SEDUCTIVE SUPERNATURALS: 12 Tales of Shapeshifters, Vampires & Sexy Spirits (109 page)

We turned onto another lane, scrutinizing it, staying alert for any musty smell that might clue me in to Etienne’s presence. He wasn’t here, either.

So we wound onto the next lane. It was so quiet I could hear my breathing, Philippe’s breathing…

And when I smelled must, I froze.

As I swiveled my gaze to the left, I saw a body on a flat tomb.

My pulse lurched, my boots clinging to me. What the bloody hell? A
body
?

Everything happened in warped time then: Philippe stepping in front of me, his revolver raised. Me, raising the homemade flamethrower and stepping round Philippe because I didn’t know how far my flames would travel and I wanted to be close. Etienne, giving us a cheeky little wave before either Philippe or I could fire, then whooshing out of sight on a laugh.

“Shit,” Philippe said, aiming round us.

I went to the low tomb where Etienne had lain. The name “Duchamp” was engraved on the marker, and even with the aid of my torch, the rest of the information was so faded, I couldn’t read it in the moonlight. Was Etienne teasing us with a clue about his lineage?

I stuffed my torch and flamethrower into my bag and pulled out the dagger instead. Not to be rude to the current occupant of the tomb, but I stabbed the dirt, just in case Etienne was pissing round and was actually still invisibly lying there.

To be honest, I was certain I had done worse in life than knife a dead person’s home.

No response. He
had
left us.

I called out, seeing if I could lure Etienne again. “Is this your family’s grave, Etienne? Is this the reason you invited us here?”

A voice rang from above us, from one of the roofs. “I have no family.”

If he weren’t a murderer, I might have felt for him. He sounded positively glum. Yet, in the next instant, he reminded me of the reason I wanted to kill him.

His tone was back to being insufferable. “Sadly, you are not treating this situation with the gravity I had hoped for. There are
rules
to a duel, you barbarians. Does no one understand this?”

Philippe said, “Then come down and tell us about them. Show yourself.”

“Oh, you absolute
fools
.” His sigh floated over the air. “I’m finding that I cannot trust in your modern word. If only I was back in the era I was born for…Ah, yes, honor was not such weak currency then.”

So he
did
come from another time, as we had first thought?

I stepped away from the flat tomb, attempting to get an idea of where Etienne might be. On top of the crypt with a cross on it? I kept my dagger hidden, holding it by the blade, ready to zing it at the bastard.

But then I cut my thoughts off.
Negative energy
. Even if this thing wasn’t a demon, that didn’t mean it wasn’t a creature that still thrived on those sorts of vibes.

Philippe hadn’t lowered his revolver. He was still searching out targets. “What are the rules of your duel, Etienne? Tell us.”

“On your honor, sir? You will listen and comply with them?”

“On my honor,” Philippe gritted.

At least he had more than I did as a Meratoliage.

I stopped dwelling on that immediately, because there was a
whoosh
behind me, and I spun toward a tall tomb, where Etienne was standing.

“My love,” he said, bowing to me. “You shall see that I will do everything within my power to win you toni—”

Philippe raised his revolver at him, but Etienne jumped to the next tomb before Philippe could squeeze the trigger. Then the killer flared into the night, gone again. Unfortunately, his voice remained, and it was already down the lane twenty feet away.

“You, sir,” he cried, “are despicable!”

I sprinted toward the sound, Philippe on my heels, and Etienne popped into sight on the roof of another tomb. Then he blipped out of existence just as we arrived. Farther down the lane, he did it again.
Again
.

Philippe was behind me the entire way. “Lilly! He’s leading us somewhere! We need to stop!”

But I was going to take care of this
now
. No more murders, no more mocking or teasing us—this thing was done.

Matt and Michelle
, I kept thinking.
Someone has to fight for them since they couldn’t do it themselves…

My determination drove me into another lane, and even though I was alert to anything Etienne might spring on us, I went to another, until we were on the opposite side of the cemetery. And when I rounded another corner, there he was, leaning against a tree near a family tomb, his arms crossed. Etienne the killer.

