Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

Angelo

The coppery taste of Serenity's blood lingered on my lips, and I savored it with each languorous lick of my tongue. As the tingling sensations coursed through me, I could feel my strength returning. My wounds began to heal, as if a wave of power was rolling over me. It was unlike anything I had ever experienced before.

Not even with the Aeternum Stone.

I straightened my back, taking slow, measured breaths as I approached the living room. Despite my determination to push her out of my thoughts, Serenity's intoxicating aura lingered and teased at the edges of my mind. Enough! She was a distraction I couldn't afford to have. Distractions meant I wouldn't be at the top of my game, and in my world, that could prove deadly. Yet her blood called to me like a drug, and I couldn't shake the addiction.

No one would ever take her from me. Not Trystan. Not Keir. Definitely not the police. And if anyone dared to try, I would unleash an unstoppable fury on them that would leave a trail of broken bodies in its wake.

I set those thoughts aside as I entered the living room and saw Detective Louis DuPont standing in front of the marble fireplace. Clad in a tailored blue pinstripe suit that accentuated his athletic build, he turned his piercing blue eyes on me, his gaze intense in the dim light. His dark hair, styled in a neat cascade, added a youthful vigor to his sharp, chiseled features. Despite his relatively modest height, he carried himself with an undeniable command; the man had the sort of presence that filled the room without a word being spoken. His scowl, angry and deadly, flashed as he turned toward me, suggesting I was in for a stormy meeting.

I put on my best plastic smile. "Detective DuPont, to what do I owe the distinct pleasure?"

"Cut the crap, Santi. We need to talk about Serenity Bryce," he growled, his tone accusatory, hatred simmering beneath his words.

"I'm not quite sure who you're referring to," I said, moving to the buffet table. "Drink?" I offered, pouring myself a glass of red wine.

He declined with a curt shake of his head, refusing to play along. "You know damn well who that is. My investigation points directly to you being involved with her disappearance. "

Interesting. Someone had a loose tongue and needed to be silenced—permanently.

Maintaining a neutral expression, I took a small sip of the Chianti. "Allegations require proof, Detective. And I doubt your supposed investigation has any. You seem to be grasping at straws."

His calm facade cracked slightly, a flicker of anger in his eyes. "Don't underestimate me, Santi. The truth has a way of coming out, and I won't stop until I expose you."

I met his gaze levelly. "Then I suggest you focus on facts, not fantasies. When you do, you'll find I have no part in this."

"What about the two murdered girls found in the French Quarter?" His question was designed to catch me off guard. It didn't work.

"Girls? What girls?" I asked innocently.

His jaw clenched, a mixture of frustration and determination. "They were found naked, beaten, and murdered in cold blood. Do you really expect me to believe you know nothing about this?"

"I assure you, Detective, my family is not involved in such barbaric acts. How exactly were they killed?" I asked, hoping he would reveal more. Compulsion was a tempting option, but it came with risks. When I had used it on the police in the past, their behavior had drawn unwanted attention from their superiors, leading to a flurry of questions I thought it best to avoid. Overusing it would only put my family under greater scrutiny.

No. I had other, more subtle ways to extract information .

DuPont hesitated, weighing the consequences of sharing more. "The circumstances surrounding their deaths are...unusual. What's even more intriguing is what we discovered with the bodies." He let the statement linger, a baited hook dangling in front of me.

If I didn't bite, I'd look guilty. "And what might that be?"

DuPont's eyes narrowed slightly, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth, as if he appreciated the game of cat and mouse we were playing. "Curiosity can be a double-edged sword, can't it, Mr. Santi? Let's just say, the details surrounding their unfortunate demise were...intriguing. One of the girls, Nancee Cruise, was a blackjack dealer in your casino. Did you know her?"

He looked at me, waiting for a reaction. I gave him an amused smile. "You don't think I do the hiring of blackjack dealers personally, do you?"

"I suppose not. Well, among the girls' belongings, items were found that raise more questions than answers. Items that could, hypothetically, connect several dots in ways one wouldn't expect. Ways that might conceivably lead to you, Mr. Santi."

I could practically feel him tightening the screws on me, trying to get me to tell him everything. Problem was, honestly? I was as much in the dark on this as he was. I didn't like it.

He paused, letting the implication hang in the air, a silent challenge to see if I would react or divulge any information that confirmed his suspicions. "But of course, I'm sure you wouldn't know anything about peculiar items found at crime scenes. After all, your establishments have quite the reputation for being—exclusive."

