Death toll and profiterole: A paranormal cozy mystery (Fangs and psychics mysteries Book 1)

by Penny BroJacquie

  “Is not it a bit early for wine?”

  He raised an eyebrow as his eyes darted to mine above his glass of wine. “No mind reading, okay?”

  “I did not read your thoughts. Okay, I may I have read just a bit of what is going in your mind right now.”

  I did not have the energy to argue with him. “Well, who are those people? And why did you kill them? Are you a vigilante? A bounty hunter? Even bad people should have a fair trial.”

  He placed his fork and knife on the empty plate. “We will have this conversation later. Right now, all you need to know is that you are safe here. Any other questions?” He smiled.

  I had to admit that he had a sweet smile.

  “How long have you been telepathic?”

  “For ages. Ever since I remember myself.”

  “Are there any other telepathic people?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Have you met one?”

  “I have met you. Anyway, this is a long story. We will talk about this another time.”

  A few seconds passed before I realized that I was staring at him. Having felt the weight of my gaze, he looked at me, making my pulse race. In an unexpecting move, he reached over and slid a few strains of my hair off my face. “Sweet,” he said softly, and my heart flipped over.

  He gave me a look that made my stomach go fluttery before he got off the room.

  “Oh my...,” I muttered.

  I pulled my phone out of my purse and I texted Louise asking her whereabouts.

  “She will not text you back.” Alexandre had returned silently in the kitchen room.

  “How do you know?”

  “Next question.”

  “Okay,” I muttered confused. Not being able to penetrate his mind was giving me a hard time. This man was a riddle. “Are there many like us?” I asked again.

  “There are many people that have telepathic powers but not all of them are humans.”

  “What?” I almost choked.

  His fingertips slid on the scratched surface of the table before he answered. “The guy whose mind you read last night, the one who died outside the bistro, he was a vampire.”

  “Are you freaking serious?” With an eyebrow raised, I looked at him baffled not knowing whether he was serious, or he was playing with me.

  He put his hand in his pocket. “As I told you, that man was a vampire__”

  “And you are a vampire slayer.”

  “In a way, I am.” He silenced for a few seconds. “To be honest I am a vampire myself.”

  I drew my chair back with a loud sound and stood up on my feet.

  “I want to get the heck out of here!”

  “Wait. Not all vampires are dangerous. I am not dangerous. And my job is to make sure that no human will ever be attacked by a vampire.”

  “Are you successful in doing that?” My hands were shaking.

  “Not always.”

  “When was the last time that you failed?”

  “The day before yesterday.”

  “Oh, merde. What happened?”

  “A young woman was killed.”

  “Where? In Paris?”

  “Yes. The guy that threatened you in your shop was the murderer. He was the one who attacked you last night and the one who I exterminated by injecting the silver substance with my brass syringe.”

  “So ... you are saying that that dude in my shop was a vampire?”

  “Exactly. And now he is gone. He will never threaten you again. I took care of him.”

  “Good. Thank you. I think.” I had no words to describe how relieved I felt. That was not going to last long though.

  “There is also one more thing I need to tell you.”

  “Okay.”

  “It is something that will sadden you a lot.”

  “Okay.”

  “And I do not know how to say that to you.”

  “Okay.”

  “Louise ... Your waitress ... She was the victim.”

  “What?”

  “The vampire I killed last night was responsible for Louise’s murder.”

  “Louise is dead? Louise? My Louise?”

  “I am so sorry.”

  I could not stop the flow of tears that rolled down my cheeks.

  “Why? Why did he kill my Louise?”

  “Because he thought that she had something extremely valuable to him. When he realized that she had nothing to do with it, he thought that you had what he was looking for. That is why he attacked you.”

  “What was that thing?” I tried to look composed, desperate to hide the deep sadness that lurked within me.

  “It is a glass vial filled with a radiant blue liquid. Do you know what I am talking about?”

  I had no idea.

  “I read his mind,” he said, “and I know that he was sure that the vial with the blue liquid was somewhere near you. We must look for it. We must find it. I must find it.”

  “Why is it so valuable for you?”

  “Because our existence depends on it. And I must find it before anyone else does.”

  “I just learnt that my waitress and the only friend I have is dead and you are expecting me to go for a treasure hunt with you? To find a vial that has no significant importance to me? Are you so cold hearted?”

  “Indeed, I am. Remember? I am a vampire. But I need to find the vial now. If I do not, then some other bad guy, or vampire, will come looking for it and you are going to be in danger again. So, yes, I am asking you to help me find it before you are dead too.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  *

  DUST FILLED THE AIR as Alexandre dropped a heavy book with a distressed leather cover on the kitchen table.

  “For my kind, this is the book of all books,” he said as he started flipping carefully through the brittle pages. “The stories of the vampire origins are in here. Every secret of our existence and every keynote to our survival is in here. I would kill myself to prevent our enemies to get hold of it if I had to.”

  He narrowed his eyes when I gave him a leery look.

  “Here it is,” he said as he stopped turning the book pages and pointed at a hand-drawn image of a vial. “This is the vial we are looking for. The blue liquid it contains is lethal for us, vampires. Whom he gets hold of it can lead our entire species to extinction.”

