She caught Vlad’s look of disdain. And for good reason—vampires didn’t need babysitters.
“I was burning off excess energy by going from rooftop to rooftop. It was like an aerobics night,” she joked, but knew immediately Britt wasn’t amused.
He stared at the coat. “Why are you wearing that?”
“The sun toasted me a bit. But luckily Vlad happened by and pulled me out,” she said. She wouldn’t tell him how badly she’d been burned if she could help it.
The muscles in Britt’s jaw began working. That was worse than voicing his concern. He shook his head. “Wait a minute, did you say vampire trap?”
She nodded.
“Is it the only one?” he asked Vlad directly.
“Unfortunately, no. There are at least twenty that I know of in the city.”
“Given this information, I’d say we found another one of them. It’s actually in the Louvre,” Britt said.
“Most Parisian vampires are aware of them,” Vlad said. “It’s only the tourists who get hung up in them now. No one knows how old the traps are. Whatever or whoever created them, had abilities we no longer possess, since the traps have a power source that never seems to dissipate,” Vlad said.
“What next? It’s just one thing after another over here.” Britt’s voice sounded raw, no doubt due to the fact that he’d been deeply affected by nearly losing her.
Jess sighed and tightened the belt subconsciously.
“Could you share the locations of these traps?” Britt asked, pulling his gaze away from her again. “Wouldn’t want Jess to run into any more.”
“I do have a map with some of the locations marked,” Vlad said. “If you come by my office tomorrow night, I’ll have it ready for you.”
“Appreciate it,” Britt said in a stiff voice.
She didn’t blame him for his reserve, since he didn’t know if Vlad could be trusted any more than Jess did.
“Time to go,” Jess said. She didn’t want to be further indebted to Vlad. For all she knew, he could have set the trap himself.
They exited the mansion and strode down the sidewalks toward their apartment.
BRITT REMAINED QUIET on their way home. This was their last month in Paris, and they’d been through a lot. That said, Jess could never live a dull, boring life. She wanted her existence to be action-packed and exciting. She needed it, partially because of her vampirism. There was no way she could sit around and relax. And, also because that’s the way she’d always been.
So, she wasn’t about to go home now and let Britt mollycoddle her because she’d had a close call. From now on, he’d keep a close watch on her unless she put her foot down, and put it down hard. He’d blame himself for watching sports last night while she’d gone out for a look about the city and nearly lost her life.
He knew most vampires were loners, and sometimes she just had to have solitude. But getting that solitude might be a lot harder after last night. Being burned had been painful, but Jess wondered how much her twin sister Morana had suffered when she’d been caught in Britt’s flash of Angel Fire. It was an ability he’d inherited as part of his ongoing transition to angel. Britt had no idea what would come next.
They might not have liked Jess’s twin, but they’d both been grieving in their own way because sudden loss changed things. Morana had been a dark vampire in most ways, but she was Jess’s newly found twin sister. It was something Jess was still having trouble getting her head around-—she’d had a sister.
Regent had been devastated at the loss. He’d taken to Morana almost instantly, and losing her was something Jess hated that he had to bear.
Regent was suffering. But Britt? He’d been almost broken by accidentally killing Morana.
And now, Jess had gotten herself caught in some weird vampire trap and had nearly been killed, too. Paris was not boring; she’d give it that.
Shoving the thoughts of Morana to the back of her mind, she focused on her own recent mishap. What could possibly be the purpose of the traps? To maim vampires? To kill them? One thing she knew for sure, the trap in the Louvre wasn’t set to kill, but to snare.
“What about Captain LaFontaine?” Britt asked. “She might know more than we do about these traps.”
“The same Captain Veronique LaFontaine of the Prefecture de Police vampire hunting team, who has secret meetings with Vlad and his vampire cohorts? That Captain LaFontaine?” she said, her hands on her hips.
He slowly exhaled. “Okay, we’ll find out on our own.”
“We’ve been working with Veronique for more than two months, trying to help with the serial killings. You’d think we’d be able to trust her implicitly by now, but I still need validation. Why is she having secret meetings with Vlad?”
“Have you asked her?”
Jess nodded. “I’ve hinted, but I don’t want to ask outright. I don’t want to drive too big of a wedge into our ongoing cooperative work. So far, she’s done nothing that puts either of us at risk.”
“I have a gut feeling we can trust her. And I’ve spent quite a bit of time with her trying to find the Underground Killer,” Britt said. “Since I met one of the young women who was so viciously murdered, I’d rather not leave here until I at least give it a damned good shot at helping solve this thing.”
“True. And I’d trust your judgment before just about anyone else’s. If Veronique’s holding back something that puts any of us at risk, I could compel her. Make her tell us everything.”
Britt rubbed the back of his neck, body language that told her he was uncomfortable with that.
She didn’t blame him. She’d compelled him once without his knowledge. And as far as she knew, he still didn’t know she’d done it. It was her dirty little secret that had happened shortly after they’d first met.
