“Who is it you’re afraid of, Papa?” she asked, knowing she’d tick him off with her comments.
He took another sip of his drink. “None of your business. He’s my problem.”
So, Sinclair feared whoever lived in that neighborhood. She nearly blurted out that she’d seen Regent disappear there, but suddenly, and without warning, she was overwhelmed with fear for her brother, Regent. Sinclair would do whatever he needed to do to get to the person he’d been searching for. Her brother was a mere mortal who might get in the way.
Did that mean she cared about him? Was that even possible? Or was it just that he was her brother and she couldn’t let anyone take him away from her until she had a chance to better understand their relationship.
She could try another approach. Sinclair most likely wouldn’t believe—shouldn’t believe—what she was about to say. “I’m worried for you, Papa. If I can help you, I will. After all, you’re trying to have me installed as head of the Order. Together we can find this person who is vexing you.”
His brows drew together into deep lines, and rare irritation churned behind his irises. He obviously didn’t trust what she’d just said. And no wonder—she’d never pretended to have any feelings for him whatsoever before.
She’d have to be more convincing from now on, but she couldn’t be completely out of character, so she allowed her teeth to grow just a little longer. “Or, I can just go slake a few sheep and take my medicine and leave you to him. You probably don’t need me, anyway.”
Still irritated but obviously mystified, his suspicion faded just a little. She’d have to watch her tongue from now on if she wanted to trick him into trusting her with the kind of information he’d been keeping from her.
He reached into his breast pocket and pulled out several packets of her medicine and handed them to her.
“Five?” she said. He never gave her that many at one time.
“Yes, but take it judiciously, Bibitte,” he said, whispering the endearment he had used since she was a very young girl. “I’m going to be very busy over the next few months, and I don’t want you to run out. Promise me, you’ll only use one per week.”
She stared at him, then at the packets in her hand. Did he know she was addicted? It certainly seemed that way right now. Old bastard!
“I’ll only use one,” she said, shoving them into her tiny purse and slinging it over her shoulder. “I’m on the late shift tonight. I’d better go.”
He nodded, looking instantly relieved that she’d be leaving again.
He obviously wanted her gone. But why did he sit on that stool and watch that rotting house on the other side of the street? And what had happened to Regent?
She left Sinclair reluctantly and made her way to LaCave.
IT WAS DIFFICULT to concentrate at work that night. She made three Longina Iced Teas, and motioned for the waiter to pick them up. Meanwhile, Gervais made at least ten different drinks in the time she’d made three. What a show-off.
Still, she was definitely preoccupied. If anything happened to Regent because she’d protected her Papa, would she ever be able to forgive herself?
Then again, maybe Jess had already found Regent and hadn’t bothered to let her know.
Initially, she’d planned to tell Jess where she’d seen him, but she had to find out what her father had been doing there, first. It was crucial that she maintain his trust in order to keep her drug coming.
She picked up a glass to make another Iced Tea and squeezed too hard. It crushed in her hand, sending a shard of glass into her palm. She hissed and pulled out the long sliver, then squeezed her hand tight to stop the bleeding. As a vampire, she healed quickly. But in the meantime, the scent of blood caused Gervais’s nostrils to flare, and he turned black eyes on her.
“Go get some supplies in the cave if you can’t hold it together,” she ordered.
He scowled at her and might have cursed her on his way by. She knew he’d like nothing better than to sink his teeth into her right now. He slowed behind her, and she turned on him. “Go now, Gervais, or you’ll be sorry.”
It was almost a relief to see him like this. Most of the time, his quiet demeanor drove her irritation into the red. She never knew what he was thinking. It was hard to believe that it had been better to have Diesel around—at least she’d always known what he’d been up to, either mooning over her or lusting for her. At least, until he’d turned on her and tried to recruit Jess into the Order of Revenant, instead of her.
Two hours later, she couldn’t work any longer. Unbelievably, she’d been too worried about Regent. No human had ever been able to get under her skin—and she didn’t like it.
Lately, on nights like this, she’d dropped by Regent’s place after work. As late as it was, he always welcomed her with open arms. In fact, she was pretty sure he waited for her every Wednesday evening. That made her wonder what her existence might have been like if she hadn’t been kidnapped by Sinclair. She didn’t even mind terribly when Regent called her on her cell every day or two. They’d fallen into a kind of sibling pattern. And when she was rude to him, he still treated her the same he did Jess.
A squidgy, unexplained feeling bit into her gut. Where was he now? She’d saved him from a vampire attack the other night, and now he was missing. What if someone had it in for him? What if he was already dead? At least he’d still been alive when she’d seen him.
She walked to the small green space across the street from Regent’s apartment. She knew he wouldn’t be there, but she sat on a nearby park bench anyway. Sometimes she stood here and watched her brother through his window at night. What would life have been like if he’d been part of her existence?
She blinked hard. Her damned eyes had dried out and felt irritated.
No sense standing in the shadows in this tiny park tonight. Regent wasn’t home, and he wouldn’t be home anytime soon, if what she’d seen had been any indication. He was in deep trouble, and so far, she’d done nothing to help him.
She started walking again. This time she walked past the café where Regent ate his meal every evening without change.
