Graves of Retribution

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by Lina Gardiner


  He reached into his shirt pocket. Darn it. He’d forgotten his cell phone. There’d be no using a GPS to find his way back.

  He rounded a corner, paused, and looked back the way he’d just come. He wasn’t even sure which direction to go. He had no sense of direction here, something he was usually good at figuring out.

  His hackles went up. Someone was watching him again, but this time it felt different. More sinister.

  “Father Vandermire, is that you?” A man stepped out of the shadows and showed his teeth to him.

  His canines were too long for comfort. Regent’s mouth went dry. He had nothing with him for protection. Not a cross. Not a stake. What had he been thinking?

  “How do you know who I am?” he asked, keeping his voice even.

  “Everyone knows about you, Father. You’re famous here in Paris. You took down the demons, or at least, you facilitated the takedown, by finding the information needed by your vampire sister and her friend.”

  Regent cleared his throat. He stood his ground. It wouldn’t do to run away at this point.

  How had this vampire gotten that information? They hadn’t revealed it to anyone. Not even Veronique LaFontaine.

  “Why are you here?” he asked. The vampire was medium height and had leathery skin that had an almost greyish hue. He was old. And he was smart. There’d be no outwitting this creature.

  “I thought I’d take a stroll, nothing else,” Regent answered.

  The vampire frowned. “Why are you in Paris?”

  Regent shrugged. “I’ve been given an assignment here. It’s my last month. After this, I go back to New York.” I hope—if you don’t kill me first.

  The vampire moved closer, so close Regent nearly gagged at the monster’s fetid breath. Normally, he didn’t automatically consider a vampire a monster, but he didn’t know what else to call this creature.

  He reluctantly put a hand up to his nose. That seemed to incense the vampire further, and he growled low in his diaphragm, increasing the foulness in the air.

  “What’s going on here?” a female voice said. Regent instantly re­cog­nized Morana’s voice and his wobbly legs managed to move back­ward, toward her.

  “You should mind your business, Longina,” the vampire said, en­hancing his voice until it echoed off the walls around them. He had abilities, this vamp.

  She stepped up beside Regent and glanced at him. “You okay, brother?”

  Regent nodded quickly. “I am now.”

  “Brother? You’re saying this priest is your brother?” The vampire laughed. “Don’t insult my intelligence, bitch.”

  “What intelligence? This is my brother, and I’d advise you to leave him alone.”

  “Or what? You’ll kick my ass?”

  Regent wondered why this conversation was in English. Was it so he’d understand? Weird.

  “I’ll do more than that, Magpie, I’ll wipe you off the planet,” Morana said.

  The vampire roared, and this time Regent felt it in his bones. “Uh, that might not have been the best choice of words,” he said in a low voice meant only for Morana.

  “Not a good choice at all. You dare to call me Magpie! You, who strive to be one of us.”

  “That doesn’t mean I’ll let one of you harm my brother, now does it? We all have our limits and,” she said, clearing her throat, “our crosses to bear.”

  “Time for you to die, Longina. You’ve been a menace for too long.”

  “Regent, go home.”

  “I can’t,” he muttered. “I’m lost.”

  Morana made an irritated sound and pointed. “It’s that way. Go quickly, or you might end up in trouble.”

  “Are you sure . . . ?”

  She glared at him for a second before returning her attention to the approaching vampire. “Go!”

  He ran down the street in the direction that Morana pointed. He heard the battle going on behind him, and his insides felt torn apart. Had he just signed his own sister’s death sentence? She’d saved him. Jess would have to trust her after this.

  That is, if Morana survived.

  Chapter Four

  AN HOUR BEFORE dawn, Jess spotted Regent sitting on the cement steps leading up to her building.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked.

  Her brother looked more ragged than she’d ever seen him.

  “I might have caused Morana’s death tonight,” he practically sobbed. Then he blurted out the whole story.

  Britt gave Jess space to deal with her distraught brother, but stood next to the stairs with his arm resting on the wrought-iron handrail and his hand fisted.

  Jess sat and slid closer to Regent before taking his hand in hers. She glanced at Britt, and they shared a worried look. “I agree it sounds bad, but Morana is as tough as they come. Do you really think she’d take on that brute if she didn’t think she’d win? She’s smarter than that.”

  “I don’t know. The vampire was very old and ferocious. Who knows what might have happened to her?”

  “Why didn’t you call us on your cell?” Britt asked, softly, obviously trying not to add to Regent’s guilt.

  “I left it at home. My mind was elsewhere. I wasn’t thinking when I went out.”

  Jess bit back the obvious question—what had he been thinking, going out alone on a Saturday night with no phone and nothing to protect himself? He’d never have done that in New York City, so why had he done it here?

  “Don’t even bother to say it,” Regent said. “I’ve been trying to rationalize some of the odd things that have happened to me since I got to Paris.” His hands were shaking, and Jess wanted to wrap her arm around his shoulders to try to comfort him, but Regent needed to gather his own strength and his dignity.

  Britt looked up at their building. “Why didn’t you go inside? You have a key, don’t you?”

  Jess frowned. “Let me guess, you left it at home too?”

