And, if for some reason Morana wasn’t their sister, well—poor Regent, his hopes would be broken.
And it wasn’t like she’d be much help to him in the emotional arena. She turned her head and spotted the ancient book that Regent had found. It was sitting out in the open, for heaven’s sake!
Her brother, the “priest,” had actually more or less stolen the ancient book. Even though he believed he’d been led to it, it was still a hot commodity. “I don’t think you should leave that out,” she said, pointing at the book on the coffee table.
Regent strode over and slid the book into a drawer just in time. Without knocking, Morana sashayed in as if she owned the place.
“Why was the door wide open?” she asked. “It’s not exactly safe in this neighborhood, you know.”
No one but Britt had seen her since the demon attack on Paris, although she had called Regent on the phone to let him know she was okay shortly after she and Britt—well, mostly Britt—had saved the city.
“It’s been so long since we’ve seen you, we thought you might be . . .”
“Dead?” she said, dramatically fluffing her freshly short-cut hair currently fringed with purple and pink tips. Her fingernails were almost an exact match to the tips of her hair. “If that’s what you thought, then you were right—I am dead. But I think you knew that.”
If that was an attempt at humor, Morana sucked at it. Jess exhaled her irritation and glanced at her own squared-off fingernails. “As Regent always reminds me, we might be dead for all intents and purposes, but we can die permanently if we’re not careful.”
Morana’s gaze narrowed on Jess in irritation.
Regent’s obvious disappointment at Jess’s snarky comment showed in the way he rushed forward to grab Morana’s hand and drew her into the living room.
Worse, he’d grabbed a dangerous vampire by the hand—a risky move. Inviting her into his life was an even riskier move, as far as Jess was concerned, but her brother’s kindness extended to every person he met.
“I’m so glad you’re here, Morana,” he said, oblivious to any danger he might be in with the Parisian vampire who was unused to having a human doting over her, as far as they knew.
To Jess’s surprise, Morana let him squeeze her hand before slowly extracting it from his grasp.
That was pretty amazing for someone like Morana. Hell, she was a full-fledged frigging vampire. She didn’t have a partial soul like Jess. She hadn’t had a brother who’d prayed for her and managed to eke out a tiny shred of her humanity, and then worked at keeping it intact her whole life.
There was no saying how Regent would take the news if Sampson’s findings turned out to be negative. Because right now, her brother seemed to have an awful lot of hope pinned on the fact that this vampire could be their long-lost sibling.
“Tonight is the night for the VNA results, isn’t it?” Morana asked, casually moving away from Regent and drumming her fingers on arms she’d now crossed over her chest.
Wait a minute! That was what Jess did when she was irked. Had Morana done her homework? Or was it a genetic trait?
Regent looked at his watch for about the fifth time. “Sampson said he’d be a little late, but it’s nearly ten thirty.”
Jess perched on the edge of the sofa. “That’s not like Sampson,” she said. “It’s also strange that he didn’t contact me first and give me the data.”
“Don’t blame him. I asked him not to,” Regent said.
“Why?” Jess stiffened.
“Honey, I wanted us all to get the good news at the same time.”
“How’d you know I’d be here?” Morana asked in a suspicious voice.
For some reason, that didn’t bother Regent. He smiled at her with the same brotherly love he shared with Jess. “I just knew.”
Damn it. Jess’s insides plummeted. If Morana turned out to be a fake, Regent would be heartbroken.
Jess, on the other hand, would be far from it. If they were actually related, things would get a helluva lot more complicated. For one thing, she’d have to accept Morana as a sister, for Regent’s sake.
Seconds later, they heard footsteps on the stairs outside Regent’s door. It had barely opened when Regent blurted out, “What’s the news?”
Sampson patted the all-important blue dossier under his left arm. Before he said a word, he studied Morana clinically then searched out Jess for the go-ahead to share his findings.
She nodded.
“Maybe we should all have a seat first,” he said, going into the living room and taking his favorite chair next to his laptop, which always sat on the coffee table.
Regent and Morana sat. No one spoke.
Sampson opened the folder and laid it open on the table. Morana leaned forward to read it, but that didn’t bother Jess, since Morana would never figure out the VNA chart without Sampson’s expertise.
“Well?” Regent asked, his hands clasped in front of him. “Don’t keep us waiting.”
It wasn’t like Sampson to draw anything out, especially scientific information. But then, as Regent’s best friend, he’d be aware of the consequences this information would have on their tight-knit little family.
“Jess,”—he looked directly at her—”you and Morana are definitely twins.”
In a tense voice, Morana said, “Are you sure?”
“I’m ninety-nine point nine, nine, nine percent sure,” he said. “I could almost mistake your VNA for Jess’s.”
Great. Just great. Jess slumped back into her chair.
Even though she had tried to brace herself for this possibility, somewhere in the back of her mind, she’d believed Morana to be a fake. She still wanted to believe it.
Meanwhile, Regent jumped to his feet and was beaming from ear to ear.
Morana looked just as disconcerted as Jess.
