Graves of Retribution

by Lina Gardiner

“Of course not.” Gaston wrung his hands.

  “Then get me and Sampson out of here. At the very least, get help for Sampson.”

  “I’ll do what I can,” Gaston said. The man Regent had known as a friend, had been more timid than this person. Everything he’d known about Gaston had been an act.

  Gaston left quickly, locking Regent inside again.

  “That went well,” he said to himself, then flopped back on the horrible bed and closed his eyes. He needed to pray for Sampson again—pray as hard as he could.

  At one point, he felt as if he were being watched and glanced over at the door. He nearly jumped out of his skin when he saw a pair of eyes staring in at him.

  It might’ve been Boyer—he wasn’t sure—but his heart beat so hard, he had to grab his chest, trying to slow his breathing. Seconds ticked by, and the eyes remained, unblinking, watching him. The door remained closed, and after a few minutes, Regent allowed his attention to momentarily shift away. When his gaze returned, the person was gone.

  It’d been too long since he’d gotten any sleep, but it was unlikely he’d be able to sleep anyway. Would Sampson die before someone came to help him? Had his bleeding slowed? He’d been sliced across the leg by one of their initial kidnappers. It had looked deep, and blood had gushed from his wound.

  Sampson was a doctor. Could he stanch the bleeding on his own? Maybe not in a room with nothing but a pillow. There wasn’t even a stick of wood in the small cell—not a single item but stone walls and a stone bed. He didn’t understand why Gaston or Boyer hadn’t given Sampson first aid, or called for help.

  He paced for a while, trying to telepathically send Sampson a message of hope.

  Finally exhausted, Regent settled onto the slab and must have fallen into a broken sleep when he heard a noise in the hall. He saw a dim light shining out there through his tiny window. He crept to his feet and slipped closer to it.

  After seeing those eyes a while ago, he hated to admit that he was a little afraid to look.

  Chapter Twenty

  THE NEXT EVENING, Jess jumped out of bed and pulled on her leathers, barely waiting for her limbs to move. There’d be no waiting for anyone else to help her find her brother tonight. Her fear for her Regent’s safety had grown exponentially—he’d been gone too long, already.

  She nodded to Britt before having her sustenance, all while des­perately trying to hold back the panic she felt tonight. She pasted on her most stoic expression.

  “As soon as you’ve eaten, we’ll go,” he said in a serious tone. “I have some new ideas about where we can search.”

  Jess noted the shadows under his eyes. “Have you slept at all in the last forty-eight hours?”

  “Doesn’t matter, doll. It was time I used to our benefit. I’ve gone over countless scenarios in my head as to where Regent might be.” He closed his eyes, as if to prove the point. “When I shut my eyes, I can feel his presence in the city. I can feel both of them. They’re still okay, but they are afraid.”

  He’d just validated her own belief. Her heart leapt and she wanted to celebrate, but first she had to have Regent and Sampson physically in her presence. Because until they were home, they weren’t necessarily okay. “Hurry, then,” she said. “Let’s get going.”

  “Not until you slake your thirst, my love. We can’t have you getting crazed out there.”

  Her insides hardened.

  “No. Don’t look at me like that, doll. I’m not saying you’ll do anything horrible. But you might charge into a situation that would be better calculated first.”

  “You know me too well, sometimes,” Jess said. “And you’re abso­lutely right. Give me five minutes.”

  Britt paced in the living room while she drank.

  “No call from Vlad or Veronique?” she asked once she’d cleaned up and deposited the bags into the garbage.

  “Nothing from anyone, yet.”

  “It doesn’t matter. We’re going to find something tonight. We have to.”

  The intercom buzzed, and Jess answered it. “Hello?” She flicked on the camera and saw Gaston waiting outside. “Come in.” She pressed the buzzer for him to enter.

  Gaston looked worried when he stepped inside. It was brave of him really—she’d terrified him when she’d proven to him that vampires existed.