  “Well, I intended to eventually stop in to see Sampson for a game of chess, but it was a lovely evening, and I was deep in thought and wan­dering a little too aimlessly. I guess I got lost.”

  “How’d you find your way back?” Britt asked gently.

  “It’s embarrassing to admit, but Morana told me which way to go when she ordered me to run. Then the battle started. I heard the fight going on for more than a block.” He shuddered and rubbed a shaky hand over his eyes.

  Britt got out his cell phone and dialed. It rang three times before Morana answered.

  “This is Britt,” he said.

  “Well, well. How are you?” she said in a tone that suggested that she’d been hoping he’d call her.

  “Regent is here with us,” he said brusquely. “He was afraid he’d been the cause of your death.”

  Morana laughed. “As if. Tell my brother I made that vampire pay for threatening him.”

  “Okay,” Britt said.

  Jess clenched her teeth the whole time. She heard both sides of the conversation, and she didn’t like the way Morana talked to Britt, as if she wanted him to be her boy-toy.

  He mumbled a quick goodbye and clicked off, looking as if he’d just tasted something foul. And who could blame him?

  Morana might be irritating, but she had saved Regent’s life.

  “She’s okay,” Britt said.

  “How did she manage to be there, just at the right time to save Regent?” Jess asked, more to herself than anyone else.

  “I had the feeling I was being followed again tonight,” Regent said. “Do you think it’s been Morana all along?”

  “Again? How long have you had that feeling?” she asked.

  “A few weeks now, but I thought it was just my imagination. You know, still nervous about the demon thing, maybe?”

  �
�Not likely,” Jess said. “You’re not afraid of anything, Reej. That said, I can’t imagine why Morana would follow you.”

  “Me either.” He sighed and planted his face in his hands, then rubbed his fingers across his eyelids. “But I’m glad she was around tonight. No way would I have had a chance against that vampire. I didn’t even have a weapon.”

  Jess stood and pulled him to his feet. “It’s nearly dawn. We’re going to walk you home, unless you want to stay here?”

  He shook his head vigorously. “No, thanks. I’m going home. I think I’ll call in sick tomorrow.”

  “You have church duties tomorrow?” Britt asked.

  “Not in the way you mean, son. Maybe they think I’m too old for my own parish.”

  “But you’re middle-aged now. That can’t be it, surely,” Jess said.

  “Who knows? This is my third month here, Jess. I had a reason to be here when the demons were attacking, but lately all they’re doing is sending me from one parish to the next, visiting the local priests who don’t speak much English. It’s wasting my time and theirs. If I didn’t know better, I’d say they’re trying to keep me from researching the book.”

  Jess’s watch vibrated on her wrist indicating that sunrise was imminent. His statement had shaken her, though. She wasn’t sure what to think of it.

  Regent started walking. “I can make it home on my own, you two. You shouldn’t risk it, dear.”

  “That’s what you think. We’re taking you home,” Jess said.

  “Then get a move on, or you’ll be toast before you get back here.” Regent picked up his pace and headed in the wrong direction.

  Jess frowned and caught Britt’s worried look. “It’s this way, Reej,” she said gently.

  “Oh right,” he looked disconcerted, but tried to cover it up. “I knew that.”

  When Jess followed Regent into his apartment, Britt waited outside, crossing the street and leaning against a tree. From here, he could see Jess and Regent in his second-story living room window. She had her hand on her brother’s face and was obviously questioning him. She was really worried and for good reason.

  When he heard a branch crack, he scanned the narrowly treed area to his left. A person casually moved out from the shadows and slipped away, down the sidewalk. Had the person been watching Regent and Jess, too? Or had it merely been someone out for a smoke break?

  He sniffed the air. The faint scent of cigarette smoke reached him. He was still wondering about it when Jess walked over to him.

  “He’s settled,” she said.

  “Good to hear. Do you think Sampson should check in on him?”

  “That’s probably a good idea,” she said.

  Britt checked his watch. “We’re cutting it close tonight, babe.” He thought about places Jess could hole up in if they didn’t make it back on time.

  “Yeah, let’s go.”

  They hurried home and made it inside before dawn. Britt let out a sigh of relief. After Jess had been so badly burned on the rooftop, they’d agreed to be more aware of the time.

  “Shall I ask Sampson to check in on Regent while you’re in stasis?” Britt asked, trying not to sound as concerned as he felt. Whatever was going on with the Jess’s brother, it wasn’t normal.

  It wasn’t like Regent to get lost, especially since he’d been back and forth between their building and his apartment dozens of times. Some­thing was wrong with him.

  “Yes, please,” Jess said. “I’d also like to know why Morana was tailing him. What is she up to?”

  Her eyes were a little too shiny, causing Britt’s gut to twist. He hated to see her worried like this. And he was concerned about Morana’s actions as well. Jess’s sister wasn’t the type to watch out for a human—any human, brother included.

  Britt checked his watch as soon as Jess went into stasis. He’d been waiting to get back to the Underground Killer’s crime scene, even though he hated being anywhere near the human skeletal remains. There was something else bugging him down there.

