by Tamsin Baker
He caught another glimpse of that unmistakable hair through the crowd and then she met his eyes.
Lucien picked up his drink and feigned interest in the amber liquid and the clinking ice cubes. He even pretended to take a sip, warmth from the small drop of whiskey he took into his mouth spreading over his lips. Kissing Katrine would send that same warmth through his body.
The memory of that joy, that connection that had fed his soul with his beloved Elise was all he had. His maker had taken his human life, but the embers of human needs and desires still burned. Embers that he hadn’t dare fan into fire.
Katrine now had her back to him, the thick waves of her burnished auburn hair cascading past her shoulders. The dark forest green of her dress accentuated her pale skin and hugged her body.
She fitted in with the other pale-skinned, beautiful Eternel women and obviously fooled the patrons.
Perhaps he could talk to her in this crowd. If she didn’t sit too close. The next time she caught his eye, if there was a next time, he wouldn’t look away.
CHAPTER 3
Alain Chastain shrugged on his jacked, grabbed the car keys and resigned himself to another night of endless coffee and endless questions.
A body in the Montparnasse cemetery, had been inconveniently discovered just as his shift was supposedly ending.
‘Sorry to mess up your night.’ Juliet Dubois hurried to catch up to him.
‘You kept me back for a stabbing? Can’t the night crew handle it?’
‘This,’ she slid into the passenger seat. ‘This isn’t your everyday murder.’
There was no point in asking for detail; he’d see them for himself soon enough. Make his own assessment. Juliet didn’t comment further. They understood each other’s idiosyncrasies.
Flashing red and blue from two police cars strobed across the cemetery fence and two uniforms were stringing police tape across the entrance. They parked, nodded to the uniforms and ducked under the tape.
Torchlight from two police guided them a few meters along the path, then onto the legs of a woman who lay sprawled between two graves, hair disheveled, blood congealed on her neck. Otherwise her clothes were undisturbed. The beam then trailed up to the victim’s throat, smeared and caked in shades of scarlet and burgundy, darkest around two puncture wounds.
‘Snake bite?’ One of the officers asked.
Hardly, the few species the country had certainly weren’t city dwellers. But that didn’t mean some crazy wasn’t keeping exotic pets.
‘In the city? Highly unlikely.’ Juliet confirmed, but didn’t offer an alternate explanation. That wasn’t like her. Alain glanced at his offsider who worried her bottom lip with her teeth. A sure sign something was ticking over in her brain.
‘What?’ Alain prompted.
‘What else would make a mark like this.’
It wasn’t a question. That she was reluctant to speak her mind had alarm bells jangling. Alarms that hadn’t rung for three decades. By the time Alain became a detective, vampires had integrated into society and bodies with bites were a thing of the past. He’d never seen one.
‘What do we know?’ Alain directed his question to the officer holding one of the torches. The officer handed over a plastic bag with a handbag and wallet.
‘ID. Renee Blanche. 25,’ the officer recited. ‘By her clothes, looks like she’s been out. Body’s still warm so she hasn’t been dead very long.’
‘Killed here?’ Alain looked around.
‘Can’t say. It’s too dark to see if there’s any signs of a struggle, but there’s no blood around apart from what’s on her.’
‘Coroner on his way?’
The officer nodded. Thankfully he wasn’t paying too much attention to the injury. That wasn’t his domain. The fewer people who saw that, the better.
‘Thanks.’ Alain’s not too subtle hint was taken, and the officer went back towards the gate.
Alain and Juliet moved away from the body.
‘What if it is?’ She didn’t have to elaborate.
He had no idea. Juliet had been a child at the time of the last vampire attack. In this very cemetery. He’d been a rookie assigned to a different arrondissement, and he’d heard talk, but nothing specific.
Thankfully it had been an isolated incident. The first after half a century, but it had sparked fear and outrage among the public. It was fresh enough in the public’s memory that fear of a recurrence still simmered two decades later, and the same outrage would be aimed at him, and his department, if it had indeed happened again.
