Chapter Eleven

"I really wish you would have been more careful with her, Ms. Holden."

"She ran. I had to stop her."

"She's going to bruise. Charlemagne will not be pleased."

I stirred at Charlemagne's name and that voice. Familiar. I liked that voice. My lids fluttered; my heart throbbed in time with the ache in my head. "Hoffman?" I slurred.

"I'm here, my dear." Julian Hoffman's voice grew closer, his fingers whispered across my forehead. "I must apologize for this. Ms. Holden was instructed to bring you here, not brutalize you."

I made a little noise. It hurt too much to open my eyes, but I forced myself to. My head swam, nausea rolling through my stomach. What was my agent doing here? "Where's here?" I managed, trying to compress Julian's face into one image.

"My office. It was agreed it would be neutral ground."

Neutral ground? "Neutral ground for what?" I mumbled, squeezing my eyes shut again to stop the dizzy spell.

Hoffman shifted—if we were in his office, I must have been spread out on his couch— "Miss Braden, you might not be aware, but outside of being an agent, I work with our Council. As does Detective Holden in a different capacity. A member of the Council is here to speak with you about Charlemagne."

Charley? I grasped the side of the couch and tried to sit up, but my head spun, and I quickly dropped back down. "What's wrong?"

"Here." His voice was close again. "I want you to drink this. It will ease some of your discomfort." He reached under my head carefully to lift it.

I took a sip of warm, sweet liquid. Lavender tea with a hint of something I couldn't place. My lids fluttered as the throbbing in my head eased to a dull ache. "Thank you." I mumbled, my stomach easing. I swept my gaze over Julian's familiar face. He had been Turned in his early fifties, and gray still streaked his head of thick black hair. He was impressively tall and very thin in a way that always reminded me of Peter Cushing from the old Hammer Horror films. "What's wrong with Charlemagne, Mr. Hoffman?"

"Have you started without me?"

I glanced over my shoulder at the doorway as a man in a black cape and top hat swept into the room. He whipped the cape off with a flourish and settled it over the back of Julian's desk before he settled into the other man's seat. He took his top hat off and placed it on a pile of edited manuscript pages. He was young. Barely into his twenties when he'd been Turned. Strawberry blonde curls framed a face that was less handsome and more pretty. His eyes were like blue spheres of glass.

He looked young, but there was a power to him. An age you could feel in the weight of his eyes. "Well?" He said, arching one of his brows.

"I was just about to inform Miss Braden of your interest in talking to her, Master Valentine." Julian said, standing to his full height. "Miss Braden, this is Anton Valentine, he's an investigator of sorts for the council. He's here to ask you about the murders."

I nodded slowly, still eyeing Valentine. "So, it was vampires."

"One vampire, we believe." Detective Holden said, stepping into my peripheral. "She received an omen. Black bird pinned through with a rose."

"Not exactly a token of affection." Valentine hissed through his teeth before his blue eyes rolled towards me. "Come here. Sit."

I glanced at Julian with an arched brow. "Do I look like a dog, or something?" I muttered, shifting to put my feet on the floor.

"I didn't see a collar." Julian grumbled out of the side of his mouth, dropping me a wink before he held his hand out to help me up.

Ducking my head to hide the smile on my face, I took his hand and straightened. There was a brief flash of dizziness, but it passed quickly, and I was able to settle into the chair across Valentine on my own. "What do you want to know?"

Valentine leaned forward to place his elbows on the desk and steeple his fingers. "What is your relationship with Monsieur DiBaptiste?"

I blinked at him. What did that have to do with the dead girls? "We're partners. I write for him, he patrons me."

"Anything else?"

My cheeks warmed. "We're together. Lovers, kind of, but it's new." I said, bunching my shoulders up around my ears. "Why?"

Valentine studied my face. "I'm sure you're aware, by now, of the similarities between you and the poor souls found by the police?" He went on after I nodded. "We are more than certain that is not a coincidence. What we want to know is if the person responsible is a rogue vampire that Charlemagne has simply failed to take care of, or if he has gone rogue himself."

I jerked up in my seat to blink at him. "Charlemagne wouldn't kill anyone." I snapped at him.