  “I’m surprised to see you here,” she said, impatiently. Still, she needed to find out what he knew about the kidnapping so she softened her exterior for him.

  “I’ve been trying to phone you. I left several messages,” he said.

  She turned and noted the light on the phone blinking. “We’ve been too caught up in our search to listen to phone messages.”

  “That’s why I showed up here tonight. You see, I was with Regent and Sampson when a vampire stole the painting. The only reason I wasn’t trapped inside the hallway was because I’d gone to ring the alarm. It was outside the security gates that closed automatically when the painting was taken from its housing.”

  “Why didn’t you tell the police they were kidnapped?” Jess asked sharply, noting that Gaston had paled and had taken a step backward. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to shout,” she said.

  He swallowed hard, his head bent far enough forward that she could see where his hair was thinning on the top.

  “I tried to report it. A gendarme pulled me aside and told me if I wanted to maintain my good health, I’d better keep my mouth shut.”

  Jess’s head swam at that comment. What the hell? Is that who had her brother? The dirty cops?

  Britt pressed a hand against the small of her back, grounding her. “Let’s sit for a minute, shall we?” Britt said. “Gaston, can I get you a drink? A glass of wine, a beer?”

  “Red wine would be nice,” Gaston said, still swallowing a lot. Jess obviously frightened him.

  And he should be frightened. He was slowing down her search. She tried to remain calm long enough to discover if he knew anything that could help them find Regent and Sampson.

  Britt got the drink and handed it to Gaston, then sat beside Jess.

  “The kidnapping couldn’t have been premeditated, because they’d have had no idea Regent, Sampson, and I were going to look at the painting. We caught the vampire in the act of stealing it,” Gaston said.

  They already knew that! She bit her lip. “And they took the opportunity to frame Regent and Sampson,” Jess said. “But why kidnap them?”

  “I think I might have an idea about that, but you’re not going to like it,” Gaston said. “It looks like they want your brother and Sampson out of the way. Maybe it’s because they were key in getting rid of the demons. Without their expertise, the demons would have succeeded.”

  More information they already knew. She narrowed her eyes on the man. What was he doing? Trying to slow them down? “Maybe it was just opportunity? They had the chance to get Regent and Sampson and they took it?”

  Gaston sipped his drink. “I want to help you,” he said. “I’m not going to let them threaten me into silence.”

  “I don’t think you have to worry,” she said cynically. “Not unless you know where Regent is?”

  Gaston actually looked shocked at her comment, then seemed to gather himself again. “Then I can do nothing more to help?”

  “You can do one thing,” she said. “Describe the cop who threat­ened you. At least that way, we’ll have an idea who the traitor is.”

  He described the man.

  “It sounds like Bernard,” she said jumping to her feet. “That bas­tard.”

  “What should I do?” Gaston asked again.

  “Pretend you know nothing about this, especially at work. But, if you happen to overhear anything about Regent and Sampson, please let us know.”

  “Certainly. I promise no one is going to scare me off this t
ime.” He looked as if he suddenly realized he’d been helping a vampire and an angel. He swallowed the rest of his wine, straightened his shoulders in a resolve he’d never shown before. “I’m sorry if I acted odd when I realized what you both were. I’m not afraid any longer. I can handle the truth, now.”

  Somehow, she didn’t believe him. His visit felt like a tactic of some sort, but short of delaying them, she had no idea what it could be. “Thanks for stopping by. I’m sure you’ll understand if I say we have to go now?”

  Gaston’s expression flickered for a second before he stood, but he pulled a card out of his pocket and handed it to Jess. “This is my phone number. It’s my cell, and I always have it nearby if there’s anything I can do.”

  “Thank you,” Jess said taking it from him and walking him to the door.

  “Goodnight,” he said. “And please let me know the minute you hear from Regent.”

  Jess shut the door and turned to Britt. “What was that about?”

  Britt’s mouth had thinned. “We could follow him?”

  “No. I have the feeling he’s small potatoes. We’re going after a bigger target.”