‘Keeping it quiet will be the priority. We don’t want any unnecessary hysteria.’
‘I’m on the verge of a little hysteria myself.’
He wasn’t about to admit the same. His partner was an open book but Alain reciprocating that honesty wouldn’t achieve anything.
If news of a vampire attack got out, the demand for justice would be immediate, and vocal. He wasn’t sure he, or anyone, could deliver.
‘Let’s hope we don’t confirm our suspicions.’
***
The autopsy room echoed with disbelieving silence. The body lay naked, pale and stitched, the crusted punctures on her neck angry red against the milk-white of her skin.
‘I didn’t know for sure until I opened her up.’ The coroner wasn’t able to disguise the slight tremor in his voice, leaving Alain with no straws to grab. No nightmare to wake up from. ‘She’s drained of blood. She’s also had a child. There’s a Caesarean scar, quite recent. A few months.’
‘What will her death certificate say? What can we tell her family?’
‘Stab wounds to the neck.’
Alain’s eyes lingered on the twin wounds as the coroner brought the cloth up to cover the body. A bleak foreboding began to burrow into his gut. A feeling that would be a constant companion for the foreseeable future.
Silence followed them as they walked back into the office. He hoped Juliet’s mind was buzzing with plans for damage minimization if they had to go public. His own brain swam in foggy images of full moons and fangs and fear.
‘What details do we have?’
‘Her phone has text messages from tonight. To her mother, and a friend. And photos from a club.’ Juliet paused, and swallowed. ‘Eternel.’
Of course.
In itself, it meant nothing. Proved nothing. But it put them straight onto the he’d hoped to postpone for as long as possible. It wasn’t often that informing parents of the death of their child was the preferred option.
Alain glanced outside to where pink was beginning to streak the sky. He cursed that he couldn’t see beauty in the delicate tone. It only reminded him of diluted blood.
The burgeoning day at least brought some reprieve. Those he needed to speak to at Eternal would now be ensconced somewhere away from the light. Wherever that was.
‘Go home for a few hours, Juliet. There’s no need to distress the family at such an early hour. We can start this ball rolling soon enough.’
He’d go home himself, for all the good it would do. His body craved sleep, but he doubted his mind would oblige.
CHAPTER 4
The view of Pigalle from the rooftop garden never failed to entrance Katrine. The sun had almost finished its descent, streetlamps and windows beginning to light the night.
She leaned on the brick parapet. This view wouldn’t have changed much over the decades, or even centuries. Lisette and the others would have looked down on the same architecture, the same cobblestone streets since they’d taken up residence in this building. How fascinating to watch life pass by over so much time. To never age through revolutions and wars. How bizarre
They’d watched her grow up, yet they’d stayed the same. She changed. They never did. As soon as she’d been old enough to notice, to understand, they’d explained about her adoption. Children were so accepting, and she was loved and nurtured. She had no reason to feel anything other than safe.
The sun’s last rays disappeared, and darkn
ess ruled. Eternel was open for business and her work ‘day’ was beginning.
Katrine made her way downstairs, past the two floors of apartments to the salon.
‘Bonsoir, Lisette,’ she kissed the cool cheek.
‘Bonsoir, cherie. Did you enjoy the sunset?’
‘I did. You should go up and enjoy the garden for a while. We can take care of things here. It’s a beautiful evening.’
‘I might do that a bit later. If I find someone who takes my fancy.’
Lisette had a penchant for treating some of her most ardent, and good looking, admirers to some private time in the garden. Sometimes she treated herself to a drink of their blood. A risky practice which took immense self-control, but one which the more intense vampire groupies saw as a badge of honor.
‘Do be careful. Some of them can be a little crazy.’
The practice wasn’t illegal, but it would only take one person to freak out and go running to the media with an exaggerated story to bring fear and chaos back to their ordered world.