"You don't know his reputation then."

I twisted around in my seat to glare up at Detective Holden. "His reputation? I know Charlemagne. He's not behind this." I retorted, my voice pitching. "And furthermore, what fucking reason would he have to kill a girl like Gemma Thibodeaux?"

"Perhaps you rejected him." Valentine said, meeting my gaze head on when I turned to glare at him. "He's killed girls for less."

That jerked me to my feet, a cold sliver of ice slamming into the pit of my stomach. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

Valentine moved, bearing down on me, and forcing me back to my chair in seconds. "Do not raise your voice to me, human." He snarled, baring his teeth down at me.

"Master Valentine—" Before Julian could finish his sentence, there was a crash from somewhere outside of the office. Wood splintering as it struck something.

"Abigail!"

I cringed away from Valentine to twist around in my seat. "Char—" Valentine wrapped his fingers around my chin and jerked my face forward so that I was facing him again, the movement was rough, hard enough to give me whiplash.

"I wasn't done speaking to you." He hissed when the door to Julian's office crashed open.

Charlemagne was in my line of sight a second later, palpable rage trembling through him as he snatched Valentine away by the back of his coat and threw him across the room. Books and papers flew into the air as the other vampire slammed into one of Julian's bookcases. "No, you are done." He rumbled before kneeling in front of me.

I watched his features change. From predator to my Charlemagne in seconds. While the blue returned to his eyes, it was only a thin ring around his pupils. "Are you well, mon coeur?" He murmured, raising a hand to brush his fingers over the tender, bruised skin on my temple. "Who did this to you?"

Swallowing, I pointed to Detective Holden, before leaning forward to put my arms around his shoulders. My neck and head were aching, and I was pretty sure I'd have a hand shaped bruise wrapped around my lower jaw. "I tried to call you." I mumbled, shutting my eyes as tears welled in them and spilled down my face.

Charlemagne put his arms around me and lifted me easily from my seat, wrapping my legs around his waist to carry me. "I'm taking her home."

"Put her down, DiBaptiste—"

"Do not test me, I am seconds from tearing your head from your neck, dhampir." He hissed, hurling the word dhampir around like a curse.

I shut out everything but the scent of him in my nose. I didn't care if he killed all of them if he took me home. I was beyond exhausted. I tightened my grip on him, crossing my ankles at the small of his back. "I wanna go home, Charley."

Charlemagne turned his head to nuzzle into me. "I know, my love, mon coeur, I'm going to take you home now."

"Charlemagne—"

"I trusted you, Monsieur Hoffman." He snapped, turning towards Julian's voice. "We will have words about this."

"Charlemagne." Valentine growled, the timbre of his voice tightening my spine, and forcing me to open my eyes, wanting to keep him in my line of sight. He had started to cross the room towards us, the blue of his eyes eaten by black. "If you leave now—"

Charlemagne bared his teeth, a snarl vibrating through him. "I don't care." He hissed. "If you wish to speak to me, or Abigail, you will find us at Fortuna."

Julian stepped between us and Valentine. "Perhaps, we should allow them to go for now, Master Valentine. We do not need any more incidents tonight, do we?"

Valentine hissed through his teeth. "Walk them out, Jennifer." He snapped. "I will be at Fortuna as soon as the sun sets tomorrow."

"Fine." Charlemagne bit back at him, starting out of Julian's office. He carried me through the familiar, warm halls of Julian's house and out onto the veranda just as my sister started up the steps with the aluminum baseball bat she usually kept in her car.

Miranda skid to a halt, the bat still raised. "Oh, thank god." She breathed out. "Is she okay?" She asked, lowering the bat to peek around him and up into my face. "Oh my god, who did that?"

I tilted my chin on Charlemagne's shoulder to look up at Detective Holden. "She punched me."

"You threw holy water in my face."

Miranda lifted the bat again before I could retort. "I want your fucking badge number, lady." She snapped. "I will be filing a report."

Detective Holden rolled her eyes. "I'll see you tomorrow evening, Miss Braden." She said, turning on her heel to head back into Julian's house, shutting the door behind her.