“Doesn’t anyone think the odds of both of us being vampires is pretty frigging astronomical? Not to mention the fact that we’re vampires of around the same age. The numbers are too high to even imagine.” Jess stared at Morana. “How old are you?”
“Twenty-eight-ish, as far as my physical body is concerned, but much older than that obviously.”
Jess’s gut clenched.
“Okay, that’s definitely an odd coincidence,” Sampson said. “Being a vampire is one thing, but being vamped at the same age is really hard to believe.”
Morana’s mouth thinned perceptibly while Regent leaned back as if he couldn’t be happier. He obviously didn’t care about the odds.
“I wasn’t turned at that age. I was much younger,” Morana said. “My father helped me to age with his own concoction of medicines.”
Jess’s back instantly tightened so hard, it almost hurt. She shared a glance with Sampson, who’d shoved his glasses onto his bald head while he gaped at Morana.
“How’d he do that?” Jess asked. They all knew how incredibly difficult it was to age a baby infected with VNA. “Is he a doctor?”
Morana suddenly looked nervous and a little irritated that she’d shared too much information with them. She sneered angrily. “You think because your doctor says we’re twins that I should share every private second of my life with you?” she said. Her eyes had turned black, and her eyeteeth had grown.
Regent still beamed. He wasn’t the least bit concerned about Morana’s reaction to the latest news. Didn’t he realize what this meant? It was bad enough to have one vampire in the family, but now he had two! Worse, Morana hadn’t grown up loving him. That meant she’d be dangerous. Jess didn’t think for one minute that Regent would be safe with Morana if she was provoked.
Suddenly, Jess actually felt pity for Morana. She understood the other woman’s anger and resentment; after all, Jess got the brother—the most amazing brother any girl could have.
Morana had an adoptive father who had to know she was a vampire, especially if she’d been a vampire at a younger age. The fact that he was still alive brought up another series of questions. Was her fath
er a vampire, too? He had to be very old—but vampires couldn’t sire children, at least, not as far as she knew.
“What will your father think about this?” she asked Morana.
“He probably won’t believe it.” Morana barely managed to keep the acid from burning through her words. “I’ll need a copy of the VNA report to show him,” she said.
“He probably won’t be able to read it,” Sampson said, picking up an extra sheet of paper and handing it to her. “But I made copies, just in case.”
“He can read it. He’s somewhat of a scientist himself,” she said, then looked irritated at herself for sharing another tidbit of information about her adoptive father, Sinclair Longina.
“Really? What type of scientist?” Sampson asked.
“His specialty is chemistry, not that it’s any of your business,” she said in a clipped voice.
This situation was impossible to believe . . . yet here they were. Shouldn’t they have some sort of connection? Especially since they were obviously identical twins. “I’d like to meet your father,” Jess said.
Morana’s mouth thinned. “Why?”
“Well, since we’re sisters, it’d be nice to meet the man who raised you,” she said, nearly choking on the word nice. She had no real desire to meet the man, but there was something off about this situation. And until she figured it out, no way would she allow Regent to get overly comfortable with Morana.
Regent, meanwhile, was obviously ecstatic over the news. He had enough love to go around, and honestly, Jess wouldn’t have minded sharing him with a sister. But why’d she have to be a vampire? Morana represented another person who would be a burden to him, and he’d had enough encumbrances—number one being keeping Jess from being drawn into the depths of her own evil.
“I’ll ask if Sinclair wants to meet you,” Morana said in a tight voice.
“Maybe he knows more about the adoption than we do,” Regent said, looking excited at the prospect of learning more.
He obviously hadn’t considered that Morana’s father shouldn’t be alive—if he was human.
“I vaguely remember being on an ocean liner when I was very young, but I always thought the ship had been in my imagination until I learned we were all born in Rome,” Regent said.
Jess gaped at him. Had he told her that before? She’d lost a lot of her childhood memories after being vamped. And, if Regent was seventy-three on the inside, how fricking old would Morana’s father have to be?
“How old is your father?” she asked.
Morana’s eyes narrowed, and for a minute, Jess thought she wouldn’t answer.
“He comes from a line of people who stay healthy well into their hundredth year,” she said, not mentioning his age. Her irises were now bordering on full-on black. “I have to warn you, he might not agree to meet you. He doesn’t often welcome visitors.”
“But this is a momentous occasion. I’m sure he’ll want to meet us,” Regent said.
Jess fiddled with her watch strap in an attempt not to let her own vampirism show itself.
“Even if he agrees, it can’t happen anytime soon,” Morana said. “I work every night this week and next.” She checked her watch. “In fact, I’ll be late if I don’t go right now.”
When she stood, Regent jumped to his feet. Holy crap, surely he wouldn’t try to hug her?
“Welcome to the family, Morana, dear. I’m so glad we bumped into each other, and I hope we can make up for lost time.” He reached out but didn’t touch her when she stepped away from him.
Her expression didn’t change, not that Jess had expected it to. She was a vampire damned to hell, after all.
Morana left without another word.
