She squeezed the back of the kitchen chair until it snapped. If he was gone, so was her drug!
She decided not to panic right away. Instead she’d sit in his chair and wait for him to return. At least, until she had to go to her stasis chamber.
Just before the time she’d normally arrive home, she heard the creaking of a door. The sound had come from inside the house.
But she’d looked for Sinclair everywhere inside. What door had just opened?
Sinclair rushed into the room brushing a cobweb off his shoulder.
“Where’d you just come from?” she asked in a cold voice that she aimed at him, mid-core. It would shoot through him and make him realize she meant business.
“Just lying down in my room,” he said.
“Lying is the right word, but you weren’t in your bedroom or any other room in this house.” She stood and stared into his eyes, demanding an answer. He kept looking away. He definitely had a secret.
“Where were you?” she said in a stronger voice.
“Okay, I was in the paddock checking on the sheep,” he said. “It’s really no big deal.”
It wasn’t something he’d need to lie about either. She didn’t believe him.
He went to the cabinet and dragged out the peach brandy, poured himself half a glass, and took his chair, ignoring her.
She let him believe she’d swallowed his story, even though it confounded her that he’d think she could be that gullible. He should know better.
“A man snuck into the supply room at LaCave tonight,” she said casually. “A man of the cloth.”
Sinclair swallowed the liquid in his mouth, but it went down his throat in a loud gulp. “Did you kill him?”
Sinclair pissed her off to the point that she had to pace away so she wouldn’t break any more of his bones. She breathed several times in order to appear less affected than she’d actually been.
“I might have, but it’s not often a Cardinal comes to see me.”
Sinclair’s eyes nearly bugged out of his eye sockets. “What was his name?” he asked, nearly choking in his attempt to appear calm.
“Cardinal Marcus Vasilli,” she said, waiting for his next reaction.
He turned whiter than the fleece of her cleanest sheep. “That bastard swore to me he’d leave you alone!”
“You know him?” That surprised her.
“He’s nothing but trouble for you, Morana. He’s too interested in vampires, and he’s been trying to find out how I helped you to age. He knows you’d still be a babe in arms without my skills, though I never told him anything of the sort.”
“But that would mean he would have knowledge that I was made a vampire at a very young age. How is that possible?”
Sinclair looked away from her and sighed. “Because he was there at the time, my dear child. He wanted you for himself, but I sensed the evil in him and snuck you away in the night.”
If she hadn’t been stolen away, would she have grown up with her sister and brother? Did she really believe Vasilli would have killed her? He seemed awfully interested in the fact that she and Jess were twins.
Dawn drew too near for her to antagonize Sinclair any further. She wanted him to be fresh and less on the defensive the next time she questioned him, so she backed off. Let him believe he was safe from her questions right now. But later—she’d make him sorry for keeping secrets from her.
JESS AND BRITT went to Regent’s apartment after leaving Calmet’s cloaked mansion. She couldn’t wait to let her brother know what she’d found out. If, in fact, Calmet proved to be the vast resource she thought him to be, they’d finally get some answers to all the questions that had plagued them since arriving in Paris.
Sampson and Regent were having a game of chess when they arrived. Britt and Sampson opened a beer, while Regent sipped a cup of tea. Jess paced back and forth, considering everything that had happened earlier that evening, and formulating what she’d tell the men about Calmet. She let Britt go first, because he was excited about his news, as well.
He told them about the tunnel opening he’d found. “It leads directly to LaCave,” he said, finally.
“That’s a huge breakthrough,” Regent said, turning his attention back to his sister. “And, what is your news, dear? You obviously have something to share.”
She stopped pacing. “I met Calmet,” she blurted out.
No one moved, but all their shocked expressions were turned her way. Even Britt’s, because she hadn’t told him that part, yet.
Finally, Regent spoke. “How did you meet him?”
She filled the men in on Calmet being the only person in Serenity, that the other two members of the group had been some kind of hologram.
“Did you get the key code for the language?” Sampson asked urgently. With it they’d be able to decipher the thousands of volumes of vampire scrolls Sampson had discovered in Europe.
She shook her head. “Unfortunately, no. But his door isn’t closed to me. The thing is, if he really is some sort of Uber Immortal hiding away from the other Uber Immortal leading the olde vampires, what do we do? Do we trust him? He could be lying through his teeth. And,” she added, “we’ve seen no evidence, or heard anything about an Immortal ruling the olde vampires.”
“He let you leave. Given what you’ve told us, he had the power to keep you there, or worse. That means he has some redeeming qualities in my book,” Regent said.
“That doesn’t make him good. Or even trustworthy. For all we know, he could be the architect of everything that’s happening. He is the artist of the original Raven painting, though. He said the newest one is a forgery.”
“We already know that,” Sampson said, then allowed a rare curse to cross his lips. “And since it was stolen, too, there’s no way to prove Calmet’s claim.”