Miranda made an outraged noise at Holden's back before following us down the steps towards her gray sedan. "What the fuck is going on around here?" She breathed out, moving ahead of us to open the passenger door. "Why did she take you here and not the police station?"

"Vampire stuff."

"Abby—"

"I'm serious." I cut her off, too tired to play pretend. "Can you just show her so she'll believe me?" I mumbled, tucking my head back against Charlemagne's shoulder. "I'm tired."

Charlemagne hugged me tighter. "Shut your eyes." I did as he said, only feeling a slight rush of wind against my face when he presumably moved. "Sufficient?"

"What. The. Fuck." Miranda said, somewhere behind me. "How did you do that?"

"I told you." I mumbled, nuzzling into the side of Charlemagne's neck. "He's a vampire."

Charlemagne made a little noise, but the tension slid from his shoulders. "You weren't supposed to tell anyone, Writer."

I made a noise back at him. "She's my sister. It doesn't count." I said. "She didn't believe me anyways."

There was a moment of silence. "I'm sorry." Miranda said, her voice softening. "I believe you now. So, what's going on?"

I sighed to myself, starting to shift in Charlemagne's arms. I was prepared for him to put me down so I could climb into the passenger seat, but he held me tighter and tutted at me. "If you move around like that, you'll distract me." He murmured, his voice low against my ear as he dipped suddenly.

Blinking, I realized he'd folded himself into the front seat of Miranda's car and was arranging me on his lap so I wasn't straddling him but was able to curl up against his chest. Behind him, Frank Langella meowed from his cat carrier. "Oh, Frank." I mumbled, scrunching up my face as tears refilled my eyes. "Is he okay?" I asked, as Miranda climbed into the driver's seat.

"He's fine. The vet gave him some extra treats and a prescription for an anti-anxiety medication." Miranda said, tossing the bat on the floor of the backseat before she pressed the start button. "Speaking of, do you have your meds on you?"

"I haven't been taking them." I admitted, tilting my shoulder when she shot me a look. "I felt better." I mumbled, which is the trap you tend to fall into when you have to take medication for your mental health. You feel better, you stop taking your meds, you don't feel better anymore. But I'd felt good for a long time. Not one panic attack until tonight.

Charlemagne slid his fingers through my hair. "What is this medication for?" He asked softly, tilting my head back to study my face. "You did not tell me."

My features softened for him. "I'm sorry." I mumbled, studying his face through a haze of tears. "I've always had a lot of anxiety, but it got worse after my dad died, so I started taking pills to just...balance out."

"She couldn't leave the house. She couldn't drive her car. Or go to work. She couldn't write. It was debilitating." Miranda added, briefly meeting my gaze before she pulled away from Julian's home and onto the main road. "You're making it less than it was. We lost you for years." She tightened her grip on the steering wheel.

I winced and burrowed into the warmth of Charlemagne's chest. But I couldn't argue with her. I'd lost me too to the overwhelming and crippling fear and worry. Of things that could go wrong. The pills were sitting in my medicine cabinet. My messenger bag— "Oh. I think Detective Holden has my stuff. I dropped my messenger bag when I was running. I don't know where my cell phone went."

Charlemagne touched my cheek, slipping his thumb beneath my eye to catch stray tears. "I will get your things." He sighed, studying my eyes even as he addressed Miranda. "I will make sure she takes her medication."

I opened my mouth to protest when he bent his head to cut me off with a kiss. "Don't argue, ma cherie." He said, tilting his chin to kiss my nose. I shut my mouth and savored his nearness. "Good girl."

"Thank you." Miranda sighed. "Okay, now will someone tell me how we ended up all the way in Baton Rouge?"

Baton Rouge? I blinked. It hadn't reconciled for me that being in Julian's home office meant being in Julian's home in Baton Rouge. A good hour and a half away from home. Detective Holden was steadily climbing my shit list. "How did you find me?"

"I always know how to find you." Charlemagne murmured, nuzzling into the top of my head. "I have the scent of you in my nose." He sighed. "Pardon-moi, Abigail, Marcus took my phone when we arrived at his party. I didn't see your missed calls until he returned it to me. I went to Fortuna, but you were gone, and Miss Braden was seconds from breaking in through the front window."

