Chapter Ten

"I don't want you to go."

Charlemagne paused in his full-length mirror to glance back at me. "Abigail." He started.

"I know." I said, making a face at him. I was sitting in the middle of his bed with my laptop, journal, and tape recorder. He'd been plying me with stories, trying to keep me distracted from the fact that he was going out tonight and I couldn't come with him. In all fairness, he'd been dodging Marcus for over a week, and even if he didn't like me, it was only right to share.

"Do you?" He turned to me fully, straightening the lapels of his suit. A beautiful deep burgundy color with a dove grey turtleneck. His curls were tied back at the nape of his neck. And he just looked…heartachingly perfect.

I shifted forward, going around my laptop to crawl towards the edge of the bed. "I know." I repeated, sitting up on my knees to face him. "It's important. I'm just being selfish." I said, biting my lower lip.

It was more than that. I couldn't get Gemma out of my head. Or the other girl. Darlene Hunter. Dead a whole five days now. She had looked like me. Dark hair, round face. Thinking about it, Gemma favored me too. My stomach tightened into a little ball of dread. I knew if I told him about them, he'd stay. But I wanted to be fair. And I didn't want him to worry.

Charlemagne crossed the space between us to cup my face between his hands. "I like that you're selfish with me." He said, bending his head to press a kiss to my nose. "But something else is wrong, what are you worried about?"

I studied his face up close, it was on the tip of my tongue to tell him. It was almost really stupid not to. I think the person who nailed a bird to my door is killing girls that look like me. "Actually, I need to tell you something." I breathed out, reaching up to wrap my fingers in his lapel.

He blinked down at me, worry darkening his features. "Talk to me." He said, slipping his thumbs along my cheeks. "What's wrong, mon coeur?"

I opened my mouth to tell him when there was a brief knock and then Marcus opened the door to sweep inside. "Please, tell me you're ready."

Charlemagne straightened to glance at him. "I'll be down soon, but I need a moment."

"No, no, it's okay." I said, dragging my hands up to squeeze his wrists. "Go. I don't want Marcus to have an aneurysm." I muttered, trying to wave it off.

While Marcus scowled, Charlemagne eyed me for a moment longer. "Are you sure?"

I nodded between his hands. "I'm okay, baby. We'll talk later." I promised, the dread knot in my stomach tightening.

Charlemagne bent to kiss my mouth. "And you'll be here waiting for me when I get back?"

"In my unicorn pajamas and everything." I assured him, leaning into him to kiss him deeply. "I'll miss you." I said softly, finding it easier and easier to say.

"I will miss you more, ma cherie." He tilted his chin to kiss my nose. "Walk me out?"

I nodded and climbed out of bed to take his hand and walk him to the door. "Have fun, baby." I said, tilting my head back for a kiss goodbye. "Take care of him, Marcus." I added, offering the other vampire a small smile.

Marcus eyed me curiously. "I always do, human." He grunted, stepping out into the night ahead of Charlemagne.

I rolled my eyes at his back and smiled up at Charley. "I tried." I tilted my shoulder.

"And that's why I like you more than him." Charlemagne grinned, kissing my cheek before he stepped out after Marcus.

Smiling to myself I watched them until they were gone a second later. I shut the door and threw the bolt before turning back to Fortuna. "Guess it's just you and me tonight." I muttered, starting towards the kitchen to grab a few snacks before heading back up to Charlemagne's room.

The size of Fortuna had never bothered me. It had always been safe; it had always been Charlemagne's. As integral to our city's history as it was to me. But standing in the kitchen alone, tension crawled up my back. Gemma flashed through my head. What had she'd been doing the night she'd died? Darlene? Why did they look like me?

My stomach tightened as I glanced down at the sandwich I'd been putting together. I really wanted it to be a coincidence. Some predator with a penchant for plump brunettes. Nothing to do with me. Cause why would it? I was just a writer. It was silly to think it had anything to do with me. Right? The crow shifted things. A threat.

God, I wished I'd insisted on Charley staying in tonight. I should have told him. I managed to finish making my sandwich and grab the rest of my snacks before hurrying back upstairs. I shut the door behind me and locked it on a whim. I didn't think anyone would attack me in Fortuna, but my paranoia was preying on my logical sense.