  “Okay,” Britt said slowly. “Who might that be?”

  “Morana. She’s going to tell us everything tonight if she knows what’s good for her. I’m not walking away because she’s my sister this time.”

  “Let’s go then,” Britt said, taking the lead. “Knowing her, she’s probably at work.”

  “If she is, I’m going to be even more angry. She should be trying to help us.”

  They reached the bar. Morana wasn’t there, but her coworker Gervais was way too interested in their need to find her. Jess gave him the brush-off in a way only a vampire bitch could do. It felt good. She needed to get back to her normal life.

  On their way out the door, Jess looked back and caught him on his phone. The second he realized she’d seen him, he hung up.

  “Damn it, what is Morana doing? Where is she?” Jess said, getting out her own cell phone and dialing Morana’s number. It rang several times before she answered. Jess put the phone on speaker so Britt could hear as well.

  “What?” Morana said in a cold, irritated voice.

  “It’s Jess. Where are you?”

  “None of your damn business,” she said.

  “I’m making it my business, dear sister, because if you don’t help us find Regent tonight, you’re going to wish you’d never met me.”

  Morana laughed. “Oh, I’m so scared.”

  Jess noted that Britt’s body had begun to glow. His blue light extended from his fingers and reached toward the phone. Whoa, it had never done that before.

  “She’s near the Arc de Triomphe,” he said.

  “How do you know that?” Morana shouted through the phone line. “Have you got a tracking device on me?”

  “In a way,” Jess said between her teeth. “I’m warning you to stay there. We’re on our way.”

  They were only a couple of blocks over. “Do you think she’ll wait?” Britt asked.

  “She will if she knows what’s good for her.”

  When they arrived, Morana was surrounded by three vampires wearing Vlad’s crest. “They must be part of his vampire hunting team,” Jess said on their approach. “Apparently, Vlad is tired of waiting for her to step up and save Regent, too.”

  The big vamps were questioning Morana and weren’t taking no for an answer.

  “Where is Regent Vandermire? Where did you see him last?”

  She was bleeding. They’d cut both of her arms, and her side—just enough to make her uncomfortable and convince her that she was in danger.

  When Morana saw Jess and Britt, a quick flash of relief lit her face. Bitch. She didn’t care about Regent, but she expected them to come to her aid.

  They drew closer, but didn’t interfere with the interrogation.

  “Hey, you two. Aren’t you going to help?” she said finally, wincing after an interrogator slashed her one more time.

  “Nope.”

  “I’ll call Sinclair, then. He won’t put up with any of this.” She got out her cell phone again, and the biggest vamp grabbed it from her.

  “Where is Father Vandermire?” the vampire repeated.

  Vlad showed up with Veronique minutes after Jess and Britt had arrived.

  “I guess we both decided this was the only way to find your bro­ther,” Veronique said, glancing at her watch. As a cop, she knew the timeline to theoretically find a kidnap victim safely. Regent and Sampson’s time was running out.

  The big vamp grabbed Morana by the arm again, while staring into her eyes. He’d be impelling her. She turned silent and went slack, but he held her body steady.

  “I don’t know. He just disappeared in front of my eyes,” she said.

  Jess sagged against Britt, and his arm instantly circled her waist. She’d already told them that. “This is going nowhere. She really doesn’t know.”

  “Wait,” Vlad said. “She knows more than you think. She’s holding back, I’d swear it.”

  The impelling vampire continued to stare into her eyes, pushing her back against the arch. “Where did you last see him?” His voice rever­berated into her, and Jess felt the question digging into her own mind, too.

  “He’s a powerful mind driller,” she whispered.

  “He’s one of my best,” Vlad said. “Word is that the Ancient is hunting Regent. He desperately wants to get his hands on him.”

  “He doesn’t have him then?” Jess felt her own legs wobble with relief, but Britt still held her safely against his body.