Again, she thought about the night she’d saved him from that big beast of a vampire. What Regent didn’t know was that the guy had been a vampire hit man. He killed for a fee, and it didn’t matter if his intended victim was human or vampire as long as he was paid, and paid well.
She realized too late that she should have told Jess when Regent had been targeted. She’d killed the hit man—but had someone sent another? Was that why Regent had been in that vehicle, bruised and bloodied? Jess would freak if she knew that information, given that he was missing right now.
She had to talk to Jess again. She’d never searched out her sister before this, their rivalry was too palpable, but if something happened to Regent . . .
She yanked out her cell and dialed Jess’s number.
Jess answered almost immediately.
“It’s me,” she said. “Tell me what you know about Regent’s disappearance.”
“What do you mean, what I know? You’re the one who saw him disappear,” Jess shouted.
“No. I mean. You knew he was missing before I told you. How did you know that? Did something happen before I saw him?”
Jess remained silent on the line long enough that Morana thought she might hang up on her. “He was in the Louvre when a vampire stole a painting, and we believe the thief kidnapped them in the process.”
Morana frowned. “First a vampire tries to take him out on the street and now this,” she said. “It doesn’t sound random.”
“I know. But there’s no way anyone could have even known he’d be at the Louvre. They might have optimized on the occasion, though.”
“Have you found him yet?”
“No.”
THIS WASN’T LO
OKING good, Jess thought. They’d scoured the city, searching for clues about where Regent had disappeared to. But at least Morana now seemed willing to talk. She was meeting them near the Eiffel Tower. Jess wondered if she’d found out any new information after talking with her adoptive father. And if she was going to be as offensive as she usually was.
A few minutes later, Jess saw Morana trying to sneak up on them—a power trip for her when she succeeded. But not this time.
“Hi, Morana,” Jess said, without turning her head.
Morana seemed to respect her sister’s abilities, even if she didn’t much care for her.
“Where is he, Morana? Tell us now before it’s too late for him.”
“Who was the vampire that stole the painting?” Morana asked.
Jess made a disgusted noise and rolled her eyes. Britt touched her elbow. “If we knew that, do you think we’d be out here hopelessly searching? Goddamn it, Morana, where did you see him?”
MORANA HEARD THE desperation in her voice. Jess hadn’t forced her to tell her. Why? Because she had trusted her to do what was right for their brother? Their brother!
In a bid to slake the emotions a vampire should never experience—love for a brother—Morana eyed Britt up and down again. He was pretty hot. She could only imagine what he’d be like in the sack.
“Morana!” Jess said sharply, sounding as if her tolerance for her newfound sister was about to snap.
“What?” She dared Jess to chastise her for staring at her man. Her own stomach had twisted into a knot. What was wrong with her? Why play these games when she was as worried as Jess? Damn her black soul.
“Tell me what happened first, then I’ll share what I know,” she said.
Jess hissed out an irritated sound. “We already told you. A vampire stole a painting from the Louvre and most likely kidnapped Regent and Sampson. The thieves just happened to be there at the same time as Regent and Sampson. I know you don’t give a crap about them, but I do. You need to tell me what you know. Now!”
Morana’s insides still felt tight. Regent had gotten to her. “There’s a very complicated reason that I can’t tell you where I saw him disappear,” she said. “I’m working on getting the information I need first, then I’ll tell you. I promise.” Sinclair would talk tonight or he’d be sorry.
Jess made an anguished sound that Morana had never heard from a vampire before.
“Get a hold of yourself, Jess,” Britt said softly.
“I don’t understand you,” Jess said. “You don’t care about anyone but yourself.” She sucked in a long breath, obviously trying to regain control. “I guess I can’t blame you for that. You are what you are, and you’re probably not able to deviate from that. Regent won’t blame you if he dies because you wouldn’t help him—that’s the kind of brother he is.” Real tears streamed down Jess’s face.
Morana almost reached out to touch them. She had no idea vampires could cry.
Before Morana said another word, Britt added, “You really are a cold-hearted b—.” He halted mid-sentence and shoved his hands into his pockets.
She sucked in an angry breath. “What were you going to say, lover? Bitch? If so, I wear that moniker proudly. I’m not just some vampire in Paris you know. I’m Jess’s twin, and Regent’s beloved long-lost sister.”
“Who’ll let him die without trying to help.” Britt’s voice had gone raspy.
Jess pressed a hand on his perfect pectorals to stop him from going any further with this conversation. “Let’s agree to get along for the time being, shall we? I don’t know what’s going to happen to him—if it hasn’t already . . .” She stopped. Couldn’t say the word. Instead she stared coldly at Morana. “And forget what I said a minute ago about Regent forgiving you. It’s not true. Not only will it be untenable for him to die because his sister wouldn’t help him, it would break his heart to know you’d let him suffer without lifting a single bedazzled fingernail.”
“Guilt doesn’t work on me, either,” Morana said. “You’re keeping secrets from me. For instance, has Regent done something to make the vampires in Paris angry enough to want revenge against him?”