I cocked my arm, holding the dagger, trusting my aim, and when I let it go…

Ever so slowly, the blade seemed to revolve through the night, and I saw Etienne’s white teeth flash, a smile, so very amused at my persistence. As the seconds dragged by, he began to disappear again…

My perception sped up, my dagger spinning faster and faster, and before Etienne faded all the way—

Thunk!

The blade stabbed the cravat near his neck, fixing him to the tree.

Yes!

I ran toward him while he pulled at his cravat, trapped. Couldn’t he dematerialize when a part of him, even his clothing, was pinned?

As I closed in, he madly worked off the cloth from round his neck, and just as a bullet from Philippe’s revolver snapped through the air past me, Etienne finally freed himself, popping out of sight.

Bark flew near the stabbed red cravat as Philippe’s bullet hit the trunk.

I hoped he had
far
more extra silver bullets, because this might take all night.

“Damn that thing!” Philippe shouted, skidding to a stop in front of the tomb near the tree. It was unsealed, and even in the moonlight I could see two empty shelves inside it. “He’s too fast.”

And this proved to be all too true when Etienne reappeared right next to Philippe.

All I saw was his maniacal smile as he snatched Philippe’s revolver, smashed him on the back of the skull with it, and heaved the weapon over the nearby cemetery wall.

I pulled the flamethrower out of my bag just as the creature easily pushed Philippe into the empty tomb.

Did he have the magic to seal it?

Panic exploded in me, my heart crying out. No monster was going to hurt Philippe.

Rage seethed, and I aimed that homemade flamethrower at the killer. But in the time it took me to do that, Etienne had already jumped at me, slapping the weapon from my grip. Then, with a speed and strength I should have expected, he grasped me by the throat and lifted me.

I kicked at him as I tried to pry his fingers from me. Choking, gagging…

“You have sharply disappointed me,” he said. “My patience is at an end for your games.”

Who
was playing games?

Now that he was fully in the moonlight, I could see him. Ordinary…a baby-cheeked face you would never notice in a crowd, even with the dagger cut I’d given him…younger than I’d thought…dark eyes, thin lips, tousled hair…

I at least had enough presence of mind to also realize that his slight French accent had disappeared.

“All I wanted was a fair fight,” he said. “But nothing’s fair—not the guys who always get the girls or have normal, wonderful lives. There really
isn’t
any honor or fairness out here.”

Out here?

I tried to respond, but all I could do was gasp-croak. If I could’ve spoken, I would’ve asked him why his nineteenth-century mannerisms had gone the way of his French accent.

He was no old monster—he was a newer one.

“You want to talk now?” he asked. “Just you try.”

As I kept kicking, it felt as if my boots were becoming unraveled, as if a vine had made its way free and was poised to wrap round his own neck.

Do it
, I thought.
Come on!

But when Etienne saw that vine, he dropped me as if I were a hot poker.

“
Merde!
” he yelled.

I crashed to the dirt, coughing, instinctively reaching for my neck. He was backing away from me, his mouth open and his eyes rounded. And he was smiling, as if he had finally found someone just like him.

“What
are
you?” he whispered.

Choking or not, I was already rolling toward the tree with the impaled dagger. No time for chin wagging.

“My
love
,” he said, out of patience. “Are you a hunter? Or a superhero?” Now he clapped in glee. “
I
’ve gotten a taste for hunting, too, and even though I was hoping you’d be lots of fun, this goes beyond that. So you wanna really play?”

What was he—a five-year-old who had been let out for the first time?

As I focused on working the dagger out of the tree, the air whooshed behind me. I yanked out the blade, and when I turned round, he was gone.

My sense of justice screamed at me to hunt down this game player—because that was what
he
was, right? A thing that got off on toying with human lives, whether it was with a duel or a hunt.

But my sense of justice was nothing compared to Philippe.

As I stumbled to the tomb where Etienne had stored him, I gripped my dagger, planning to retrieve the flamethrower at some point.