  “I don’t think he does. We spotted some of his olde vamps searching tonight. Maybe they’re looking for someone else, or maybe they don’t have Regent.”

  “If they don’t, who does?”

  Veronique reached out to touch Jess’s arm but thought better of it. “We’ll find him. In the meantime, do you have any idea why anyone would want your brother so badly?”

  Jess considered the question. “No. I don’t think so . . .” She paused. “Wait a minute. Maybe I do.” Vlad already knew this, but Morana didn’t. She took a chance and told them about the book he’d uncovered at the Palais des Papes.

  “Why wouldn’t they just steal the book from his apartment?” Veronique said.

  “Most likely because they can’t read it,” Jess said. “Only Sampson and Regent have been able to decipher some of it.”

  “And Gaston,” Britt said. “What do you want to bet he was looking for the book tonight. That’s why he showed up. He thought we might have it.”

  “Got it.” The impelling vampire said, letting go of Morana. She dropped to the ground, her eyes vacant, her mouth drooping.

  It’d be nice to feel sorry for her, only she’d done nothing to help their brother. She wasn’t worthy of loyalty. Not anymore.

  “Where?” Vlad asked.

  “It’s a side street off St. Denis,” the interrogator said, then gave the street name in French so quickly Jess couldn’t catch it.

  “Uh oh,” Veronique said under her breath, but instantly realized Jess would have heard her anyway. She cast a sympathetic look her way.

  Jess raised an eyebrow and waited.

  “It’s an unsafe street at night. It makes sense that Regent might be there, though.”

  “Let’s go, then,” she said.

  “What about her?” the interrogator asked.

  Vlad looked at Morana’s slumped body on the ground, still hollowed out by the interrogation.

  “Leave her,” Jess said.

  Britt monitored Morana, the muscles in his jaw working.

  “You don’t mean it, Jess. She can’t help what she is.”

  “If Regent dies, I’ll make sure she doesn’t hav
e to worry about what she is ever again.” And she meant it.

  Britt hung back. “Give me the street address, Vlad. I’ll catch up with you.”

  After he got the address, Jess bit her lip and walked away with Vlad and Veronique.

  In the deepest part of her black heart, she was thankful that Britt stayed back to make sure Morana would be all right until she came around. She just couldn’t force herself to do it right now. Not until she knew Regent was safe.

  REGENT HEARD THE key in Sampson’s door across the hall. He jumped to his feet to see someone leaning over Sampson. His friend appeared to be unconscious on the floor. Or dead.

  “Oh no! Hang in there, Sampson. Jess will find us,” he said under his breath, then started praying for his friend’s soul again.

  The man leaning over Sampson turned and spotted Regent in the window. “Let Father Vandermire out of there, Boyer. You were sup­posed to put them in the upstairs bedrooms, not the cells.”

  “Sorry, sir. I thought they’d be safer down here if we were at­tacked.” Boyer hurried over and unlocked the cell door, allowing Regent to rush across the hall and drop to the floor next to Sampson.

  Sampson’s face was ashen, and his pants leg was saturated with blood. It looked bad.

  Apparently, he hadn’t been able to stop the bleeding himself, even though he’d ripped a piece of material off his shirt and tried to use it as a tourniquet.

  The man leaning over him had a presence unlike anything he’d seen before. His blue eyes assessed Sampson with singular attention. “I’m very sorry you weren’t tended to sooner, Dr. Case. I do apologize.”

  Sampson moaned.

  Regent could do nothing but hope this man had some medical knowledge, or that he’d call an ambulance before it was too late. “Can you help him?” he asked.

  The man closed his eyes and held a hand over Sampson. A familiar blue light emanated from his fingers and went into Sampson’s leg. Regent actually saw his friend’s flesh start to heal. The light lit Sampson’s veins next, then flashed through his body. Suddenly, Sampson’s eyes opened and he inhaled a calm breath.

  “I had the weirdest dream,” he said, pushing up off the floor. “Hey, am I still dreaming? Where are we?”