Besides, compelling a human did nasty things to their serotonin and endorphin levels, and left them disoriented and in pain for several hours afterward. Especially if a vampire got in and out fast. Which she had-—more guilt.
“I’m sorry I scared you like that,” she said. She’d never forgotten how she felt when she had lost Britt a few years ago. Thankfully, his angelic DNA had helped him to be revived, however painfully.
There were dark circles under his eyes tonight, and she’d bet he hadn’t slept at all in the last twenty-four hours. He needed less and less sleep lately, but he didn’t usually look so tired. “Why didn’t you call me?”
“I tried, but my phone wouldn’t work. I was in a dead zone.” She waited for him to catch the irony in that statement.
“So not funny, doll. How did Vlad get you out of this trap?”
Jess slowed her pace and pondered that. “I’m not sure, and as hard as I tried to find out, he didn’t volunteer any information.”
“If he’s not the one controlling the trap, I’d sure as hell like to know how he managed to get you out without being compromised himself.”
She nodded.
“There’s something else you need to know,” Britt said.
“Yes?”
“Regent found out you were missing last night. He came over to see you and waited for you to return. He waited all night.”
“Oh geez, poor Regent. He never drops in unannounced.”
“He was in a bit of a state when he went home. We need to go straight to his place,” Britt said, clearing his throat as if his own emotion had surfaced at the thought of losing her. “He’s texted me about twenty times since then. I told him I’d found you and that I’d bring you over right away.”
“Oh damn! I really screwed up, didn’t I?”
Britt wrapped an arm around her shoulder and kissed the top of her head. “Not like you had a choice, doll. But please, wait until Vlad gives you the trap locations before you go out again.”
She tho
ught he’d insist on going with her from now on. That just wouldn’t work for her. “I can do that.”
They walked about ten blocks before they reached Regent’s apartment. Jess had wanted him to move into the building she’d purchased, but in the end, he chose to stay where he was.
Still, Jess was suspicious about the Church’s motives in bringing her brother here. There was something odd about this assignment, but she couldn’t put her finger on it.
Regent had voiced the same trepidation. He still believed the Church had him under surveillance, and he didn’t want her nocturnal activities to raise their suspicions and cause trouble for her.
She sighed. Her poor brother continued to live his life for her—to keep her safe.
They knocked on his apartment door. Regent opened it so quickly, he must’ve been standing there waiting. To her surprise, Sampson and Regent’s friend Gaston were there. Even though she’d never been told Gaston’s last name, she’d done her research on him in order to keep her brother safe. Gaston Breau, art restorer at the Louvre, had a squeaky-clean record.
The men sat at the kitchen table covered with old books portraying similar artwork themes—ravens.
Regent grabbed Jess and squeezed her tight in his arms. She allowed it—truth-be-known, she enjoyed his affection, not that she’d ever tell him. He’d think she’d gone soft.
“I’m okay, Regent. Vlad helped me escape.”
“Vlad?” Gaston said. “Is he the man who owns the club near the business sector of the city?”
She nodded.
“He’s one of the major benefactors of the Louvre, as well.” Gaston knew vampires existed, but that didn’t mean he knew Vlad was one of them.
“Why are you wearing a man’s overcoat?” Regent asked all of a sudden, eyeing her up and down.
“I had a little mishap,” she said. “It’s okay now, though. No dried leaves necessary.” That was code. Regent always packed her injuries with dried herbs.
“I don’t like the sound of that,” Regent said.
Waving a hand to indicate it was a trivial matter, she said, “What are you gentlemen doing tonight? Research on the ravens?”
“Gaston brought us a photo of a painting they received at the Louvre recently. It’s dark, and appears to be a fantasy artwork. But even though it’s unsigned and the painter is unknown, some of the specialists at the Louvre believe it to be in the style of the seventeenth-century artist Joseph Emanuel Calmet. And, at the heart of it, there is a raven with an eternal life symbol inside the bird. What if it’s a new call to the Order of the Revenant? They might be reinventing themselves. Becoming stronger.” Regent exhaled loudly.
“How many vampires go to the Louvre?” Britt asked. “I mean, if the painting is for vampires, why hang it in the Louvre where humans gather?”
Regent cast a soft look in Jess’s direction. “I know one who did.”
Jess nodded. “And I got caught in that vampire snare. As innocuous as it seemed, I would have remained there until you pulled me out, dear brother. Or, the vampire who set the trap came to collect me.”
Gaston gasped. “What are you talking about?’
Regent patted Gaston’s shoulder. “Later, my friend. Right now, tell Jess and Britt what you’ve found.”
Gaston nodded, his fluffy hair moving like reeds on the side of a river. “I’m pretty sure the ravens are significant.”
“Have you any proof of that?” Jess asked, thinking about the raven on Vlad’s crest.
Regent crooked a finger for them to take a look at the photo of the latest painting hung in the Louvre. “See the very fine details in the wings?”
She leaned over and studied the photo. “Wow. How’d any human being create such intricate lettering and make it look like feathers?”
“Ever see those symbols before?” Regent asked, pointing.
“Yes, in the book you found at the Palais des Papes,” Jess said. “But . . .”
