La Vida Vampire (30 page)

Maggie shook her head, a tumble of emotions in her eyes.

“Ah, Francesca. You arrive at last, and with touching concern for your friend.”

I looked up. “Etienne.”

I wanted to full-out energy-drain the bastard on the spot, but he’d been around a lot of vampires. At the first tug on his aura, he might shoot Maggie. I couldn’t risk that.

“What do you want to let Maggie go?”

“You,
ma petite.
”

I stood, fists clenched. “Fine. You’ve got me. Now what?”

Etienne laughed. “Do you not care to know why I want you?”

“Knock yourself out,” I said through gritted teeth. “Tell me.”

He gave me a slow, chilling smile. “You are a vampire and a virgin and have power
magnifique
waiting to be—how do you say it? Tapped. I, Etienne, will initiate you to lovemaking and
vos pouvoirs fleuriront.
Your power, it will blossom. Ah, what sexual delights await you with me as your lover.”

I let the virgin thing pass as he descended two steps.

“What I do not understand is why you have not come to me sooner. The
formule
, it has worked
fabuleusement bien
on all the other vampires.”

“The blood scent formula?”

“
Oui.
It worked so well, it rid Yolette of her rich husband.”

Suddenly I was in Etienne’s mind, reading his twisted thoughts. Pictures whirled, vile pictures of shredded flesh and spattered blood. Of death-stare eyes and a soul locked in the memory of terror. Of a woman with a pointed chin in the throes of passion on a beach, then broken in the sand and washed by waves. I saw more, saw everything Yolette and Etienne had done, and words tumbled out.

“Yolette used too much of your scent on purpose, and Rachelle killed James in a bloodlust, didn’t she? You helped Yolette cover the crime, but you knew the truth, because you were there watching from a safe room. It was you I heard on Monday night. You said James’s death was an accident, but you thought the word
Murder.
”

His eyes widened, then narrowed as he came down another step.

“Very good,
ma petite.
Your powers, they may be even more formidable than I thought. What else do you know?”

“You lured Rachelle to the beach, but Yolette killed her. Then you used the same method to kill Yolette.”

“You are correct. Fitting,
n’est-ce pas
?”

“But you didn’t kill Yolette for her money—or rather James’s money. You killed her because she threatened to frame you for James’s and Rachelle’s murders and take your formula.”

Etienne shrugged. “
Oui,
it is true. Yolette, she is
jaloux
of you and your powers that will be. She does not wish me to have you. Pah, she has no vision.
Mais moi,
I have the grand plans.”

“How did you rig it so we’d find Yolette’s body?”

“Ah,
ironique,
was it not?” He chuckled. “Yolette, she was meant to sink with the boat. I report her missing. Days go by, and she is found eaten by the fishes or not found at all. I am the grieving husband.
Très tragique,
but now I have you,
mon cher.
”

Etienne came down the last two steps, the pistol now aimed at me, the sleeker gun at Maggie. A low, menacing
rrryyyow
sounded close, and I heard soft footfalls from the back of Fay’s house. Cat was here? Were the cops? Had Etienne heard? His gaze flicked toward another, louder
rrryyyow.
Full diversion time.

“Too bad you’ve done all this for nothing, Etienne,” I said. “I’m not a virgin, and your formula doesn’t work on me. The smell of blood makes me sick.”

His eyebrows rose to his hairline. “Then you will become accustomed to the scent, and you will crave it as you crave me. I will control your desire, your powers and the
formule.
”

“Wrong,” I said, fists on my hips. “I’d rather stake myself than have sex with you, and no one—no one—will control me again. Ever.”

He pressed the smaller gun to Maggie’s temple, and my heart tripped.

“You want your friend to die?”

“No, damn it.”

“Then we will walk. My auto is in the next block.”

Walking was good. I’d get him away from Maggie and then use one of these powers everyone kept yammering about. I gave Maggie a reassuring smile as Etienne stuck the smaller gun in his waistband. He hooked an arm around my neck, and we turned from the main part of town.

We hadn’t taken five steps when Gorman stepped from behind a huge hibiscus bush, a honking huge gun pointed at us.

“You ain’t leavin’ yet, Frenchie. I got a score to settle for that beatin’ you gave me.”

In one smooth motion, Etienne raised his pistol and shot Gorman dead center. It was so fast, I thought I’d imagined it until Gorman folded in half and hit the pavement.

