Bloody Heretic (2 page)

    "You would think the color of my hair would have nothing to do with it, but I think it does serve as a
distraction." She
pivoted
on one booted foot
to kick Elliot in the chest,
send
ing
him flying again.

    "Give it up man. You're out matched and out classed." Dom laughed at Elliot as he glared up at him. Jeanne turned to take him in, still standing in the
doorway. He
instantly
wished
he had kept his mouth shut. It made him uneasy to have her looking at him. He strode past her and helped Elliot to his feet. "So, how do you like finally being
a part
of the team?"

    "Winter in Russia sucks," he
quipped
, br
ushing off his coat. Dom laughed.

    "All seasons in Russia suck. And it's April so technically this is spring." He patted the kid on the back. Jeanne sat down on the lip of the north facing wall and lit a cigarette, ignoring them both. "You are relieved
for the night, young henchman. You can join Claude if you wish, but his view isn't much better than this one."

    "I bet I could take Claude in a fight. He's only what, forty-eight? And a computer nerd,
”
he
mumbled.

    "That's the spirit."
He led El to t
he door and watched him shuffle down the stairs.

    "Do I frighten you
,
Dominic?" Jeanne asked behind him, her French accent still evident for reasons he didn't understand. He sucked in a breath before closing the door, turning slowly to look at her. She
was still sitting on the brick wall, cigarette clasped between her fingers. She didn't look up at
him;
she was staring at the flame of her Zippo.

    "Why would you think that?" He strove for casual. He tried not to let it show that she had hit a nerve.
She snapped the lighter shut and smiled at him before taking another hit.

    "I don't know really. You seem quite close with everyone. But you won't utter a word to me without flinching. Makes a girl wonder." This was the first time in four months that s
he had called him out.

     "I didn't mean any disrespect. You just seem like a private person. I wouldn't want you to think I was
prying
." He pulled up the chair that Elliot had brought out and sat to the right of her.
He could see the river just beyond
the buildings across the street and decided to focus on the dark, churning water instead of the woman beside him.

    "And what could you possibly want to know about me that would be considered prying?"

    "I...I don't know." She was baiting him. He knew
she was the Maiden of Orleans. She knew he knew, but he would never bring it up to her. Quite honestly, he
was
intimidated by her. Maybe a bit frightened, but not merely physically. Her legend alone had him on edge. It was like conversing with the Pope on
the roof o
f a two star hotel in Volgograd
.

    "I propose an offer. You ask me a question, I ask you a question. Sound good?"

    "I'm supposed to be watching the street," he answered lamely. She glanced behind her to the alley below, then back to him wit
h a smile.

    "I'm sure you can multitask. How else would you have gotten to where you are in Investigations, if not for being good at your job?"

    "I guess it cou
ldn't hurt to have some company," h
e relented.
Get me through this in one piece,
he pray
ed.

    "Excellent. Now, I'll go first. Where are you from originally?"

    Easy. "What is now the
Dominican
Republic." He tugged on his jacket sleeve.

    "Really?
Fascinating
. Now ask me something." She flicked her cigarette across the roof top
,
only h
alf smoked.

    "I don't know. I can't think of anything." He already knew everything about her past.

    "Oh, come on. Don't you want to know something about me? Nothing?" She pouted prettily. He was memorized by the curve of her lips but quickly looked
away lest she notice how truly caught he was.

    "Alright. Where are you from?"

    "France,
naturelment
."

    "My father wa
s from France," h
e told her
without
prompting. It had started snowing again.

    "Truly? Which part?"

    "I'm not sure actual
ly. He only came to port once a year to see my mother and myself. He was a privateer with his own ship. We rarely talk
ed about his past. I
t wasn't something he wished to
divulge
. C
riminal dealings or military history
,
I
’
m not sure.
"

    "Most likely. How
old are you?" She asked unabashed. He stared up at her for a moment before answering.

    "Three hundred and eighty-eight, this fall," he admitted. Younger than her by two
centuries
, but no baby himself. She nodded to herself before looking back to him
ex
pectantly
.
"Oh. So where do you live now?" That was something he didn't know the answer to already.

    "New Orleans. There really is no other place in North America that can compare. I own a bar in the French Quarter. The Orchid. It's my own slice of hea
ven." A proud smile appeared and Dom couldn't help but smile with her.

    "I would like to see your bar one day. I haven't been to New Orleans in some time."

    "It's not really your kind of crowd but I would be delighted for you to come anyway," she sm
irked.

    "Not my crowd?" He asked, confused. While he was puzzling that one out, she was swinging her legs over the edge of the roof, facing the alleyway below. She leaned over slightly, looking closely at a couple stumbling out of the club across the st
reet
, about two blocks down from the hotel
. He watched as they crossed the adjacent street, huddled to
gether and laughing as they crisscrossed
drunkenly toward a car.