  He knew there’d be a cop on guard at the scene, but since Britt had been brought in to consult, he’d be considered part of the investigative team. He had no doubt they’d let him in.

  Stopping at the gearing-up station outside the crime scene, he climbed into his suit and booties and made his way down the tunnel, trying to ignore the vacant staring eyes of the skulls lining the walls. He swiped at his already moist forehead, while cold chill bumps raised on his arms.

  “Bonsoir,” he said to the officer guarding the crime scene.

  “Good evening, Lieutenant Brittain,” the officer said in heavily accented English. They all knew him now. At least, the cops on the vampire hunting team did.

  “I just want to do another ground check. I know it’s probably useless, but it’s what I do. I come back and rethink and recheck over and over.”

  Jacques nodded several times. “Bien sur. I ‘ope you find something.”

  “Me too,” Britt said, saluting the officer and turning on his L.E.D. flashlight. He blinked against the light in the near-pitch darkness.

  After giving himself time to adjust to the low lighting, he surveyed the taped-out crime scene on the floor of the tunnel. He expected the coppery scent that still lingered here and had braced against it by popping a strong mint into his mouth.

  That weird feeling he’d experienced earlier was stronger now that he was back.

  Using an off-the-cuff grid method, he covered every inch of the ground ahead. Wait! What was that? Something had glinted in the distance. Holy hell!

  Even though he wanted to plow his way down the tunnel to find out what had reflected his light, he remained conscious of contaminating the crime scene. That said, he moved carefully, checking every inch of dirt on his way.

  He finally reached the location, and there, on the ground was a foil gum wrapper. This could not be a coincidence! He pulled an evidence bag from the pocket of his forensic suit and donned gloves to pick up the wrapper and drop it into the bag.

  His heart rate had tripled. Could this be the lead they needed? Two crime scenes with foil gum wrappers. Had the officers found wrappers at the other scenes?

  He’d started to turn away when his light illuminated a skull on the wall, its mandible still connected, that seemed to be mocking him. But above the skull’s head he spotted a drawing. Sometimes people des­ecrated these disambiguated remnants of the dead with graffiti, but this time Britt’s blood slowed. On the stone wall in front of him was the carving of a bird.

  A crow, a raven?

  He instantly yanked his cell from his pocket and dialed Veronique.

  Her phone rang several times before she answered. “Oui?”

  “Get down here,” he said, without considering that she had no idea where he was, or that he hadn’t identified himself.

  “Britt? Is that you?” She sounded as if she’d been asleep.

  “Yeah, sorry to wake you, but you need to get down to the crime scene. I’ve found something you’ll want to see.”

  The next thing he knew the phone went dead. She’d hung up.

  He grinned. She’d be here in minutes.

  He searched more while he waited, looked for footprints, anything that might give them a clue as to the owner of the gum wrappers.

  How did the killer enter the tunnel? From LaCave’s intersecting tunnels, or from deeper into the labyrinth, which consisted of miles and miles of underground routes?

  With that in mind, he went deeper into the underground system, keeping an eye on his position so he didn’t get lost. Finally, he’d decided to go back.

  He’d just reached the crime scene again when he heard Veronique speaking to Jacques.

  She spotted him, and he nodded to her.

  Even though her hair was under the white hood,
it was sticking up at weird angles under the toss-away fabric. She reminded him of a teddy bear who’d been poorly stuffed.

  “What did you find?” she asked without preamble. He didn’t blame her. He’d been pretty excited when he’d phoned her and hadn’t given her much info.

  He pulled the baggy from his pocket and handed it to her. She held up the bag and looked at it in the light of her flashlight.

  “Well, what do you know.”

  She continued to stare at the evidence while Britt tried to get that teddy bear image out of his head.

  “Good job, Britt. This could be very important. How’d we miss it earlier?”

  “This time, it was outside our crime-scene periphery. Quite a bit further down the tunnel than we’d previously checked.”

  “Near LaCave?”

  “No, deeper into the tunnels in the opposite direction.”

  “Show me where you found it. You marked the spot, yes?”

  Of course he did. “Yes.”

  He led her to where he’d laid a dime on the ground to mark the spot. “That’s not all,” he said, shining the flashlight up at the wall, lighting the bird’s black silhouette.

  “Mon Dieu!”

  Her reaction took him by surprise. “You know what this means, don’t you?”

  She averted her gaze and looked at the bird again. “I have an idea, but I can’t talk to you about it right now.”

  “What the hell! I’ve been working on these killings with you for over two months. This is important.” And, he needed to know if it was the same blackbird that had turned up in a painting at the Louvre, and in Regent’s book.

  She pressed her lips tight and shook her head. “I can’t. Not now.”

  A string of curses were on the tip of his tongue, but he managed to control himself. “Okay. I can’t force you. But at least you can fill me in on the forensics of the gum wrappers, I hope? Otherwise, there’s not much more reason for me to continue to work with you.”

  She reached out and touched his arm. “Britt, please bear with me. You found the second gum wrapper. You found the silhouette of the bird. We need you on these cases. You’ve proven yourself invaluable.”

 

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