  “You said that Louise’s killer was a vampire himself. Why would a vampire want to acquire something so powerful that could lead to their own extinction?”

  “Power; this is the answer. The vampire who possesses such a valuable secret can become the most powerful vampire of all. No one could stop him from setting his plans in action.”

  “What exactly is that blue liquid?”

  “I cannot reveal all of our secrets to you at once; not at least until I know that you are a trustworthy ally of mine.”

  “Fair enough,” I said. “However, I wonder what Louise had to do with this vial and why she had to lose her life for it.”

  “This is not the only vial that contains leacht gorm; the powerful blue liquid. Louise somehow obtained one of the vials that exist around the world. When Norman, her killer, found out that a waitress from Le Coeur had obtained one of the little bottles of leacht gorm, he broke into her house and got rid of her. However, he did not find where she kept the vial. Norman thought that you were the one who had been the vial holder all that time and he attacked you last night. Now that I exterminated him, his partner is looking for you. Alysson, he is going to kill you if he finds you.”

  My heartbeat sped up and my hand trembled as I pointed at the image on the book.

  “They think that I have got one those vials? And they are going to kill me if they find me?”

  “That is what I said.”

  I was scared to death. However, I did not know if I should trust a guy who I had practically just met. He was polite and well mannered, but I still felt nervous with him around.

  I could not read his mind. Him being able to block my way to his thoughts was nerve
wracking.

  “How do I know you are not lying to me?”

  “You saw what happened last night. Was that not enough for you to believe that everything I am saying to you is real and trust me?”

  “How do I know that last night’s attack was not a prank? How could I know that you and Louise did not stage it to have a good laugh at me?”

  Honestly, I hoped that it was all a prank and Louise was still alive.

  His gaze on me was so intense that it took my breath away. I tried to utter a word, but not a single noise came out of my mouth.

  His lips moved and a shiver chased itself up my back as I thought he was going to kiss me. What followed, well... I could not have it predicted.

  Sharp fangs were revealed beneath his thin lips. Drops of sweat rolled down my nape and my breasts moved up and down when his cold lips touched the soft part of my flesh. As if he were hypnotized, he scratched with his sharp gang my skin from my ear to my neck. My soul was conquered with feelings I could neither explain, nor comprehend. What I felt was more like pleasure than fear. A small cry escaped my mouth and pulled him out of his dream.

  “What is French for what the frack just happened here?” I asked.

  “Do you believe me now?” he asked.

  “You scared the heck out of me. Like I do not already have too much to deal with,” I groaned.

  A loud “bang” made my heart race like a crazy horse. A man dressed in a black leather uniform as if he was the protagonist of a cyberpunk movie appeared out of nowhere in the middle of the kitchen room.

  I knew that I was in trouble when another loud “bang” echoed in the room accompanied by Alexandre’s cry of pain.

  “Alexandre!” I shouted when I saw the man having grabbed Alexandre’s hands and twisted them behind his back.

  I closed my eyes firmly and what followed ... well, I never knew that I had the power to do it. The man in the black leather cyberpunk uniform froze and Alexandre freed himself of his hold.

  With a quick move, Alexandre dragged his brass syringe out of his pocket and got it rammed into his opponent’s neck. Within seconds the man’s body was disintegrated into a pile of white salt.

  “Well done, miss Burke,” Alexandre said with a charming smile on his face. “Do you believe me now?”

  I opened my mouth to utter some words of self-defense when a high-pitched noise sounded in my mind.

  “Mew!”

  Without being able to hide my surprise, I turned to Alexandre and said to him, “I know how to clear my name for Mrs. Guillaume’s murder.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  *

  THREE DAYS HAD PASSED since the day that my life had changed forever. I refilled my coffee cup, stirring in a bit of cream from a small porcelain cream bowl on the table.

  The morning had been a bit warm for mid-October and I had my hair up ready to start baking. As I mixed the ingredients in a large beige bowl, I recalled the events that followed my visit to Alexandre’s house.

  After we threw away what was left of our attacker, Alexandre and I left his house and went back to my shop. Lucien and his forensics were still there trying to figure out how I had supposedly poisoned Mrs. Guillaume. The black cat with the striking green eyes was still there, too.

  Yes, it was the cat that had meowed in my mind and helped me solve the mystery of her owner’s murder.

  Yes, Miseria Fourpaws was Mrs. Guillaume’s pet cat.

  And yes, she had witnessed her owner’s murder.

  Mrs. Guillaume was poisoned, but that we already knew. What we did not know by then was that the old lady’s murderer was one of my customers; the young tourist with the decayed tooth who had visited my patisserie looking for a cheap meal.

  Tony, that was his name, had just arrived in Paris. He was the only child of Mrs. Guillaume’s only child.

  When she was a teenager, Mrs. Guillaume had given birth to a baby girl. Her wealthy family had forced her to give the baby away to avoid the scandal. The baby was adopted by a nice American family. However, the father died when the girl was three years old and the mother raised her in poverty. The girl grew up to become a very unfortunate young woman. She gave birth to a boy, but the father never married her. Lost in grief and depression, the young mother overdosed. When Tony grew up, he took an oath; to get revenge for his mother's death.