I climbed back into the center of Charlemagne's bed, inhaling his lingering scent in the room to calm myself. Placing my food to the side, I dragged my laptop towards me. I pulled up my incognito browser, the news and obits for Gemma and Darlene already up. Throats torn out. The police thought it was an especially vicious knife attack, or maybe even animals. But I guess they didn't know vampires existed. Could it be a vampire? Someone who had invaded Charlemagne's state?

I pulled up another tab to search for anything new. Nothing. Thank God. As much as I wanted to shut the thoughts out of my mind, the compulsion to keep searching persisted. How many times could you go through someone's Facebook page? Read the same heartbreaking comments? I was just looking for something to tell me it wasn't my fault. That it had nothing to do with me.

I ate slowly as I doom scrolled. My stomach tied itself into a knot. I just wanted Charlemagne to come home and hold me until this feeling of dread went away. I started to reach back for my phone. I'd made sure he'd had his on him—though keeping it charged and him actually checking his notifications were a different matter. I touched the screen, considering. If I called, he'd come.

I didn't want to call. He needed to work the circuit and, as much as I didn't like him, spend time with Marcus. I didn't want him to alienate one of his closest friends over me and a little paranoia. Exhaling, I pulled my hand back and closed the lid on my laptop instead. What I needed was a sitcom marathon or a really nice, gory vampire movie.

My phone rang as I started to reach for the remote. I snatched it off the nightstand and answered without checking the screen. "Did you feel me thinking about you?"

There was a pause on the other end. "Miss Braden?"

I blinked, sitting up straighter when I didn't recognize the voice. "Oh, sorry, yes, that's me." I frowned. "Who is this?"

"I'm Officer McNamara with the BCPD—"

I was on my feet a second later, ice slamming into the pit of my stomach. "What's wrong? My sister—"

"No, ma'am—Do you live at 118 Concord?" He asked, going on once I'd confirmed that I did. "There appears to have been a break-in. A few neighbors called it in when they heard the noise."

A break-in? My brows started to bend when my heart suddenly slammed into my throat. "Frank!" I snatched my keys off the nightstand and stepped into my shoes. "My cat? He's an orange tom, is he okay?" I breathed out, grabbing my messenger bag and heading for the door.

"We haven't seen a cat, ma'am, the front door was open when we got here."

I hurried down the stairs, snatching my coat off the rack before slipping outside. I didn't even bother to lock the door behind me. All I could think of was poor Frank. "I'm on my way." I said, climbing into my car. "Will you be there?"

"Yes ma'am." Officer McNamara assured me. "We'll need you to fill out a report and go through the house to make a list of what's missing."

"Right, okay. I'm coming." I said, hanging up to jab the key into the ignition and turn the car on. I pulled away from Fortuna and drove towards the gates. Who would break into my house? Oh God, had they hurt Frank Langella? A sudden and unbidden thought of finding him nailed to something burst into my head. The gates couldn't open fast enough for me.

With my heart threatening to burst out of my fucking throat, I reached over to pick up my cell again. My fingers trembled as I got my phone unlocked and dialed Charley. The phone rang for a while, but there was no answer, and we hadn't gotten around to setting up his voicemail. Fuck. I tried one more time before I dialed my sister. "Mimi?"

"What's wrong?"

"The police called, a-and someone broke into my house. They haven't seen Frank—" I said, panic threatening to overwhelm me. "I'm on my way from Fortuna."

Miranda sucked in a sharp breath. "I'm on my way." She said. "Frank's gonna be okay. He's a tough kitty." She promised me, moving around on her end. "Take a breath. Drive safe."

I inhaled deeply, trying to calm my jangled nerves. "Drive safe." I repeated. "Okay. Okay, I'll see you soon." I said, dropping the phone onto my lap.

The drive slid by in a blur, but it still felt like it took too long to get home. My heart dropped from my throat into my stomach. There were two black-and-white cop cars parked outside my house, lights flashing lazily and spilling blue-and-red lights across the front of my home. The last time I'd seen cop cars outside of my house was the night they showed up to tell us about our father's accident.

I jerked the car to a halt and climbed out. "Frank!" I called, starting for the house when a burly officer in a black uniform tried to cut into my path. "I'm Abigail Braden, this is my house! I need to find my cat!" I said, ducking around him to start towards the porch. "Frank? Come on, kitty cat!"

A small, weak meow echoed from under the porch. "Frank!" I dove to my knees, ignoring the jolt that went all the way up into my hips to peer under the steps. "Frank?"