‘Centuries of habit die hard. Allow an old woman her fun.’
Katrine shook her head and smiled. In another five years she’d be the same age as Lisette. The age Lisette would remain. How would it be, looking at the woman who was the only mother she knew when she herself looked decades older? Perhaps she would have separated herself from this life by then.
A strident buzz broke Katrine from her thoughts. The curious and fascinated were clamoring at the door.
But when she released the deadbolts and swung back the heavy timber door, it was a slightly disheveled, vague Alain Delon look alike in a not very stylish blue suit, brandishing some sort of ID.
‘Inspector Alain Donet and Sgt Juliette Broussard of the 18th arondissment.’ He pocketed the ID. ‘Could I speak to the proprietor please.’
Surprised and confused, Katrine simply stood aside and let them in. She closed and locked the door behind them again. They might have to delay opening.
She hurried in front, leading them into the salon. ‘If you’d wait here, I’ll find Lisette.’
The Inspector and his offsider remained standing, surveying their surroundings. What was all this about? Lisette kept everything absolutely legal. The club was her life. The life of all the women. They wouldn’t do anything to risk that security in any way.
Her knock on the office door was answered and she went in. Lisette was applying blood red lipstick in an art deco mirror. ‘Is there a problem?’ No one interrupted her here unless something was wrong.
‘I don’t know. The police are here.’
Lisette closed her lipstick, swept her hand over her glossy black hair and smiled at Katrine. ‘Then we’d better see what they want.’
Lisette’s calm reassured a Katrine a little as she showed the police into the office. Lisette held out her hand to the inspector.
‘Lisette Mercier. Welcome to Eternel.’
Katrine noticed the Inspector’s slight hesitation in taking Lisette’s hand as he introduced himself. Old fears or prejudices died hard?
‘What can we do for you Inspector?’
She didn’t offer them a seat and Katrine heard a coolness in her voice that she never used for patrons.
The Inspector seemed hesitant. Not the forthright confidence she would have expected.
‘There’s been a murder.’ He paused, and visibly swallowed. ‘Committed by a vampire.’
Katrine’s heart thumped. Did he suspect Lisette? Or one of the others? Ridiculous.
‘And how does that concern us? Just because we’re vampires, we’re automatically suspects?’
That was the only conclusion Katrine could come to as well.
‘Not specifically, but the victim was here last night.’
Ahh, there it was. The authority that should go with the situation. And that strong jaw and assertive voice. He straightened his shoulders. His very broad shoulders.
‘We’ll need to speak to all your … all of you.’
She didn’t blame him for not knowing what to call them. And then realization hit. She would also be under suspicion? Did she declare her humanness and clear herself of involvement?
‘You’re going to take us all in for questioning?’ Lisette’s tone had softened slightly. ‘In handcuffs?’ She half-smiled. ‘We’re not that sort of a club.’
Katrine suppressed her own smile. Lisette was back to her seductive self.
Not even the hint of a smile teased the corners of the Inspector’s mouth. All business. Pity. The full curve of his lips would be even more attractive if he’d smile.
‘No need for that. If we can just speak to everyone, one at a time. We can start with you.’
‘Of course, Inspector.’ Lisette slid elegantly into an armchair and crossed her legs. ‘Katrine, cherie. Can you let the others know what’s going on, and reassure them that there’s nothing to be worried about.’
But there was something to be worried about, otherwise why were they here?
Katrine made her way to the salon to open the club and tell the others as much as she knew.
By now a predictable group of expectant patrons clustered at the door as Katrine unbolted and swung it open. Some greeted her by name and made their way to their usual tables. Others smiled hesitantly, as if expecting her to flash her fangs as they passed. If she had any.
She mingled, unable to settle into conversation with anyone. Too soon Lisette was back, and it was Katrine’s turn to speak to the Inspector.