Shit. It sounded like someone was going out of their way to frame me and my family. It had to be either Trystan, Keir, or possibly even Maximo. Not Simon—even he wouldn't be dumb enough to do this over a broken bedroom window.

No, this was something else. This had to be some elaborate plan for them to get their hands on Serenity. Something I would never let happen. She was mine.

"I'm sorry you to disappoint you, Detective, but you're wasting your time here. Like I said earlier, my family doesn't have anything to do with the deaths of those poor, unfortunate girls, or with the missing girl." I gave him a curt smile. "If I hear anything, I'll, of course, be certain to pass it along to you."

"See that you do." He gave a nod, more to himself than to me. "Just remember, the longer this takes, the worse it is for everyone involved." He headed toward the front door then glanced over his shoulder. "And as for the girl…let's hope nothing happens to her."

Trust me, nothing will.

After he left, tension hung in the air, a silent acknowledgment of the dangerous game we were both playing.

Enzo entered the living room just as I was pouring myself another glass of wine. "I take it you want me to find out who has been singing to the police?"

I downed the crimson liquid, the burn of the alcohol warming my throat. My thoughts were consumed by Serenity and her blood, how I longed for more. "Yes, find them," I hissed through clenched teeth. "Bring them to me." As I spoke, my hands twitched with the urge to touch her body, to bring her pleasure.

"I will. While you were meeting with DuPont, I set some of my men to find out more about those murdered girls. As soon as I find out anything, I'll report back to you." He glanced at his watch. "I need to leave to meet with my informant right now, actually."

"Ask him about what the police know. Find out what it was that pointed to us."

He nodded curtly and left, and I headed back to my office to research more about these dead girls. Enzo said that they may be part of Simon's stable. Maybe I did have a lead there. Serenity had also been in Simon's clutches briefly. Maybe she saw or heard something. If she did, it could mean she had a target on her back.

I climbed the stairs to return to my office and research the girls. But before I could find any information on them, I came across a missing person report on Serenity, describing her kidnapping at the college. She had been taking her trash out when she'd been abducted. Her roommate, Joy, called tearfully for her to be returned. This was all news to me. Had Simon really become so desperate he'd started kidnapping girls off college campuses? There was more to this story, and I intended to find out what it was.

After Serenity's missing person story, I found newspaper articles briefly mentioning the two murdered girls, but the police reports provided little information. Their names, Nancee Cruise and Stella McClain, were given. They were both young women under the age of twenty-five, following an eerie pattern of unresolved stories. Nancee was discovered in the early morning by a jogger, her body lying between Jackson Square and the Moon Walk, her blonde hair fanned out like a grim halo in the grass near the famed tourist attractions.

Stella's story was equally disconcerting, found as she was by a local fisherman at dawn in City Park, amid the serene setting of ancient oaks and tranquil ponds. Her presence there was also an unnatural blemish on the landscape's beauty, her blonde locks mingling with the morning mist. Close to her was a cryptic note, partially soaked by the morning dew, with an enigmatic message that the police had not yet released to the public.

Their striking resemblance to each other had been noted, and they also bore a remarkable similarity to Serenity. This recurring detail of their blonde hair, now a haunting motif, seemed too pointed to be a mere coincidence. The reports made no real mention of their last known activities, only that they were both last seen at locations not far from where their lives were tragically cut short.

As I stared at Nancee's picture, the memories suddenly came rushing back like a tidal wave, threatening to drown me in a sea of guilt and regret. I remembered her now—a one night stand. She hadn't been part of Simon's stable. She'd been a blackjack dealer at Crimson Stakes. I remembered the way her blood had called to me, the way I had taken her in my arms and sunk my fangs into her soft, yielding flesh. I had tasted her essence, savored it like a fine wine, and then cast her aside.

She was just one of the many such encounters I had in my long life, but I hadn't killed her. Leaving a trail of bodies would stupidly draw attention to me and my family.

As the head of the Santi family, I had a certain reputation to uphold. I couldn't afford to let my past indiscretions come back to haunt me, but it seemed someone was determined to do just that. Was it DuPont who had discovered my secret? Was he trying to frame me for Nancee's murder in some kind of twisted power play?

I stared at Stella McClain's picture. I had no recollection of her being one of my conquests. But there was something about her…I had seen her somewhere…According to Crimson Stakes' personnel records, she'd never worked for me. Maybe I had met her on Bourbon Street at another bar? Or during Mardi Gras? Or possibly Simon's? I could have fucked her, fed on her, and not remembered it, possibly even killed her. But if I had done that, I would have buried her body where no one would have discovered it.