There was another meow coming from the shadows of the house. My heart throbbed. He wasn't coming towards me, and I could only make out his faint outline. I blinked back tears and started to forward into the crawlspace. "Frank Langella, it's me, baby." I said, stretching my fingers out towards him. "It's okay, it's gonna be okay."

"Abby! I'm her sister, let me through!"

I turned my head towards the sound of Miranda's voice. "He's under the porch, Mi!" I turned back to Frank, inching forward as he continued to meow. "It's okay, Frank Langella, it's okay."

He butted his head and his nose against my fingers as soon as I was close enough. A tremor went through him and into my palm. Panic filled my chest, the small space and the darkness felt too close. Now that I was close enough to him, I could smell something metallic.

Fingers wrapped around one of my ankles. "I got you, you're okay." Miranda said. "How's he doing?"

"He's scared— I smell blood, Miranda." I choked out, blinking back the burning in my eyes. "I'm gonna try to pull him out, but I—I don't want to hurt him if he's—"

"Breathe." Miranda said before she barked back at the officers. "Hey, we need some help here!"

I took a breath of dank air and tried not to gag. Fuck. "Okay, okay, I got you." I said, getting my hands around his small body. I ignored the warm, slick sensation against my palms, and started to squirm backwards. "I got him!"

I pulled back from under the porch, barely feeling the thump against the back of my head as I sat up too soon. Frank nuzzled into me, meowing as he bumped his head against my chin and shoulder. Blood matted and darkened the fur of his back. "Blood—where's the blood coming from?" I choked out.

Miranda crawled closer, raising her hands to run her finger over his fur, helping me look for the wound. "Christ, Christ!" She jerked her hands back. "It's not his blood, Abby, it's not his!"

Not his? Then who the hell's was it?

There was blood under my fingernails. As hard as I'd scrubbed my hands in the vet's bathroom, there was still a spot deep beneath the nail, along the nail bed. I'd been staring at it for over an hour. The world had narrowed to that one sliver of blood. My surroundings had faded, the noise getting lost in the ringing building in my ears.

"Abby?"

"Hmm?"

"Hey, look at me." Miranda bent down to peer up into my face, blotting out the blood sliver. "I need you to take a breath." She showed me the coke can in her hand before placing it against the back of my neck. I hadn't even been aware of her finding a vending machine.

I took a breath and focused on the cool sensation against my skin. Shutting my eyes, I curled my fingers against my palms, and just tried to regulate for a second. The anxiety buzzing through my body ebbed and I dropped my chin in a nod. "I'm okay."

"I know." She said, removing the can from my neck to pop the tab. "Drink." She breathed out, placing the can in my hand.

I drank. Blowing out a breath, I lowered the can and reached up to wipe my face with the back of my hand. "Has the vet come out yet?"

"Not yet." Miranda sighed, slipping her arm along the back of my seat. "I saw a few police officers and a plain clothes go back though."

I nodded lamely. None of that mattered to me. I just wanted Frank back. I just needed to hold him and know he was going to be okay. "Can you get me my phone?" I mumbled.

Miranda shifted around to dig it out of her pocket. She must have grabbed it from the car at some point, but I was having trouble remembering anything past pulling Frank out from under the porch. "Here." She said, putting it in my hand. "Don't think about it right now, but I called Mom."

I blinked at her. "Wait, you called Mom?" My shoulders drooped, that was about as much energy I could muster for that little revelation. I'd have to call her back later. I wanted Charlemagne. I shut my eyes as his cell rang. No answer. A tremor of anxiety ran through me, rattling the can in my other hand.

I tried Fortuna. Tears prickling in my eyes as I listened to the phone ring. When was he going to come home? I started to call again when Miranda touched my knee. I glanced up as a woman stepped into the lobby in dress slacks, a pressed shirt, and dark blazer. Plain Clothes?

I slipped my phone into my pocket and sat up as she approached us. "Do you know anything about Frank?" I blurted out.

The woman's features softened. "The vet says he's fine. She gave him something for his anxiety and he let her scrape the blood out of his fur." She moved to settle in the seat next to mine, leaning forward to place her elbows on her knees. "Miss Braden, I'm Detective Jennifer Holden, I came down from Baton Rouge to help the locals on a case they're working."

I bopped my head in a nod. "Gemma." I mumbled. "And Darlene, right?"

Detective Holden nodded slowly. "Did you know them?"

"We went to high school with Gemma. She was really sweet." I sniffed, reaching up with the back of my hand to wipe my eyes. "I'm their type and that's why you're here, right?" I glanced over at her. "Brunette, big hips. I look like them."