The office door was open, and he now sat behind Lisette’s desk, his offsider on the sofa, notebook on her lap.
‘Come in, Ms Fournier.’
She almost stopped to look behind her. It took a moment to remember that was her name. They only used first names at the club, but she was Katrine Louise Fournier. Hearing it spoken was like hearing about someone else. A reminder of who she was.
‘Have a seat.’ He indicated the leather armchair.
They sat in silence for a few moments, his blue-grey eyes watching her. Sizing her up. This was his show to run, he could break the silence.
‘Lisette tells me you weren’t here for the whole of last night?’
Katrine’s stomach lurched, her instinct to curse Lisette for telling.
‘That’s right. I went out after my performance.’ She had nothing to hide. At least, not about her movements.
The sound of the Sergeant’s scribbling in her notebook unsettled Katrine. If she just answered the questions, she’d be fine.
‘Can anyone verify that?’ He certainly didn’t mince words. Katrine wondered if he was as cut and dried in everyday life. Did they both take on a different persona to do their jobs?
‘The owner, Jean-Pierre. He knows me well.’
‘What time was this?’
‘I don’t know exactly. After midnight.’
‘So you were back before daylight.’ A statement based on his knowledge of vampires.
The sun hadn’t completely risen by the time she’d returned, so she wouldn’t be lying. ‘Yes.’
Anxiety crawled through Katrine’s stomach. Being selective about the number of people she interacted with outside of Eternel gave her control of who knew her and what they knew. Being questioned, officially questioned, was like blundering around in a lightless room.
She’d had her secret for so long, it was something she clung to instinctively, fearing if her identity was exposed, Lisette and the club might lose credibility
‘Did you happen to pass the Montparnasse cemetery while you were out?’
Katrine shook her head. ‘I didn’t have enough time to venture that far. It’s not exactly an enticing place at night. Is that where the murder happened?’
‘Did anyone see you return here?’
She shook her head again, anxiety escalating as she gripped the armrests of the chair.
‘Before you went out, did you notice this woman?’
The inspector held out a driver’s license with a small image of a non-desc
ript young blonde. ‘Apparently she was here with a small group of friends. A group of women.’
Katrine shook her head. ‘I talked to quite a few people, but not a group of women. Is that the victim?’
‘Yes,’ the Sergeant confirmed.
She wasn’t foolish enough to believe she was safe from suspicion.
She almost blurted out ‘I’m not a vampire’. What harm was there in revealing the truth? Those who mattered already knew. It wasn’t like it would be frontpage news. Who would care?
It would clear her of suspicion, but she would feel she was betraying the credibility of Eternel. Of Lisette. She’d be all but saying “I’m not one of them.” Distancing herself from those who’d raised and cared for her. But she was one of them, in all the ways that counted.
‘So we are your first point of suspicion?’
‘She was here last night, and your venue is the closest to the cemetery, but we will be questioning everyone.’
Everyone was the six other enclaves scattered around Paris and its outskirts. Two other clubs similar to Eternal, the others just unobtrusive groups who didn’t draw attention to themselves.
A vampire attack was a rare phenomenon. As far as Katrine knew, her mother would have been the last victim. Having a specific suspect group obviously put a lot of focus on places like Eternel.
‘If you have nothing else to add, Mlle Fournier, can you please ask,’ he consulted a list at his elbow, ‘Isabelle to come and speak to us.’
He might have dismissed her from questioning, but he held eye contact as she stood up.
She nodded and left the room.
After finding Isabelle, she mingled with the clients, but her thoughts were distracted. The club was filled to capacity, as always, but what would it be like if news of this murder got out? The placid fascination people had for vampires would surely turn to fear, and with fear so often came violence.
It didn’t bear thinking about. The women would survive if the club had to close, but their safety could be jeopardized. It had taken decades for vampires to be accepted as peaceful, responsible members of society but Katrine was sure it would only take one sensational headline to undo that trust.
