Britt wished he’d taken a photo of the document with his cell phone, but after that comment, he most likely wouldn’t have been allowed anyway.
Calmet stood, his blue aura brighter now, though Jess didn’t seem to notice. “I must say goodbye to you both, I’m afraid. I grow fatigued.”
“Wait,” Jess said. “What is the purpose of the concerts? Does it have anything to do with what’s going on in Paris?”
He cleared his throat. “I believe people need to feel the benevolence of peace. Even vampires need that. I give those concerts as my gift to humanity. I am able to not only project the sense of wellbeing to others, but I capture it for myself because it is mirrored back to me.”
Jess made a face and met Britt’s surprised expression. “Thank you for your honesty.”
“Good luck. It’s been a pleasure to meet you both.”
As he walked away, Britt’s gut tightened. They were on their own.
Chapter Fourteen
REGENT MET GASTON at his office.
“Jess and Britt have been told the newest painting might be a forgery. They’re wondering if you’d be able to tell by looking at the photo you took of it.”
“Maybe,” Gaston said. “If I’d restored it rather than just framed it, I’d have been more aware of the brushstrokes. They won’t be as visible in the photo, but unless the forger is very, very good, there’ll be clues that it’s not an original Calmet painting.”
Regent retrieved the photo from the envelope he’d brought with him. Gaston had a large magnifying glass nearby, and he went to work.
“Well? What do you think?” Regent asked after he’d been waiting at least ten minutes.
Gaston lifted his head. “It’s really good. So good I almost missed it, too, but they’re right; it is a forgery.”
Regent sighed. That meant the odd stranger Jess had met had been telling the truth about the painting. She’d be happy to hear it. “Any luck with the language in the book?” Regent felt guilty asking so much of his friend.
Gaston shook his head. “It’s like nothing I’ve ever seen before. It doesn’t even seem to have the regular syntax of a normal language, so I can’t figure out the easier words like ‘and’ or ‘the’ to be able to pick out other letters. I’m afraid I’m not going to be able to help you with it.” Gaston ran a hand over his eyes, as if just thinking about the language made his brain sore.
“I’m very grateful for your help. I knew it was a long shot. Sampson has been working on it for years and hasn’t managed to find anything either.”
Gaston frowned. “Didn’t you say you just found the book when you arrived in Paris? How could Sampson have been working on it for years?”
Oh darn. Regent had nearly given away the fact that Sampson had found the vampire scrolls. No one could know about those. They were too valuable and too dangerous—he couldn’t let anyone know of their existence.
“Thank you for the information on the painting. That’s good news.”
“It is?” Gaston looked concerned. “Not in my books. I’ll have to report it.”
“Can you keep my name out of it? I’d rather not get the Church’s ire up by being involved in something like this. I’m supposed to be doing research on old books, not finding forgeries at the Louvre.”
Gaston saluted him. “Not a problem. In fact, it’ll be a feather in my cap, having noticed it. I might get a pay hike out of it, thanks to you.”
Regent stood. “I hope you do. Are you coming over Saturday evening? Sampson will be here. He found a new bottle of brandy to try.”
“Try to keep me away,” Gaston said, turning his attention back to the photo and frowning.
Gaston was so involved with the photo, Regent didn’t think he noticed when he left the apartment. Jess didn’t like him walking the streets alone, so he’d stick to the main touristy thoroughfares to be safe.
He walked past the Eiffel Tower, marveling at its iconic structure and remembering how it had saved Paris from the demons. It made sense that something so important to the city would be part of its salvation.
His stomach rumbled, and he looked at his watch. It was well past suppertime. He headed toward his favorite café for a late-night meal.
Half an hour later, he’d just finished eating when Morana marched up to his table and stared at him with her hands on her hips. “Are you human?”
“Pardon me, dear?”
She sat across from him, tapping her long, blue fingernails on the table. “Are you human?”
“You know I am. If I were like you, you’d be able to tell.”
“That’s not what I’m talking about. I’ve learned that Sinclair isn’t human. At least, I don’t think he is.”
“Seriously?” Regent leaned forward. “What is he? Is that how he stays so youthful?”
Morana eyed him again. “And you, Regent? Are you like Sinclair-—you seem to have beaten the aging process, as well.”
“No, I promise you I’m just a human man who was taken from my home a few years ago and drugged or something. I can’t remember what happened to me, but when I returned to New York, I was younger. Much younger.”
Morana touched his arm with her icy fingers. She felt his pulse and most likely knew he was being truthful.
“Do you know what Sinclair is, if he isn’t human? I mean, I think I’d know if he were . . .”—Regent glanced around to make sure there was no one in the vicinity who could hear—“. . . like you.”
“He’s not. He’s some sort of magician, although he calls himself a Watcher.”
Regent gasped, and Morana’s attention snapped onto him. “What?”
“A Watcher? You’re saying he’s a Watcher?”
“No, that’s what he said he is.”
Regent blew out a long breath. “I can’t believe it. First angels and now Watchers.”
