Crown of Whispers

by Isabella August

  Jean smiled calmly at that. “Everyone is in my pocket to some extent,” he replied. “Does that make you feel any better, Detective?”

  That perfect, unaffected smile only jabbed at Jasmine’s already-frayed nerves. She pried the lid off of the to-go cup, lifting her arm to toss the iced coffee at the man in front of her—but Jean moved much faster. The cup spilled to the ground. Jasmine found herself pinned to the brick wall behind her, pressed back by the hard line of Jean’s body.

  The situation knocked the breath from her—and not just because she’d hit the wall with a decent bit of force. That faint European cologne was now overwhelmingly close; Jean’s cool body pressed against hers, oddly relieving in the awful heat of the night. He looked down at her with those hard silver eyes; his breath stirred against her lips as he dipped his head close enough to whisper to her.

  “And now half of the station will believe that you are in my bed,” Jean murmured. “Keep pushing your luck, Detective, and you will find out how much worse you can make things for yourself.”

  Jasmine swallowed. Her pulse hammered against her neck. There was a predatory look in Jean’s eyes now—not quite sexual, but hungry, all the same. She knew that look. She had seen it on another vampire, just before he’d torn into her neck.

  It terrified her—utterly. But something about that predatory feeling excited her, too, in a purely physiological way. Borrowed vampire blood surged in Jasmine’s veins, hungry to be fed on, hungry to feed. It made her feel sick, and dirty, and hideously ashamed.

  Jean’s expression didn’t change—but he must have seen something of that fear and sickness on Jasmine’s features. He stepped back abruptly, letting her go.

  “Je m’excuse,” he murmured. “That was inartful of me. It was not my intention to terrify you tonight, Detective.”

  Jasmine’s jaw trembled embarrassingly for a moment. “What did you come here for, you piece of shit leech?” she whispered hoarsely.

  Jean smiled—but this time, there was no humor behind the expression. “I have been briefed on some of the most basic details of your case,” he said. “This particular bar is a common feeding ground. I fear that your murderer may be someone related to my court. If that is so, then you are ill-equipped to deal with the situation yourself.”

  Jasmine swallowed hard. The dizziness of that cologne, of the fear and the need, had yet to fully disappear. “Your warning is duly noted,” she rasped. “Now get the hell out of my sight. I killed one vampire already, in case you’ve managed to forget. I can kill another one if I have to.”

  Jean frowned at that. “You have killed a vampire before,” he said slowly. “And yes—I believe that you can kill another. But this is a political game, Detective; it will involve many vampires. And they will all know exactly how to take advantage of your condition.”

  Jasmine froze. Again, her breath caught in her lungs.

  Jean didn’t need to elaborate any further. He knew of Jasmine’s condition, of course. How he had learned of it, she still wasn’t sure—but Jean had shown up not long after her incident, offering assurances that none of the other vampires in Montreal would touch her ever again.

  He’d also offered to complete her change.

  You have tasted vampire blood, Jean had told her. But that simply makes you an addict. You will crave blood, but it will never satisfy… not unless you become a full vampire.

  “I understand your reticence,” Jean said calmly. Was there a hint of sympathy in his voice, as he said it? That sympathy was probably just a careful front. Jean Belmont was so good at presenting just the right attitude to endear himself to his audience. “But I can help you, Detective. I would like to help you.”

  Jasmine pressed her lips together. I am not going to fall apart in front of this leech, she thought. Especially not the King Leech himself. “I have never wanted your help,” she said hoarsely. “I don’t care how nice you ask, or how concerned you pretend to be. I’m not dropping this case.”

  Jean met her eyes seriously. “I am not suggesting that you drop this case, Detective,” he said. “In fact, I would like very much for you to continue working on it. You are by far the best person for the job.” He considered her intensely. “I am offering to help you. I have access to resources that you do not. And I think that we can both agree that we would prefer this murderer caught before they kill again.”

  Jean pulled out a bright white business card. He offered it out to Jasmine, who stared at it as though it were a hot coal.

  “I’m not jumping into your pocket,” she said. “I don’t care how nicely you phrased it. You want me to give you back-channel access to privileged information.”

  Jean shook his head with a heavy sigh. “I already have back-channel access to privileged information,” he said. “What I am offering you is a line back to me. This is my personal phone number. You will need to question vampires—and I am sure you do not wish to be alone or unprotected while you do so.”

  Jasmine swallowed. I can handle vampires, she wanted to say. But the words stuck in her throat.

  Just because Jasmine could handle vampires—just because she had handled them—that didn’t mean she was eager to repeat the experience. It was one thing to be confident in her own abilities, and another thing entirely to be suicidal.

  Jasmine snatched the card from Jean’s hand and shoved it into her pocket. Her face burned with anger and humiliation. “Leave,” she told him. “You said what you wanted. You gave me what you wanted. There’s nothing left for you to do here.”

