d wrenched it open to get to her brother when she thought he needed her. This area might be a touristy, well kept-up section of the city, but repairs on buildings were slow to happen. The fact that the front door was still broken hadn’t bothered her as much as seeing Regent’s apartment door ajar when she got upstairs. He never left his door open!
She whipped out her blade and slipped inside. The lights were out. Her muscles tightened, and her teeth grew. If anything happened to her brother, she’d go ballistic. Nothing would stop her from gaining retribution.
“Regent?” she shouted, flipping on the light switch. The place lit up, and she spotted a body on the sofa right away.
She dove at Regent, grabbed his shoulders, and shook him harder than she would have normally. His eyes flashed open in fear. He fought her until he realized who it was.
“What’s wrong? You scared the daylights out of me.”
“Are you okay?”
“Of course I am,” he said, sitting up. But in the dim light from the kitchen his face looked haggard. Exhausted. “I was taking a nap. I’m sorry if I hit you, dear, but you gave me quite a start.”
“Your front door was ajar. The lights were out, I thought you were—”
“Dead?” he said. “Nope. Just dead tired. I can’t seem to get enough sleep these days.”
“Were you out tonight?” Jess asked.
“No.”
“Why was your door ajar, then?”
“Do you think someone is in here?” he asked, getting to his feet in an unsteady way and rubbing a hand over tired-looking eyes. “Maybe it was Sampson?”
“I don’t think so. He’s out with Britt searching for Joseph Emanuel Calmet’s place.”
“Oh right, I’d forgotten about that.” He rubbed his face again and inhaled, as if endeavoring to revive himself.
“I’ll make sure your place is clear.” She moved through his apartment at vampire speed, returning only to find Regent shutting his door and setting the deadbolt. It was a little late.
“Would you like a cup of tea?” she asked him. She only offered to make him tea in the most dire of circumstances. By all accounts, her tea making abilities were pretty bad—not that she’d ever tasted it.
“That’s okay, dear. I’ll make it.” He wobbled on his feet for a minute, pressing one hand against the table until he regained his equilibrium.
When the Church had first turned back his internal clock from seventy-three to forty-something, he’d seemed to have the same body strength as a forty-year-old. He might be regressing internally, for all she knew. Sampson had done many tests and tried to figure it out, but he found nothing in Regent’s genetic makeup to show anything other than a man in his forties.
Her brother was as much of a mystery as Britt and his angelic DNA these days.
While Regent made tea, she retrieved his favorite box of cookies. A littl
e sugar wouldn’t hurt him right now.
“Have you heard from Sampson and Britt tonight? Have they found anything about the artist?”
“I haven’t heard from them yet. I’m sure they’ll be back soon.”
When Regent took the last gulp of his tea, Jess got up and put the ancient kettle on the gas stove, and it began to steam almost immediately. She knew her brother—he’d want another cup.
She told Regent about Diesel tracking her down tonight and attempting to recruit her into an exclusive vampire group.
“You’re kidding! It might be the Order of the Revenant.”
She shrugged.
“What about Veronique? Have you decided to trust her?”
“I really want to trust her. My gut tells me I should, but I’m not sure I can trust my gut here in Paris. It’s not like New York. In fact, this place is a hotbed of vampires who seem to be clawing to get to the surface. If someone doesn’t let off the steam soon, I’m afraid there’s going to be a massive eruption.”
“Do you think they’ll go against the Pact?”
“I think that it’s already happening. And if it gets out of control, the Pact won’t hold the rest of them much longer, either.”
“Good grief,” Regent said. “Maybe we should go home?”
“I don’t think we’d be any safer there. If these vampires break free of their bounds, the world will be theirs to take. It’s unlikely they’ll stay in France once they’ve gained control. They’ll want more and more.”
“Maybe that’s why I’m here right now?” he said. “I’m still at odds with what I’m supposed to be doing. Am I still a priest, or have I become a glorified researcher?”
“Maybe you should go to the Vatican and try to meet with whoever sent you to France? Ask why you’ve been given this posting and what your job is supposed to be.”
“Oh no!” he said, sweat instantly beading on his forehead. “That wouldn’t be a good idea. What if they don’t know I’ve been hunting vampires for years? It would be a disaster if I marched in there and told them too much.”
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