As he did, I caught a flash of movement from between two buildings on the other side of the street. Time slowed, but events didn’t.

Etienne aimed, Saber aimed, and I leapt into the air, half pulling Etienne with me. From the astonished look on Saber ’s face, I might have honest-to-goodness flown toward him until one bullet tore through my thigh, another through my back. Saber tried to break my fall, but I fell short of his arms and bounced on the pavement. Two more shots, and a vicious
rrryyyow
echoed in the street, then silence except for the wail of sirens. Maggie. Saber. Had Etienne shot them both like he had Gorman? Raw fear like I hadn’t known in centuries drove me to my feet.

Yowling, screaming, and pain-racked French curses erupted behind me as I looked for Maggie. She was still tethered to the rail, her eyes the size of saucers, but she was alive and not bleeding.

Saber lived, too. He stood with his gun wavering between Etienne and Cat in her full panther form. Cat held Etienne ’s throat in her jaws and had drawn blood but hadn’t torn his throat out. She rolled her amber eyes at me as if to ask what I wanted her to do.

“No, Saber,” I shouted and staggered to him. “Don’t shoot Cat. Please.”

“Cesca, get back. This cat is a fucking werepanther.”

“Trust me, she’s not.” I gently sank my hand into the stiff ruff of fur at Cat’s neck. “Release the man and hide.”

She obeyed but met my gaze before she spun, loped between the two buildings across the street, and disappeared. From the corner of my eye I saw Saber shove the gun in his holster as officers poured into the street from both ends. He dealt with the officials, and I lurched to Maggie’s side to carefully remove the gag.

“Are you all right?” I asked, awkwardly hugging her. “Oh, Maggie, I’m so sorry. I should’ve warned you about Etienne.”

“Wouldn’t have made a difference,” she croaked, her throat obviously dry. “He surprised me. Acted like you’d told me all about him.”

“Why did you leave the condo?” I asked, cautiously tugging on the plastic ties I saw were biting into her skin. I might ’ve been able to snap them with vampire strength, but couldn’t risk hurting her more. “Damn, I need scissors to get these off.”

I called Saber over as Maggie said, “I was coming on the tour. To protect you.” She gripped my hand. “Guess my little girl’s grown up this weekend.”

“Your little girl,” Saber said from the foot of the stairs, “is in a shitload of trouble. Here, let’s get you free.”

He flipped what looked like mini–wire cutters from a Swiss Army knife and, in under a minute, Maggie was on her feet, supported between two paramedics. She insisted I needed medical attention, too, maybe to save me from the wrath blazing in Saber’s eyes.

But Saber moved fast. He grabbed my shoulders and backed me up the steps almost to Fay’s front door.

“Why the hell did you jump into my line of fire?”

“I was jumping in Etienne’s way, not yours.”

“He didn’t get the first shot off.”

“And I should know that
how
? He shot Gorman before I could move. I thought I was saving your butt.”

“If you wanted to save butts, why didn’t you drain that SOB’s energy the minute you got here?”

“Besides protecting Maggie, I wanted to get the truth. He confessed, Saber. And even if what he told us isn’t admissible in court, you have him for kidnapping and killing Gorman and attempted murder.”

“You’re almost right, Ms. Marinelli.” March’s voice rumbled from the steps.

Saber swung to face him, and I caught Fay in the window looking smug. Smug instead of angry? That had to be a first.

“We’ve got Fournier,” March continued, “on a whole list of charges including multiple counts of attempted murder.”

“Attempted? Gorman’s alive?”

“He is for now, and I’d appreciate it, Saber, if you’d finish your chewing out somewhere else. Ms. Marinelli is bleeding, and my evidence techs need the space.”

“Of course, Detective March,” I said, head high.

Too bad I missed a step on the way off the porch and fell flat. I ruined a perfectly regal exit. I could’ve sworn Fay laughed.

Flagler Hospital’s ER was hopping. My implant chip doc wasn’t on duty, but a guy who really did look a little like George Clooney was. I imagined comparing notes on him with Maggie. It kept me from brooding about Saber ’s dark glances and thunderous silence.