"It crossed my mind, yes." Detective Holden admitted. "We're considering the possibility that the perpetrator went to your home with the intention of hurting you, and when they didn't find you, they trashed your house." She said. "The other possibility is, is that it was just an overzealous burglar. Were there any valuables in the house?"

I shook my head slowly. "No, not really. Nothing worth stealing." I sniffed again. "Where did the blood come from?"

"We're working on that." She assured me, clasping her hands together. "Miss Braden, have you noticed anything strange lately? Anyone following you around? Near your house?"

I bit my lower lip as the crow passed through my head. Someone had left a threat for me right on my door, a dead bird, and a black rose. Had Gemma and Darlene been marked too? "Last week…" I hesitated to tell her. If the threat was supernatural there wasn't much she could do, but if it was human…? Did I really think it was human?

I was too tired to decide, and I was too tired to lie about it. "Last week, there was someone outside my house. They were gone by the time my, um, friend showed up, but they left a dead bird and some flowers nailed to my door."

"Abby."

I glanced at Miranda. "I didn't want you to worry." I said, tilting my shoulder up in a half-shrug. "My friend got rid of it. There hasn't been anything else since then."

"Miss Braden, why didn't you call the police?"

I bunched up my shoulders. "I was scared and I—" What could the police do that a vampire couldn't? "I didn't think, I just wanted my friend."

Detective Holden exhaled. "Alright, Miss Braden, I'm going to need you to come down to the station to fill out a statement. We can do it in the mor—"

"No." I shook my head. "No, that's okay, we can go now." I said, starting to stand when I blinked. "Wait, Frank?"

"Go, I'll wait here for him." Miranda said, standing to pull me into a quick hug. "I'll meet you at the station later."

I nodded. "Thanks, Mi." I sniffed, letting go of her to follow Detective Holden out into the parking lot. "I didn't, um, bring my car." I mumbled, shaking my head.

"We'll take mine." Detective Holden said, leading me to a black unmarked SUV. She opened the passenger door for me before moving around the hood to climb into the driver's seat.

I hesitated for a brief second, my fingers curled around the doorframe. My eyes flickered over Detective Holden's face. Young. Homely. Dark brown eyes. Slightly too big nose. And shoulder-length dark curls. She looked nice enough. Human. But there was still a small nagging in the back of my head.

"What's wrong?"

I shook my head and climbed into the passenger seat, shutting the door behind me. I slid my seatbelt on and tightened my grip around my messenger bag. "It's been a long night." I muttered.

Detective Holden started the SUV and pulled out of the animal hospital parking lot. "It'll be a little longer and then we can get you home." She promised.

I didn't reply. My energy was lagging now that most of the anxiety had ebbed. I tilted my head against the cool window and watched as the buildings slid away into trees. Trees? How long had we been driving? I glanced at the clock on the dashboard, the green numbers blurred and then came into focus. Twenty minutes? The police department was a ten-minute drive.

I slid my gaze to Detective Holden's profile just as we passed under the light of a streetlamp. It hit her brown eyes like glass, reflecting off the surface in a flash of gold. My heart slammed into my throat, and I jerked up in my seat. Not human. Not human. Not human.

"What's wrong, Miss Braden?"

I sucked in a harsh breath, the sound coming out as a wheeze. "Stop—Stop the car!" I choked out, tugging at my seat belt as she raised a hand to calm me down. "I'm gonna be sick—stop the fucking car!"

Detective Holden slammed on the brake. "Christ, get the window—"

I ignored her, slamming my shoulder into the door as I spilled out of my front seat. I hit my knees and scrambled up. I ran full tilt, ignoring the detective as she called my name. I glanced back once to find her gaining on me and tripped. I hit the ground hard, the sleeve of my coat ripping and scraping apart my skin. I smelled blood.

"Miss Braden! Stop!"

I scrambled with my bag, wrapping my hand around the bottle of Holy Water as she covered the ground between us with growing speed. She reached for me just as I got the cap up and squeezed, spraying her square in the face.

She hissed and jerked back, steam curling from her skin, but it didn't bubble. "I really, really, wish you hadn't done that." Holden snarled, her lips curling up over her human teeth as her face reddened and bubbled in patches.

"Fuck—" She reared back, slamming her fist down against my temple before I even got the rest of the sentence out of my mouth.

Stars exploded in my vision and darkness followed a second later.