“Morana, I know you don’t have the same sense of sibling connection that I do, but do you really think Regent is out there making enemies of vampires? If anyone has done that, it’s Britt and me, not an elderly priest.”
Morana’s curiosity deepened. “Elderly, you say? Strange choice of words.” Regent had already told her what had happened to him, but would Jess? Would she be honest with her?
Jess shared an irritated glance with Britt while she marched toward the Seine’s riverbank.
“You don’t trust me to help you, but you align yourselves with someone like Vlad Basarab?” Morana said.
“Basarab?”
“He doesn’t share his last name often, even though he’s taken the name Vlad, he denies the truth of his name.”
“What’s his lineage have to do with Regent’s kidnapping, Morana?” Britt asked. “We don’t have time for this!”
“Maybe you should take the time. Basarabs were rulers in Transylvania. One of the descendants of the House of Basarab was the real Vlad the Impaler, though I hear your illustrious friend denies being any relation.”
“No way,” Britt said.
“It’s a popular rumor. Who knows if it has any merit?” Morana said, suddenly getting bored with the topic. She used to look up to Vlad until he began seeing LaFontaine. Now, he was a disappointment.
“As much as I don’t admire him,” Jess said, “he’s probably the best hope for Regent right now. He has connections in this city. He’s more powerful than you probably realize, and he’s trying to help us. Which is more than you’re doing!”
Her sister was angrier than she’d ever seen her. Most likely the only reason Jess didn’t try to kick Morana’s ass was that Regent wouldn’t want it. Morana was a disappointment in so many ways.
“I’ve got to go,” Morana said.
“No! Please tell me where to look for Regent first, Morana. If you have any hope of ever seeing your brother again, do it for him. I’m begging you,” Jess said.
Morana turned on her like a rabid dog. “I have no brother and no sister,” she said, spitefully. “You left me alone to be raised by Sinclair.”
“You and Jess were infants, Morana,” Britt said. “What could Jess do? She didn’t even know you existed.”
Her eyes narrowed on Jess. She hated seeing her own face staring back at her from someone who hunted vampires—a traitor who expected Morana to fall in line and help her.
She felt the darkness seeping back into her heart. She welcomed it. Having any type of feeling for a human was wrong, and it went against everything her vampire being told her.
She turned around and walked away without looking back. She’d nearly gotten all the way home before she thought about the painting. Why would it be stolen? And what vampire would want it?
She went inside to find Sinclair imbibing his favorite beverage and watching the news. What luck—the TV channel was discussing the theft at the Louvre. A painting called Le Corbeau, or The Raven, had been stolen. When she heard the name of the artist, it felt like ice-cold spiders were crawling across her skin.
Joseph Emanuel Calmet! She turned and looked at Sinclair. “Where have I heard that name before?”
Sinclair took a long, deliberate sip of his drink. His eyes were glassy, and his mouth had gone lax. Truly, she hated this man.
“How should I know?”
She narrowed her gaze on him. “I can’t put my finger on it, but I have the feeling you do know. You know it very well. Tell me why you sit on that stool across the street from a decomposing mansion! The last time I saw my brother, he was there, and now he’s disappeared.”
Sinclair’s fanatical expression suddenl
y snapped to clarity. “Where? Regent has disappeared there?”
“Yes, and I haven’t told Jess where he disappeared because of you. I need to know why you spend time there before I give her the location.”
“There are things you will never know about me, my darling. You’ve gone your whole life oblivious to this side of me. You should leave it at that. Knowing could be dangerous for you.”
“I don’t trust you anymore, Sinclair. You’ve lied to me my whole existence. You use me for your own gain and pretend to want to seat me in a position of power. But you’re the one who wants the power!”
“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” Sinclair growled before pushing himself out of his chair. He wobbled for a minute, most likely waiting for his brain to stop spinning before he staggered away from her and down the hall to his room. A room he’d recently reinforced. He’d put vampire proof locks on the inside of his door.
Dearest Papa might be realizing his daughter was a deadly threat to him. It was about time.
Chapter Nineteen
CARDINAL VASILLI WAS at their front doorstep when Jess and Britt got home. It was an hour before dawn, and they hadn’t found a single clue about Regent’s disappearance. She had seen vampires hunting for him, though. She and Britt had been hunting from the rooftops as they did in New York, whereas Vlad’s team hunted on the ground. They’d spotted her and Britt every time. She was impressed with their ability and could only hope they’d find her brother before it was too late.
Why hadn’t she forced Morana to tell her what she knew? Their sibling bond was growing even thinner, and if she didn’t help soon, it would snap.
“Go away, Vasilli. You’re not welcome here,” she said striding past him to her front door. She had no time for fools when she was so worried about Regent and Sampson. Vasilli would do better to stay well away from her.
Either too stupid to live, or just having a death wish, Vasilli laughed in that nasal way that made her flesh crawl. She’d never liked him, especially when he’d shown what a coward he’d been back in New York. He’d forced them to face a true Fallen angel who’d become a vampire, a force so strong and intelligent they’d nearly lost the battle. In fact, they’d only managed to win when she allowed Uriel, the angel turned vampire, to take her body and soul. She’d died, and it hadn’t been so bad. Maybe that’s what she wanted all along?
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