Gorman was taken to a hospital near the interstate, and Etienne Fournier arrived by ambulance and under guard. Saber’s second shot had caught Etienne’s arm—a through and through. No bullet to dig out, but he needed stitches to close the tears and punctures on his neck. He babbled constantly in mixed French and English about the wild panther that had attacked him. Maggie and I were also transported by the EMTs, and Saber followed. Maggie was diagnosed with mild shock and given an IV for dehydration. She didn’t call Neil, but Saber did. I don’t know what Saber said to Neil—or what Maggie said to him for that matter—but Neil bopped into my treatment room at one point. He joked and told me he’d take me surfboard shopping when Maggie and I were well. I nearly fell off the examination table.

Saber’s shot had hit my thigh, but it, too, had gone through the muscle and out again. Since the healing had begun, the doctor left it alone. My back was another story. The bullet had sheared across a rib and lodged in my side. Since it was evidence, it had to come out. I tried to take off my precious one -piece Regency gown myself, but the attending nurse slit it with scissors, avoiding the bullet holes, and handed it to a deputy as more evidence.

Saber stayed with me but didn’t stroke my legs through the procedure. He kept up the silent treatment until the doctor mentioned giving me a transfusion to speed the healing.

Saber insisted I ingest the pint of blood.

I told them both to shove it.

Well, what could Saber do? Stick a straw in the bag and pry my mouth open? Hardly. Neil took Maggie home at four in the morning and spent the night in her bed. Saber took me home at six and camped on the couch. We didn’t say two words worth repeating from the time March broke up Saber ’s rant at me until the following afternoon.

I came to awareness sluggishly until the mattress shifted and my eyelids flew open. Propped on his elbow, Saber ’s cobalt gaze solemnly assessed me.

“How’s Maggie? Where is she?” I asked rapid fire and started to rise.

Saber pulled me back to bed. “Maggie’s fine. She had a call about some breakthrough on the house. Permits and a dedicated crew or something like that. Neil’s with her.” He paused a long second. “How are you?”

“I need a shower,” I said, then realized that last shower I’d taken was with Saber. “I mean, I’m good.”

“You need this before anything else, ” he said, reaching behind him to the bedside table. He hooked two bottles of Starbloods in his tanned fingers.

“I wish you’d stop shoving blood at me,” I said, snagging both bottles and setting them on my side table.

“I wish you’d stop taking chances with your life,” he said sternly.

“Afterlife,” I corrected.

“Whatever. You scared about ten years off me last night.”

“It wasn’t that chancy,” I said quietly. “I am a vampire.”

“You’re also someone I’d like to keep around for a while.”

“You would?”

He raised a brow. “You think I sleep with vampires all the time?”

“I didn’t say that.” I picked at the sheet edge, then met his eyes again. “I don’t know what to think, Saber.”

“Neither do I,” he admitted, taking my hand, “but I’m willing to take the ride to see where this goes.” He paused a beat.

“Are you?”

“I don’t know how much time we’ll have together. I have to make new costumes. I have to study.”

“I have investigations to conduct. Like into the werepanther.”

“It’s not a were. It’s a shape-shifter. A bewitched cat that turns into a panther. Or maybe the other way around,” I said, wishing I could think of a better description. “But it’s not a were.”

“A bewitched animal?” he asked, eyes narrowing in thought. “How do you know for sure?”

“Weres, real lycanthropes, have a certain smell. Cat smells completely different, and I sense magick on her.”

“Is this a psychic thing?” he pressed.

I debated a nanosecond, but I trusted him. “I’ve seen something similar. My friend Triton. The one from the old days.”

“The one you were in love with?”

“Yes. He shape-shifted into a dolphin, but I always felt the same sense of magick from him. Triton wasn’t a were, and Cat isn’t, either.”

He looked at the oversized stuffed dolphin that rested on my desk, quiet for so long I thought he’d up and leave. Instead he gave a single nod. “Okay, then.”

“That’s all? Just okay?”

“Yeah, that’s all.” He reached to tuck a sprig of hair behind my ear. “I trust that you know the difference, and I trust you to tell me the truth.”

“Oh. Well, good.” Feeling awkward, I cleared my throat. “What’s happening with Etienne?”

He grinned. “He’s booked into St. Johns County jail. In the infirmary for now.”

“Will he go to trial?”

“Oh, yeah. He can’t seem to confess fast enough.”

“Even to Yolette’s murder?” I asked, surprised. “I didn’t think there was solid evidence on him.”

“There wasn’t, but he’s wearing Detective March thin unburdening himself of his crimes.”