I glanced at my sister with raised brows. "You were?"

She gave me a half-shrug. "It's Miranda, vampire man." She muttered. "And yeah, I went to the police station, and they said you'd never made it in and that Detective Holden had gone off-duty hours before." She shook her head. "It was weird. I needed help. I didn't really trust the police at that point, and I couldn't call Mom, so I went looking for your Charley. We were probably only minutes behind you."

"You rode in the car together?"

"Oui. I nearly came out of my skin wanting to get to you, but Miranda insisted on coming with me to your rescue, and I could not well enough leave her alone." Charlemagne said. "I had to make sure she would be safe. She also drives like a maniac, it was worrisome, and I say that as someone who is immortal."

I pressed my lips together to swallow a hysterical giggle. I was trying to imagine what they looked like riding together in the same car. In the same compressed space. My mind was conjuring up images of buddy cop comedies or sitcoms where opposites end up roommates. The Nurse and the Vampire.

Turning my face into Charlemagne's chest, the giggle burst from my mouth before breaking into a choked sob. "That's very sweet." I managed, lifting my face after a moment to press a kiss to his chin. "Thank you for rescuing me."

"Always, mon coeur." He murmured, dipping his chin to kiss me gently. "What can I do to help?" He asked softly, brushing the tears from my cheeks. "How can I make you feel better?"

Tell me a story. It was on the tip of my tongue, but my thoughts were jumbled, and spinning out in a million different directions. As much as I craved comfort, there were other things we needed to talk about. "They wanted to talk about the dead girls." I mumbled, glancing from his face to Miranda. "That was my agent, Julian's, home, his office is inside. He's a vampire too. And Holden brought me there because... because they thought it would be easier to talk to me there."

It wasn't. I'd barely started digesting the entirety of the night, let alone that awful and thankfully short conversation. Miranda was absorbing things at a much quicker rate than I was. Her knuckles blanched as they tightened around the steering wheel. "Jesus, Mary, and Fuck. They had their throats ripped out."

"Most likely a vampire, yes." Charlemagne agreed, slipping his fingers through the end of my hair. "They noticed what I did. Those girls looked like you."

I blinked at him. "You knew about them?" I breathed out, brows bending. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"I did not want it to touch you." He said, studying my gaze. "I have had Nickolas and Beau out every night searching for any interlopers. I made the mistake of thinking you would be safe inside Fortuna for the night. It did not occur to me that you might leave my home." His brows bent as his features softened. "Live with me."

I blinked again, sitting up a little to study his face. "Wait, what?"

"Live with me, Abigail." Charlemagne murmured. "I want the scent of you in every room of my home. I want to wake up to you every evening. I want to take care of you and make sure you are safe." His mouth softened into a smile. "Frank Langella is welcome too, of course."

I stared at him. There were too many things tumbling around inside of me. Too many raw emotions. And I was too exhausted to make such a monumental decision. I leaned up to kiss his mouth gently. "I'm not saying no." I sniffled. "But can you ask me again tomorrow?"

Charlemagne bent his head to cover my face in kisses, from my eyes to my mouth. "Of course, mon coeur." He said, nuzzling into me. "Let us call it a standing offer for when you're ready."

Warmth unfurled in my chest. I just couldn't understand how Valentine and Holden could believe Charlemagne would kill anyone. You don't know his reputation then. He's killed girls for less. There were parts of his past he didn't talk about, things hidden. We're all allowed to have secrets, aren't we?

"What are you thinking about?" Charlemagne murmured, his gaze sweeping over my face.

I bit my lower lip. "Valentine said… he said you had a reputation that I didn't know about." I mumbled.

Charlemagne stared down at me before his lips pulled back into a casual bared tooth smile. "The only reputation I have is as a scoundrel and heartbreaker, you know that." He murmured, brushing his thumb along my cheek.

I nodded slowly, but I'd seen his eyes. I'd seen the way he'd pulled back behind them. I couldn't be sure, but I thought my vampire had just lied to me.