“I’ll ask Gaston to take a look at the photo tomorrow,” Regent said. “At least if that proves to be a fake, we’ll know that some of what Calmet told you is the truth. I seriously hope he’s wrong, because as much as we’ve discussed the possibility of a revolution, I’ve tried to make myself believe it can’t possibly be true. Why would a group that has kept itself secret from us since it began, suddenly want to show itself?”
“Maybe that’s the point,” Sampson said. “They’re tired of hiding in the shadows.”
“I hope you’re wrong about that, Sampson. According to Veronique, the vampire population in Europe, and especially France, is much larger than we realized. If there’s a revolution, we’ll be in very deep trouble,” Britt said.
“There’s something else I forgot to tell you,” Jess said. “Calmet seemed really taken aback—and almost pleased—that Vlad could outwit his vampire trap. That doesn’t make any sense to me at all.”
“Really?” Regent said, tapping his chin. “I can’t even postulate on that.”
“We’ve got a lot to think about, and some major tips on what might be happening. Anyone have any ideas how we might verify the fact that there’s an Immortal leading the vampires?” Regent asked.
“I have an idea,” Jess said, glancing at Britt. “But she probably won’t like us involving her.”
“Veronique?” Britt asked.
“Morana,” Jess said.
He sighed. “I was hoping you weren’t going to say that, but I had the feeling it might be her. How can she help us?”
“She’s been in Paris for decades. If there’s an Immortal leading the olde vampires, wouldn’t she have heard something?”
“Not necessarily,” Britt said. “Especially if the Immortal keeps the olde vampires under his thumb. They might not dare admit their ruler is a non-vampire.”
“But there’d still be something in vampire lore that’d give him away, surely,” Sampson said, always the pragmatist.
“Yes,
and that’s the premise we’re going on,” she said.
“I’m worried about the vampire twins’ prophesy,” Regent said. “I’m afraid it puts you and Morana at risk. Whether there’s an Immortal ruling them or not, what will the vampires do if they think you are the catalyst to their insurrection?”
Jess pondered that for a while. The only person she was really worried about was Regent. He’d been manipulated in so many ways since they’d arrived in Paris. He was probably most at risk. Not that the thought would scare him at all. He’d always been brave to the point of madness, when it involved saving her. He was the most amazing brother.
“They’ll be disappointed, because I have no desire to be their catalyst, and I’ll do everything in my power to make sure nothing happens.” No way would she tell Regent that Calmet had told her they were related to this Immortal. That, she still couldn’t believe and refused to voice out loud.
Jess stood. “It’s too late tonight, but I’m going to talk to Morana tomorrow. Do you want to come, Regent?”
“To LaCave?” he asked.
“Yes.” Jess looked at her watch. “Morana is usually there until at least three or four in the morning.”
He ran a hand over his eyes and yawned. “No matter how exciting the information, I’m on a mission to find out if that painting was really a fake. I’ll be busy tomorrow night.”
Jess smiled at her brother and allowed him to kiss her forehead, then turned to Sampson. “See you later.”
“Good morning, Jess.”
THE NEXT NIGHT, Morana was dressed in a red leather skin-tight bodysuit when Jess and Britt wandered into the club. Jess wondered how Morana had managed to squeeze into it. Added to her skimpy outfit, her hair flowed down to her hips. Either she was wearing a wig, or she’d gotten a weave. Her lipstick was neon orange, and her eyelashes and hair had also been tipped in orange.
She’d just mixed a batch of Longina Iced Teas and was pouring them in tall glasses with fruit and umbrellas on the rim. She glared at Jess as she and Britt approached the bar.
“Not you again!”
Jess ignored that comment. “I ran in to someone last night who was interested in the two of us being twins.” Jess watched Morana’s expression very carefully.
“Me too—Cardinal Vasilli,” she said. “I hear you know him.”
Britt’s fingers dug into her arm while her blood ran cold. “Watch out for that one—where that bastard goes, trouble follows,” Jess said.
“If you hate him so much, maybe I should get to know him a little better. We might be more simpatico than I think.”
“No. You’re being foolish if you think you can make friends with him. He doesn’t care about you or anyone but himself. Believe us, when we tell you he’s bad news,” Britt said.
Morana clicked her tongue in disgust. “I already figured that out.”
“Good,” Jess said. “But he’s not the person I’m referring to.”
Morana stopped pouring her additives into the drinks. “Who else is interested in the fact that we’re twins?”
“Someone who’s lived in Paris for longer than any of us. Someone who told me about a prophesy that was written a millennia ago.”
“About us? Get real.”
“About the fact that we’re vampires,” she said in a low voice so the other bartenders wouldn’t hear. “Twin vampires.”
“Why would that make a difference?”
“I don’t know. But there have never been twin vampires before, apparently, and the prophesy says we’ll have something to do with a change that will happen in the vampire world. That might put us both at risk if certain groups think they can use us to manufacture their desired outcome.”
“Bring it on, baby. I’m not backing down from a fight.” Morana made an angry face and flicked her nails at Jess. “Wait a minute. You’re not saying we’re supposed to work together to make this change happen, are you?”