Regent didn’t seem to mind her lack of manners. Jess’s stomach tightened when she realized why. Her brother knew how to deal with emotionless vampires—he’d had plenty of practice.
Chapter Three
MORANA STEPPED outside of Regent’s apartment and let out a scream of anger. Two people passing on the opposite side of the street stopped and looked startled. She considered making them sorry for even looking at her, but Jess stepped outside the building behind her, so she turned and made her way down the sidewalk before she ended up having to talk to her sister.
She glanced back once to see if Jess had followed her but was relieved to see she was alone. She yanked out her cell phone and dialed Sinclair.
“Oui?” he said in that eager tone he always had when she contacted him.
“They’re saying I am related to this vampire and her brother. How is that possible?”
She continued walking, avoiding people wherever necessary.
Sinclair sighed on the other end. She remembered him mentioning the brother before she had. He knew she had a brother and sister. Why the secrecy?
“Why didn’t you tell me about them! What do you know?” Her voice took on a menacing tone that he wouldn’t like.
“You are my daughter. What difference did it make? Do you think the people in America who adopted your brother and sister would have been able to handle a baby vampire, as well? No, I was the only one who could help you, so I kept that news to myself.”
“Baby vampire? I thought I became a vampire later?” She frowned. What the hell? This was news to her.
“What difference does it make?” he said stiffly and hung up the phone.
Morana stared at her phone as if it was something she’d never seen before. He’d actually hung up on her. He’d never done that before. Ever.
BRITT’S FEET ALWAYS felt mired in thickening cement when he entered the catacombs. Besides having a phobia of human bones, the grinning skulls and disarticulated skeletons piled uniformly from ceiling to floor made the murder scene even more grisly. Even for cops who didn’t have a phobia, he’d imagine.
He cursed under his breath as he forced himself to move deeper into the darkness. He didn’t need to shine his tiny flashlight on the walls to know he was surrounded by things he usually only saw in his nightmares.
Forking off from the route normally used by cataphiles on their way to the club known as LaCave, he wondered how often the serial killer picked his victims from the shadows of this alternate tunnel where the bodies had been left.
Nearing the newest crime scene, he announced himself to the cops on guard, showed his identification card, then donned a forensic suit before finding the body exactly where he expected it to be—in the same place as last time.
As if the backdrop wasn’t gruesome enough, the body had been methodically and viciously sliced open, leaving the poor girl’s untouched face frozen in a silent scream.
Veronique stood near the body, staring at the victim as if new information could come from the intensity of her will. According to the cop he’d met at the cave opening, she’d been here for an hour already.
“Have you found anything?” he asked.
She inhaled deeply and ran a hand through her unruly hair. “I really thought the killings had stopped when you managed to eradicate the demons attacking the city. Either the demons are back, or they weren’t our killers to start with.”
Britt dragged his teeth over his lower lip. He had believed the same thing, but in retrospect, it had been too good to be true. Why had the killer stopped after the demon attacks? Up until then, it had appeared as if the timeline was ramping up. Killings had been happening more often—then they stopped. Until now.
“The demons aren’t back,” Britt said. “There’s been no evidence of shadows or attacks on citizens, nor have we seen anything on our nightly surveillance the last couple of weeks. Unfortunately, that sends us back to square one—we have an unknown perp.”
“Maybe if you explained how you managed to eradicate the demons, it might give me more insight,” Veronique said, kneeling next to the corpse and pretending to be only faintly interested in his answer.
He didn’t respond. She knew he wouldn’t tell her anything more, but she still looked disappointed by his silence as she pushed herself
up off the cave floor to stand again. “Why do they do it?”
Britt frowned. “Who? Killers—plural?” Did she think there was more than one killer?
“No. Our victims. They know they fit the profile targeted by a serial killer, surely. It’s been in the papers. Yet, they keep coming here. What’s wrong with them? They might as well wear a sign, saying take me next.”
Britt had already considered that. “I think they expect to be safe in numbers,” he said.
“If that’s true, how does the killer get them alone?”
Britt narrowed his gaze on the tunnel floor. “That’s a very good question. One we need to find the answer to.”
“I’d also like an answer on how you stopped the demons.” She almost sounded angry this time.
“I would tell you if I could,” he said. “Can’t it be enough that we were able to stop them?” The fact that he didn’t know how to control his angelic abilities tangled him in knots.
“I’m not promising that I won’t try to find out,” she said, then started whistling under her breath, a tune he’d noticed that she often hummed when she worked on a particularly difficult puzzle. “The city is grateful that you managed to do it, but I’m a cop. I will most likely find out, sooner or later.”
“There is always that possibility.” Britt hoped she’d drop the subject.
When the demons had erupted from the bones under the city, it had seemed he and Jess had met their worst adversaries. But then Regent had found an ancient prayer that Britt had used against them, along with his angelic abilities. It had taken all of their strength to send the demons back to hell, and he’d nearly lost Jess in the process. So far, the demons hadn’t returned; he was sure of that.
He looked at their newest victim, and his gut tightened. If the killer wasn’t a demon, then who did this?
Silenced by the Grave Page 3