“Angels? What are you talking about, Regent? You’re not making sense.”
Regent pulled himself back and regretted his words. He’d never give away Britt’s secret.
“What is a Watcher, anyway?”
“An angel, sent to earth to watch over humans.” And angels.
“Well he’s no angel, and he isn’t watching over a human,” she said bitterly.
“According to Scripture, Watchers aren’t all good,” Regent said tentatively. “I’m not trying to say Sinclair isn’t a good man, you understand.”
She pushed at her short hair and ran a finger over her lower lip to smooth out her lipstick. “He isn’t good. That part is true. And I’ve never seen him have an ounce of compassion toward a human. But he’s not what I thought he was, either,” she said. “And for the first time I’m a little afraid of him.”
It shocked Regent to see Morana in such a state. Whatever she’d learned about her father had shaken her.
“Why are you afraid of him now?”
“I found his secret lab in tunnels under the house. The magic was so strong down there, it nearly killed me.”
“You’re kidding.”
“You don’t seem particularly surprised by any of this, Regent.”
He splayed his hands out on the table. “I’ve seen enough to know our world is not what it appears on the surface.” But a Watcher? He couldn’t believe they existed. Then again, he knew Britt was the real deal, so why couldn’t Watchers exist as well.
Wait until he told Britt and Jess about this!
Regent reached out and touched Morana’s hand this time. She instantly yanked it away from him.
“Sorry, dear. Are you okay with what you’ve learned about your father?” he asked.
She sighed. “I don’t know. It’s all so unexpected. I always thought he was weak—a mortal man with a lifespan typical of humans. But to know now that he’s lived for centuries, wi
ll live for centuries.” She closed her eyes for a moment. “I’ll never be rid of him.”
Regent barely breathed at that. He didn’t dare comment or Morana might stop talking, but he was shocked that she seemed to hate her father so much. He’d had no idea that Watchers lived so long. Did that mean Britt would live longer, too? As an angel, he might have the same capabilities as a Watcher. Just the thought that Jess would have a companion for a long time made his heart leap with hope.
Morana suddenly looked at Regent—glared at him really. Possibly because she’d just realized what she’d told him.
He held up his hands in a reflexive way. “If you can’t tell your brother your secrets, who can you tell, my love?”
He heard her teeth grit.
“I have to admit, I am intrigued by the fact that he is a Watcher,” Regent said.
“Well, I’m not. I’m damned angered by it. He says he stole me from my cradle. Took me away from my siblings, to raise me as his own.” She slammed one hand one the table. “He had no right.”
Regent gasped. “He didn’t!”
“Why, Regent? Why would a Watcher want a vampire as a daughter?”
“But surely, you weren’t a vampire when he stole you away?” Regent said, then nearly choked on the next thought. “Were you?”
She wouldn’t meet his gaze.
“Oh my Lord! How is that possible?”
Regent had worked with a vampire baby and knew they didn’t grow normally. “How did you grow so fast?”
She narrowed her eyes. “I guess I was his experiment. He used his magic in order to help me age. I actually don’t remember a lot of it.”
“Wow,” he said.
“Is that all you can say?”
It was probably all he should say. He didn’t want to anger her further. She was obviously upset enough. Watchers were here—and they lived very long lives. This probably wasn’t a good time to tell her that no one really knew what Watchers did. They were mentioned in the Bible, but their role was basically up for interpretation. His interpretation was that they were overseers of Fallen angels.
Regent wished he could talk to Uriel once more, but he’d disappeared after they’d saved him from vampirism. He’d probably gone somewhere to heal his mind and his soul from what had happened to him.
“Is there anything I can do to help you get through this?” he asked, knowing there wasn’t a chance she needed him or wanted him. But just in case.
“No, I don’t want your help or anyone else’s. I shouldn’t have told you any of this. I don’t know why I did.”
“I’m glad you did. We have to stick together, the three of us. We’re family.”
Morana snorted and stood. “I don’t want family. I like things the way they are.”
No matter what she said, he heard the despair in her voice. She’d lost her cocky demeanor, and it was easy to see she was floundering right now. Her world had been turned upside down, to the point that she’d come to him—her only brother. His heart swelled and he wanted to pull her into his arms. But he knew that was the last thing she’d stand for.
Before he could say anything else, she stood and left without another word.
After she walked off, he threw his money on the table and hurried home. He wanted to read the passages about Watchers in the Bible again. Maybe it would give him some insight as to why Sinclair had taken his sister.
He’d barely turned the corner toward his street when a hand reached out and grabbed his arm. The strength in that hand burned into his flesh, and at first, he thought it was a vampire, but the flesh wasn’t icy cold.
He’d had a lot of close calls in France. Had his luck finally run out?
BRITT STARED INTO the water from atop Pont Neuf. While he monitored the river, tension seized his shoulders and he rubbed his neck. Why had meeting Calmet done this to him? Why was he so tense?
“What’s wrong, my love?” Jess asked.