No, this was different. Sloppy. Someone was leaving a trail of dead bodies pointing to me as the killer. I had to find out who was behind these murders and why they were trying to frame me.

As a vampire, I was no stranger to death, but this was different. This was a threat to my family, my power, everything I had built. I wouldn't stand for it. I would hunt down the killer and make them pay for daring to challenge the Santi family.

I pinned my hopes on Enzo and his informant to unearth more clues. The pieces of this particular puzzle were scattered everywhere, and I needed to fit them together before Detective DuPont did.

I needed answers, ones that only the shadows whispered. Picking up my phone, I dialed. Keir answered on the first ring, his voice a calm, cool breeze in the stifling heat of my concerns.

"Santi. I didn't think I would hear from you after the auction." His tone was a combination of annoyance laced with begrudging understanding.

"I wouldn't be calling unless I was forced to, Keir," I growled, cutting straight to the heart of the matter. "I assume you've heard of these two dead girls?"

"I have. Detective DuPont made a house call to me. From what I understand, he also paid a visit to the wolves."

I flipped through the security camera coverage at Crimson Stakes, hunting for past footage of Nancee. According to the newspapers, she had been killed five days ago. "Did you learn anything from him?"

A brief silence followed, not of hesitation but of consideration. "Only that one of the dead girls was a dealer at your Crimson Stakes, and the other was a waitress at Trystan's Lunar Majesty."

I stopped scrolling and sat up. "Was she a wolf?"

"Trystan's not saying. You know how wolves are about protecting their pack."

Maybe Trystan wasn't involved, not if one of his own had been killed. Trystan was fiercely loyal to his pack and didn't kill innocents. I frowned. If it wasn't us, and it wasn't the wolves, perhaps I was talking to the one who had ordered the murders right now .

As if reading my thoughts, Keir sighed. "In case you're wondering, it wasn't me."

"How do I know that's true?"

"I guess you're going to have to trust me."

Like I did at Simon's, when you tried to steal Serenity from me?

I held my tongue, deciding to focus on the matter at hand. "Did you tell DuPont anything about the auction?"

"What, and incriminate myself?" Keir's tone betrayed no surprise, only a readiness to delve into the depths of the problem. "Do you suspect there's more at play here?"

"Exactly. There are connections I can't see yet, chess pieces missing from the board. And there's DuPont, sniffing around like a dog who knows where all the bones are buried," I said, my frustration mounting. "I need your sight, Keir. The kind that sees through the veils in a way that others can't."

His chuckle was soft, almost inaudible, yet it carried the confidence of one who held many cards in his hands. He would definitely deserve a favor from me in the end, but if he thought that favor was Serenity, he would be sorely disappointed. "Your trust in the dark Fae is not misplaced, Angelo. Let's see what we can uncover together. The shadows often speak more truthfully to those willing to listen. This time, however, you will owe me."

"I understand that. I wouldn't be calling if I had anywhere else to turn. The police are getting too close, and I can't afford any missteps. I must warn you, though, if I suspect a betrayal on your part against me, my family, or the Nephilim… "

"Understood." I could hear the note of fear in his voice, much as he tried to hide it. "Give me some time to...consult my sources. I'll find out what I can about the girls and why the police suspect you."

"Thanks, Keir. Like you said, I owe you one." The last thing I wanted was to owe a favor to the dark Fae King. Knowing him, he would try to wiggle something out of me that he wanted, like Serenity or one of the magical objects I possessed, or request I give up some territory to him. He had always wanted Crimson Stakes for its prime location. I might be willing to bargain with a magical object, but Serenity and Crimson Stakes were off the table.

If he pushed for either of those, most likely a war would break out between us. I would die protecting what was mine.

"Perhaps," he said, a hint of amusement in his voice. "But let's not count debts just yet. Talk soon, Santi." His smooth tone didn't do anything to dispel my suspicions.

The call ended, leaving me sitting silently in my office, the weight of the unsolved mystery pressing down on me. At least with Keir now on the hunt, the shadows that obscured the truth might become less impenetrable. I would also soon find out if he was an ally or an enemy.

I went back to studying the security tape at Crimson Stakes, losing all sense of time as I watched Nancee's every movement. She had done her job as a blackjack dealer well—she smiled, dealt cards, and made money for the house. There was some light flirting, but nothing out of the ordinary. I had to be missing something, something right under my nose .

Hurried footsteps pounded down the hallway. Lorenzo burst into my office, panting, his eyes huge. "Sir, Enzo's been attacked. I think…I think he's dying."