    "Nice talking with you, Dominic. Let's do it again sometime," she told him. He was g
oing to reciprocate but before he got a word out she
slipped
off the roof to land four stories down in the snow covered alley below. Barely a flake stirred at her landing and she strode
smoothly
away after the couple. Dom grabbed the walkie off his belt.

   "Claude, come in. I have Jeanne going after a pair of humans to your left in a blue sedan. Do you copy?" He radioed in.

    "Copy that, Black Beard, I have her in sight. She appears to be questioning the humans for
Intel
. And it's code name Monet, Black
beard. Over," Claude answered. Dom squeezed his eyes shut before answering.

    "Whatever Claude." He watched as the lights
announcing the name of the club, Crimson,
went out. The human were told that Last Call was at 2:30am but in reality that was when
things heated up for the Others. The humans stood at attention as Jeanne pulled informa
tion about the club from them.
The three day stake out had led to only a hand full of good information about the owner.
Supposedly
a Vamp by the name of Boris
Aleksandro
v had been receiving stolen Weres at
his clubs to dance, fuck and be drained by the Vamp
clientele
. So far they had captured a dozen of the Betas cohorts across Europe and freed three times as many girls. But the trail went almost completely cold after Gre
ece. At a dead end with the Asian case until all the evidence against Beta Orleans was fully collected and
analyzed
back home, they worked with the one lead they did have here in Russia. So far Boris had remained elusive but they were getting closer to nam
ing the Weres in the club and
regardless
if Boris ever showed his face, the
y would take the girls soon and go
. Vic would maintain half the group to stay behi
nd and catch the sick bastard.
Currently, Vic, Adam, Ethan and Alex were posing as club kids,
infil
trating
and gathering information about
the girls and other employees.
Jeanne let the two humans go,
and
as they got into their car and drove away Jeanne looked up at him. He nod
ded once and she smiled beautifully back at him. His heart tried to kick
into
overdrive but he kept his outward
appearance
calm
as always
. Why was she interested in getting to know him now? They hadn't spoken more than two sentences to each other that weren't about the case in four months. His shock over her
appearance
in Boulder ha
d quickly given way to awe at her strategic prowess
and she
’
d only proven herself more capable in the months following
. Gloria and Jeanne were both unexpected boons to the cause. They
anticipated
the enemies every move and the group had rarely a need to ac
tually fight in combat. Not since the night of Vic's Homecoming Ball had the fighting escalated to that level.
Not once had another Pack leader stepped forward to try and claim the Orleans Pack; so far they
’
re only mission had been to locate and save the W
ere female and neutralize any unruly Pack members who disagreed with the new policies.
Once in Germany they had to chase down a suspect, the man leading them on a merry chase through downtown Leipzig, ending in an ambush. If Dom was worried about Jeanne am
idst the chaos, he
needn
’
t
be. She dispatched more men that night than anyone and left just as quickly, dragging the original man out by his collar. She quietly obtai
ned the information that had le
d them here, to Russia and Boris Aleksandrov. He shouldn't
be surprised at her skill but he was. Being told of something and seeing it for yourself, well, it was
absolutely
different. She was stunning to behold. The ease with which she accomplished tasks was unreal.
He was almost jealous. Almost.
As he w
atched Jea
nne walk back to the h
otel
entrance
, his cell chirped in his pocket. He dug it out.

    "Your Majesty," he answered seeing the American number.

    "Dominic. I tried Adam and Ethan but they didn't answer," The King said.

    "No, they're on a mission at t
he moment. It shouldn't be any more than four hours or so until they're finished."

    "It's alright. I was just calling for an update. I haven't heard from anyone in a while."

    "We
’
re settled in Volgograd. We got a lead in Germany about a Blood Club in
the city run by a Vamp named Boris Aleksandrov. As far as Claude can tell the name is an alias but we
’
re still running
background
checks on his known associates, checking for connections, that sort of thing. Ethan and Adam are in the club right now search
ing for any missing females. That list Devin was able to get together has been a huge help."

    "Yes, I'm glad things are looking up. It's been such a terrible mess, all these loose ends you've had to tie u
p," the King said
.
“
The whole affair just disgus
ts me.”

   "As it does all of us
. The sheer amount of people involved is disgusting. I hate that our kind are involved with this sort of terrible scheme." Dom couldn'
t help but think of all the wome
n they had saved, pulled from terrible places, the
awful things they had endured. The worst though were the ones that had been trapped for so long they didn't want to leave. The ones that fought, kicked and screamed
,
as they were picked up during the raids. Stockholm
syndrome
it was called. They were the
worst off.  He was glad that Gloria, Alex, Vic and Jeanne were with them. The kidnapped women trusted them faster when the girls explained that they were helping.

     "So everything is alright at the moment?" The King asked, breaking Dom's train of thoug
ht.