“It’s Calmet. He’s powerful. Imagine the abilities he must have to hide himself from the world for hundreds of years.”
“Do you sense that he’s dangerous?” she asked.
Britt made a face. “It’s as though there’s some sort of kinship between us, a bond that can’t be unbroken. I don’t know if he’s using his skills to make me believe that, or if it’s real. He said himself we couldn’t tell if another of our kind was good or bad. Maybe I’m being tricked by him?”
“I see what you mean.”
He turned away from Jess. “I don’t like the power he has. He keeps his home hidden. He created the vampire traps. What else can he do? And, what if it’s corrupted him over the years? Or maybe he was always corrupt. Who knows? Having that kind of power over mankind can’t be good.”
“I don’t see why you think he’s corrupt. He didn’t strike me that way.” She knew why Britt was afraid of corruption, himself. He’d been gradually gaining more abilities, and he feared what they would do to him.
She sniffed the air. “Britt, don’t look now, but we’ve got company.”
Four shadowy figures showed up, two at each end of the bridge.
“Looks like we’re going to get a little action tonight, babe,” he said. “Why aren’t they coming onto the bridge?”
For two seconds, Britt searched the waters below for the boatman who had saved them from the demon scourge in the city last year. But no one appeared. Had Calmet sent the boatman to them during the demon invasion? And if so, he hadn’t sent him again.
It looked like they’d have to fight on their own tonight. He grinned to himself. Their mistake.
“Shall we take one side at a time? Or you go one way, I’ll go the other,” Jess said with a grin.
“I like the first option. That way we can have each other’s back.”
“Okay, let’s go,” she said. They sauntered casually toward one end of the bridge, and the two vampires on the other side quickly followed.
Paris was full of ancient vampires who’d like nothing better than to get rid of anyone with such abilities. She had to make sure he didn’t use his Angel Fire again in Paris. It was too risky for him.
The four vampires paired off into tag teams when she and Britt met them at the end of the bridge.
She and Britt were wearing weapons tonight. They no longer had the constraints imposed upon them by Veronique, so they could protect themselves.
She whipped out her ruby-encrusted blade that Regent had given her years ago. It was almost her talisman against bad vampires, although the only power it held was in her heart.
These vampires weren’t as old as some they’d met in the city. Did that mean they were the Neo-Order vampires? She frowned. Had Vlad sent them?
Two of the vampires were in blue jeans and T-shirts, and the tattoos on their bodies reminded her of the Maori people and their tribal tattoos. “Just two of you? I guess your friends on the other side of the bridge just want to watch, then.”
When they ignored her comment, she assumed they didn’t speak English. They merely snarled and urged her to attack them, apparently waiting for her to go first. She didn’t have to look to know Britt was already in battle with his attackers. So why weren’t these two fighting her?
One look proved that Britt had a slight glow. “Don’t do it, Britt,” she shouted. “I have the feeling someone wants to see what you can do.”
His glow disappeared, and he took out one vamp with a stake.
She crossed her arms and looked at the growling, but so far passive, vampires near her. “Are we merely having a battle of wills? That’s not much fun.”
They didn’t seem to understand or care what she’d said. In fact, it seemed more like they were keeping her occupied while Britt fought the other two. She could only think of one reason they’d do that.
“C’mon. O
ne of you needs to get this thing going or I’ll kick your asses, anyway,” she said.
She noted the immediate anger in the vampire’s eyes. Apparently, the one on her right must understand English. She beckoned to him with her hands. “What are you waiting for? Or, are you afraid of a woman vampire?”
One of the vampires lurched toward her, but held himself back at the last minute.
“Are you afraid of me? Is that it?” She deliberately goaded them, her feet were planted wide and her knife a mere decoration resting against her right forearm.
The vampire who understood English snarled again. His eyes had gone black and his teeth were showing, but he wouldn’t look her in the eye. He still didn’t make a move against her.
“I’m getting the feeling neither of you are able to fight. You’re just waiting for the strong ones over there to finish—” She motioned toward the vamps fighting Britt at the same moment she heard an explosion of molecules. “Or should I say the solitary vampire who’s left.”
They looked even angrier after the vampire had dissipated into the atmosphere, gone forever. Still, they waited.
“Ah crap, are you going to make me come after you? I wanted to say I tried not to fight.” She let the grin on her face show her teeth and her intent. She’d had enough of the lollygagging. She was about to kick their asses.
There was another burst of molecules behind her. Britt had taken out both vampires, and she hadn’t even started to fight yet.
Instead of trying to rip her heart out, the two vampires glanced at each other quickly after Britt finished, almost as if they didn’t know what to do next.
What the hell?
Unexpectedly—they turned tail and ran. Jess watched them with a sinking feeling of unrequited need to send them back to hell.
“Okay, that was weird. What’s going on?”
Britt brushed a little soot off his shoulder. “I’m wondering the same thing. Why didn’t your vamps attack you?”
“Were they testing you, or did they want to get rid of you?” she said in a whisper.
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