  Tony discovered his grandmother's whereabouts and tracked her down. He found out that she used to have her coffee at my patisserie and from there he followed her at her home. He tried to talk to her about his mother; her daughter. But she told him to go away.

  Tony left but he hid in an alcove and watched her exiting her house and walking down the road. He followed her to a small private garden where she used to read her books. There, he tried to engage in a conversation with her, but again she told him to go away.

  When the woman collapsed, Tony panicked. He gave her to drink from a bottle of water he had with him, but a few minutes later Mrs. Guillaume died. He had forgotten that he had dropped a few relaxing pills in the water and the old woman practically overdosed. She was in poor health and she had never had drugs before, so her death was imminent.

  Miseria Fourpaws was there, too, and she witnessed everything. But that was not the most peculiar thing about that cat.

  Miseria Fourpaws was telepathic and she revealed to me she was not a cat at all. However, she declined to be more specific. She promised that she would reveal more about her real self only if I would adopt her and gain her trust.

  Anyway...

  Miseria told me how to find the bottle of water behind a bush in the private garden where Mrs. Guillaume had lost her life, and I passed that information to Lucien.

  His team retrieved the bottle and found Tony’s fingertips on it.

  The murder was solved, and I had a cat. A telepathic cat who claimed to not be a cat at all.

  Go figure.

  I finished up in the kitchen with the profiteroles and placed them on a porcelain plate. Curled up on a chair, Miseria opened an eye lazily.

  “Where is Lucien?” she asked in my mind.

  “He said he will be here by the afternoon.”

  “And Alexandre?”

  “We will meet later tonight. Do not you approve?” I asked her as I set down a plate of chocolate hazelnut crepes and a cup of steaming hot chocolate on the table. “Well, what do you think?”

  “Well, next time you should bake some macaroons,” the cat told me out loud. With a voice. A human voice.

  And that was the beginning of the next chapter in my life.

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  PROFITEROLE RECIPE

  INGREDIENTS

  Profiterole pastry balls (Choux Pastry)

  7 tbsp unsalted butter

  1 cup water

  1 cup flour

  4 eggs at room temperature

  Pinch of salt

  Custard Filling (Crème Pâtissiers):

  4 egg yolks

  1/4 cup white sugar

  1/2 cup corn flour / cornstarch

  2 1/3 cups milk

  1/4 cup extra white sugar

  1 tsp vanilla bean paste

  Chocolate Sauce Topping

  250g chocolate

  1 cup cream

  Place butter in a saucepan over medium heat. When mostly melted, add water then bring to a rapid simmer.

  Add flour and a pinch of salt; stir vigorously with a wooden spoon until the dough pulls away from the sides of the saucepan.

  Remove from heat and let mixture cool for 10 minutes.

  Preheat oven to 220C/420F (200C/390F fan/convection).

  Line two large baking trays with paper.

  Add eggs into batter, one at a time. Make sure each egg is combined before adding the next.

  Place do
ugh into a piping bag. Pipe 40 - 50 blobs.

  Bake two trays at a time for 15 minutes, switching the trays halfway.

  Transfer to rack.

  Let cool fully before filling with custard.

  CUSTARD FILLING

  Whisk yolks, sugar, and then corn flour.

  Place milk, vanilla and extra sugar in a saucepan over medium high. Heat until just before simmering.

  Whisk in 1/4 cup hot milk into egg mixture. Then another 1/4 cup.

  Add remaining milk. Mixture and whisk.

  Pour back into saucepan. Return to stove on medium low and whisk until the mixture thickens.

  Remove from heat. Pour into bowl. Press cling wrap onto surface and refrigerate for up to 5 hours.

  Spoon into piping bag. Make a hole and pipe into profiteroles.

  Drizzle with chocolate.

  CHOCOLATE SAUCE

  Place cream and chocolate in a bowl. Microwave 10 seconds, and another 10, and another 10, stirring in between.

  ENJOY!

  PENNY BROJACQUIE’S BOOKS

  https://pennybrojacquie.com/my-books/

  Series Starters

  THE ORDER OF THE BLACK ROSE

  https://www.amazon.com/dp/B081KTSDRJ

  AVALLON ACADEMY

  https://www.amazon.com/dp/B08161LK44

  TARTARUS REFORM ACADEMY FOR UNRULY GODS

  https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0841SX57N

  FANGS AND PSYCHICS

  http://www.amazon.com/dp/B081HB5ZVM

  Acknowledgments

  This book is dedicated in loving memory of my author friend Joan E. Hartman from Coeur d'Alene, Idaho.

  Special thanks to Liana, my editor from Learning to Fly for all the work and effort she put in my book. She is an author’s treasure.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  PENNY BROJACQUIE IS a USA Today Best Selling author.

  After a 20-years career working as a sports reporter for some of the largest media outlets in Greece, she decided that life is more beautiful when you work freelance.