  Jean stepped further back. There was a smooth, unaffected look on his features that galled her. He was satisfied with her reaction—he knew that he’d won. But the son of a bitch was too classy to let that satisfaction show on his face.

  “You are right, of course,” he acknowledged. “Thank you for your time, Detective. I know how valuable it is.”

  The seigneur of the city turned away from Jasmine then, and headed back out into the street. He got into a sleek silver car on the other side from the crime scene. The door closed behind him, and Jasmine realized that he had gotten in the last word.

  It was just like him to make that last word so excruciatingly polite.

  Acknowledgments

  Crown of Whispers was possibly my most difficult book yet. I realized partway through that, as enthused as I am about all matters cryptographic, it was going to be a tall order to write a book that explained cybersecurity without a bunch of dry, technical terms. To their credit, none of my alpha readers said why are you writing a paranormal romance novel with complicated cybersecurity plot points. Instead, they said “hey, that’s neat… but do you think you could make it even simpler to understand?”

  I hope everyone enjoyed the brief technological dive. I promise to focus on slightly less mystifying stuff for the next few books.

  I owe my husband quite a lot for his endless support (and for his endless homemade cookies). I owe thanks to my penname partner for her many helpful edits, and to my alpha readers, Laura Elizabeth and Julie Golick, who helped me turn this into a readable novel. And I would definitely like to thank Sophie Ricard for nitpicking my French and suggesting a few particularly fantastic phrases.

  I would also thank my old professors for turning me into a security nerd… but I suspect they’d be deeply concerned if they knew how I’d decided to use their lectures.

  About the Author

  Isabella August is the collaborative pen name for a pair of childhood friends who now live two thousand miles apart—one in Montreal, Quebec and one in Dallas, Texas. They regularly bond over their husbands, cats, and local D&D groups.

  At various times, the two writers have been a web developer, a resume editor, a professional witch at a metaphysical supply store, and a chainmail artist—but we won't tell you which is which.

  Craving more naughty faerie tales? We send out regular updates on our writing (and our cats) in our Wicked Tales newsletter. Subscribers also get early access to chapters from each b
ook, before anyone else!

  https://isabellaaugust.com

  info@isabellaaugust.com

  Appendix: The Zodiac

  Aries (Fire)

  + Adventure, Creativity, Exorcism, Strength, Vitality

  - Conflict, Fury

  Greater Anchor: Weapons

  Lesser Anchors: Bloodstone, Holly

  Taurus (Earth)

  + Comfort, Good Fortune, Home, Love, Stability, Wealth

  - Greed, Stubbornness

  Greater Anchor: Plants

  Lesser Anchors: Emerald, Ashwood

  Gemini (Air)

  + Communication, Intellect, Movement, Travel

  - Capriciousness, Impatience

  Greater Anchor: Coins

  Lesser Anchors: Aluminum, Elderwood

  Cancer (Water)

  + Divination, Emotion, Friendship, Life

  - Madness

  Greater Anchor: Moonlight

  Lesser Anchors: Silver, Moonstone

  Leo (Fire)

  + Bravery, Enthusiasm, Fame, Leadership, Light

  - Vanity

  Greater Anchor: Sunlight

  Lesser Anchors: Gold, Amber

  Virgo (Earth)

  + Banishing, Evolution, Grounding, Healing, Meditation, Responsibility

  - Despair, Isolation

  Greater Anchor: Writing

  Lesser Anchors: Platinum, Sapphire

  Libra (Air)

  + Beauty, Diplomacy, Glamor, Harmony, Justice, Relationships

  - Avoidance, Duplicitousness

  Greater Anchor: Feathers

  Lesser Anchors: Copper, Walnut

  Scorpio (Water)

  + Banishing, Blood, Healing, Intuition, Passion, Secrets, Sex

  - Death, Decay

  Greater Anchor: Blood

  Lesser Anchors: Iron, Opal

  Sagittarius (Fire)

  + Aspiration, Exploration, Freedom, Optimism, Wisdom

  - Inconsistency, Overconfidence

  Greater Anchor: Fire

  Lesser Anchors: Brass, Oak

  Capricorn (Earth)

  + Achievement, Ambition, Ancestry, Command, Respect

  - Moodiness, Overcaution

  Greater Anchor: Bone

  Lesser Anchors: Lead, Salt

  Aquarius (Air)

  + Rebellion, Righteousness, Intellectualism, Invention, Spell-Breaking

  - Fanaticism

  Greater Anchor: Cups

  Lesser Anchors: Amethyst, Wormwood

  Pisces (Water)

  + Artisticness, Creativity, Dreams, Illusion, Intuition

  - Cowardice, Escapism

  Greater Anchor: Water

  Lesser Anchors: Pearl, Tin

  Also by Isabella August

  Faerie Lords

  Crown of Frost (Taurus)

  Crown of Briars (Scorpio)

  Crown of Glass (Cancer)

  Crown of Salt (Capricorn)

  Crown of Whispers (Gemini)

  Crown of Madness (Forthcoming)