Jess threw her arms up. “No idea.”
“Who is this long-in-the-tooth person you’re referring to?”
“We think his name is Joseph Emmanuel Calmet,” Jess said.
Morana sputtered then laughed out loud. “You’re really crazy, aren’t you? Everyone knows Calmet disappeared six or seven hundred years ago. He was in line to rule but then suddenly, he was gone.”
“Is there a ruler now?”
“Of course there is.”
“Who is it?”
Morana handed the drink tray to a server and turned her back on them. She tinkered with a few liquor bottles, but it was obvious she was trying to find time to think.
“I can’t tell you, because then I’d have to kill you.”
Jess sat on a stool in front of Morana, while Britt remained standing behind her. “Never mind, it’s obvious you don’t know,” she said.
Morana swung around and glared hard at Jess. “You bitch. Who do you think you are?”
“I think I’m one of the twins in Paris who is creating a furor among your people. I need to know if that is good news or bad. I was hoping you might get off your high horse and help me and Britt figure it out.”
“So, about this twin prophesy . . . do you believe it?” Morana asked.
“Let’s just say the person who told me about it is very powerful and has abilities that I’ve never seen before.”
“Such as?”
Jess bit her lip, unsure as to how much she should tell Morana. She was still a hostile, who didn’t want to be related to her. “Such as creating the vampire traps in the city?”
“Not possible,” Morana said. “They’ve been there forever.”
“I did say he’s been around for a very long time,” Jess reminded her.
“What do you want from me?” Morana was obviously tired of talking to her, and she looked more irritated than ever. And she obviously didn’t believe Jess had met Calmet himself.
“Information. That’s not too much to ask, surely?”
“Depends on what you want to know.”
“I want to know who rules the olde ones here in France.”
Morana made a snarky comment under her breath and glanced quickly at Gervais, as if she didn’t want him to hear.
“Go away, Vandermire!” she growled, but at the same time, she glimpsed pointedly at Gervais again.
Probably because his head was tipped in their direction, while he pretended to be concentrating on making a drink, Jess thought. Morana had been right to be wary of the man. He was definitely listening.
Hmm. Morana had a spy in her midst. She must hate the fact that she’d killed Diesel for no reason, since he’d been innocent. Strike that. She probably didn’t care one way or another. But she probably regretted hiring Gervais.
“Fine!” Jess shouted back, going along with Morana’s game. “Forget I asked.”
“Yeah, you’re full of shit,” Morana added for good measure. “You’ve been dipping too heavily into the blood of idiots.”
Grrr. She’d gone a little too far. Jess’s eyes went black, and she’d nearly jumped the bar when Britt wrapped a calming arm around her shoulders and nudged her ever so gently toward the door.
Back on the street, Jess strode quickly toward the café.
Britt kept up with her, but he seemed disconcerted. “Where are we going, and why? And what just happened back there?”
“To the café. It’s the first place Morana will look for us when she’s off work. She wanted to talk back there but couldn’t because Gervais was listening.”
“Seriously?” he said. “That’s what you got from that interaction?”
“Damn straight.” She bit back a grin.
Britt shoved his hands into his pockets. “There must be more to twins’ understanding of each other than I suspected, because I di
dn’t think you two were going to be speaking again after that conversation.”
“And that’s exactly what we wanted Gervais to think. You didn’t notice him listening to every word we’d said?”
“No, I guess not,” Britt said, sitting across from Jess at the table.
The café had been closed for an hour by the time Morana finally turned up. She strode up and plunked down on a metal chair across from Jess and Britt. “What’s wrong with you? Don’t you know better than to throw around names like ‘The Immortal’ in Paris, especially in front of vampires?”
Jess and Britt shared a confused glance. “No, apparently we don’t. I’ve never heard of an Immortal before today. I thought we were the only Immortals on the planet.”
Morana gaped at her. “Seriously?”
Jess shrugged. “Yeah, what’s wrong with that?”
“Nothing. It just proves what a rube you are. Makes me wonder how you can come here and act like the great vampire hunter when you know so little about the world.”
“I guess we’re protected from such things in North America,” she said, not letting Morana get to her, no matter how hard she tried.
“Does that mean there really is an Immortal of some sort leading the vampires? And if so, who is he?” Britt asked.
Morana planted her elbows on the metal table, getting closer, so no one could overhear. Not that there was anyone around, in any case. “Average vampires don’t know about him. Only the oldest of our forefathers know, and even they wouldn’t dare give you a name. The Immortal is said to be all knowing and all powerful.”
Jess wanted to refute that possibility but she couldn’t. She’d seen some of the things that Calmet had been capable of. She was beginning to think he’d been telling her the truth.
“I warn you not to try to find out. He’s not going to let you get anywhere near him. Word on the street is he’s building an army-—preparing for something, but no one knows exactly what it is.”
Oh great. Calmet was telling the truth about that, too.
“Morana, as I mentioned earlier, there’s a prophesy about twin vampires. It sounds as if you and I are intended to be in the middle of this thing, to force change on society.”
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