Regent held up a hand. “Wait. There’s something we haven’t told you about this painting. The paint was fresh when it arrived. So fresh, Gaston got some of it on his shirt when he mounted it for display.”
“But you said the art specialists thought it was done by one of the master painters of the seventeenth century. How could it be new? Is there a forger working in Paris to create new versions of Calmet paintings?”
Gaston pursed his lips. “I don’t think so. I believe this was done by the original artist.”
Lightning struck. “No. Really? One of the masters—was—is—a vampire?”
Regent’s expression grew more serious. “It seems that way, especially since the style is identical to Calmet’s.”
“I guess we should give this information to Captain LaFontaine,” Britt said. “If the Order is sending a message through paintings at the Louvre, we’d better be on our toes. We don’t want another French Revolution on our hands, with vampires at the helm.”
That information made Jess wonder about Vlad. He had resources and money, and he had gained insider information by cozying up to Veronique. Worse, she was positive it had been Vlad standing on top of the building watching when Britt had eradicated a group of murderous vampires with his Angel Fire? She just wished she knew what side he was on. He could be a formidable ally—or a very dangerous foe . . .
Chapter Two
JESS AND BRITT watched Veronique pace back and forth in her office, cursing virulently in French. At least that’s what Jess thought. She didn’t know much French, so for all she knew, Veronique could be spouting poetry—but her tone and body language said otherwise.
An officer stopped outside Veronique’s office and leaned against the door. “Having trouble coping with the job, Captain? You look frazzled.”
Jess snapped her head in his direction. What kind of cop would speak to a captain with that kind of derision?
“Piss off, Bernard.”
The idiot stood there sneering for a few seconds longer, then slowly pushed away from the door and sauntered away.
“What was that about?” Jess asked, amazed at Veronique’s restraint. Jess would have handled the guy very differently.
“He’s a pain in my ass. I don’t trust him, and he knows it. He’s always working any angle to get at me.”
Jess shook her head. “Is he part of your vampire unit?”
“No, but he wants to be. I won’t have him.”
Jess could see why, but at the same time wondered why Veronique put up with him. Still, it was really none of Jess’s business. “So . . . the painting. Given that the paint is fresh, it’s not an original, and we’re pretty sure it’s serving as a call to arms for a certain sect of vampires.”
Veronique’s shoulders stiffened. “Which sect?”
“We don’t know,” Jess said. “I was hoping you might have an idea.”
“I cannot believe this!” Veronique growled. “Why has this painting turned up now? Everything has gone to hell since you two arrived.” Veronique glared at Britt and slammed her hand on the desk. “Especially since you killed those vampires last month.”
Jess scowled at the woman. “You’d be dead, too, if it wasn’t for Britt. Don’t forget that!”
Veronique had the common sense to look momentarily contrite.
“Besides, you can’t possibly believe he’s the cause of any of this. This plan to take over had to be in the works long before we came to Paris. You do remember the demon uprising two months ago? Something like that doesn’t just happen without preparation.”
Veronique dropped into her chair and threw herself forward on her desk, her head in her hands.
“Mais non, I’m sorry, my friends. I don’t really mean that. I’m just at my wit’s end, and I’m afraid I’ve taken my frustration out on you.”
“I’d also like to
point out you wouldn’t have known about much of this if Britt, Regent, and I hadn’t been here,” Jess added.
It still angered her that Veronique had hinted at their responsibility in this thing. She should know that it was never wise to tick off a vampire.
“I’ve got to figure out who to share this news with.” Veronique thrust her hands into the air dramatically. “A possible overthrowing of our government by vampires. Where do I start? Obviously, we have an extremely limited pool of individuals in the government who even know vampires exist.”
“Yes, well, we’ve given you important information. You can run with it or not. Either way, it’s best to have an idea of what could be coming down the pike,” Britt said.
Veronique frowned at his choice of words. She might not have completely understood the phrase, but she probably got the gist. “Yes. I thank you both for this. And please thank your brother for me, Jess.” She pushed her bangs back and sat straighter in her chair, as if she’d made a decision.
“Any word on Morana?” she asked, making Jess cringe inside. Jess barely dared a glance at Britt. She hated to see the devastation on his face.
“No. We’ve tried to contact her adoptive father, Sinclair, but he won’t speak to us.”
“If there’s anything I can do, please tell me,” Veronique said. “Maybe I could get him to speak with me.”
“Don’t bother. The man is a virtual hermit to start with. He’s grieving, and he won’t let anyone in,” Jess said.
Britt remained silent. His head had dropped, and his shoulders sagged. He’d lost weight since Morana’s demise. Jess had tried to get him to eat, but he just couldn’t forgive himself for accidentally killing her sister.
Veronique stood, and they turned to leave. They were walking toward the door when her sergeant barged in. They actually had to jump aside for him to enter.
“‘S’cuse-moi,” he said. Noting Jess and Britt, he switched to heavily accented English. “There’s been another murder in the tunnels. The victim was found ten minutes ago.”
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