“I’m coming, Philippe,” I tried to say through my aching throat. Emotion gutted me further, making my voice into something even more unrecognizable. “Dammit, please be okay…”

As I came to the tomb, seeing how he was lying there so still, so death-like, I reached out to touch him, my heart twisting and—

Boom!

A force of nature crashed into me, sending me flying until I smashed into something that shattered and splintered.

White spots fluttered over my vision like electric snow, and I shook my head, clearing my gaze. But through the remaining drift, I couldn’t find Etienne anywhere.

What I did find was a massive wooden splinter impaling my upper arm.

For a moment, I merely stared at it. Pain hadn’t even roared through me yet, only a surreal sense of
Is this happening
? Blood beat round the wound and, sucking in my breath, I began to pull out the wood.

I pulled in air through my teeth because the splinter was truly
in
there. Then I heard the laugh. It rose above the sound of sirens in the near distance.

Shot fired
, I thought fuzzily, my hand falling to the ground in sudden weakness. Philippe’s silver bullet that had missed Etienne. Someone had called it in.

But weren’t those bullets supposed to help us tonight? The Tarot had told us so.

Blinking, I finally realized that the laughter was coming from next to me, and as I turned my head, I saw that I had been plowed to the far side of the cemetery, where the abandoned gatekeeper’s building stood. That was what I had crashed into.

As I moved, chipped white paint fell round me from the injured wall. A shredded tarp brushed my cheek.

Meanwhile, Etienne leaned against the house, holding an old-time pistol with a long muzzle. Was this where he had been storing his dueling weapons for tonight, just as he had stored the sabers at City Park for Matt and Michelle?

“Hunting,” he said, “is even funner than dueling.” Then, as if hearing his gaffe, he straightened up, slipping back into his gentleman persona. “I mean to say, hunting is far more amusing than a duel, my love. You provide such entertainment.”

Wanker.

“What’re you about?” I asked, the words like needles in my throat.

“I?” He seemed to consider the question. “Why, I do not know what you are intimating. I am a gentleman who—”

“What are
you?
”

He seemed to remember that he had asked me the same question first. “You tell me, my love, and I shall respond in kind. I am more curious about those boots you wear, though. How exquisite they are! Where do I purchase the like?”

“In hell,” I said, and in spite of the throbbing pain that had started to overcome my arm, I smiled. Might as well bleed with style.

Besides, from what I had told myself on the computer at Amari’s earlier tonight, I was fairly certain I had already been to a sort of hell.

The boots didn’t contradict me. They were silent, but not in the way they had been before because, now, they were huddled against me like a child wrapping its arms round its mother.

Wait, though—had my bleeding arm stopped throbbing? Were those magic vines trying to heal me?

I gritted my teeth as I moved, sending a rip of pain through my arm. The healing could have been going better.

Etienne cocked his head at the sirens getting closer, then waved the pistol at me. “Time is growing short, and I am beginning to think I should duel with
you
instead of your friend. You are so much livelier, and since you do not seem to return my affections anyway…”

He lifted his chin and refined his accent again, his voice quivering.

“Ladies often need a guiding hand to choose the suitor who will love them best. They do not always see what is right in front of their eyes unless you show them. If I win a duel with you, I win your heart. Those would be the stakes.”

This creature was truly bonkers. “Here’s a fine idea—why don’t you disappear from in front of
my
eyes?” Damn, the words hurt my choked throat.

He brought up the pistol, targeting me. Then, as if thinking games would certainly be much
funner
, he made a “bang” sound and lifted the muzzle. Then, with a cheeky
pop
, his body whooshed into nothing, reappearing two feet farther down the building.

But, this time, I had seen something I hadn’t noticed before. When he had reappeared, it was as if he had materialized out of the wall itself.

It was as if he hadn’t disappeared at all, but had only been
blending
.

My boots clutched me with what seemed like one last burst of their strength, sending me a strip of memory.

A fanged woman, her form slipping into that of a catlike creature, then back again…

A vampire? I thought. And from what I recalled, this vampire could…

Shapeshift?

Stunned, I allowed my mind to slow down and grasp this. Was Etienne a shapeshifter who could camouflage himself against his surroundings and use his impressive speed and strength to relocate to different places?