Chapter 11

CHAPTER ELEVEN

éTIENNE

October 19, 1765

Maison des Nymphes

Daphne took the pouch from me and opened it with the excitement of a child opening a present. She removed a small glass vial and two squares of parchment. She passed me the vial and, as expected, there were minuscule droplets of quicksilver sliding around inside.

" Drink two hours prior to bleeding , says the first one. Instructions from someone. The handwriting doesn't seem familiar to me. Do you know it?" she asked.

I shook my head. Thick, black script ran jaggedly across the paper. It was either an ill-educated hand, or an educated hand trying to disguise itself.

"What does the second one say?"

"It's an address. I don't recognize it, do you?"

"I know the street. It's at the other end of the city in the plague district." Foreboding snaked through me.

"I thought that area was abandoned." Daphne frowned.

"It was, back when the plague first arrived and people still feared it. Now that the poor have embraced it, they've repopulated the deserted buildings and shops. They call it le Quartier Sanglant. It's the only neighborhood in the city that's inhabited entirely by vampires."

Daphne's mouth dropped open in astonishment.

"I had no idea," she breathed. "The people…the state of things. I wonder how many in Versailles know."

I laughed bitterly. "Many of them, I'd wager. The king certainly does, as well as his closest advisors. They just don't want to admit as much to the rest of the court because they fear a panic, or worse, an uprising."

"An uprising that you already believe is coming," she murmured.

I nodded. "It is inevitable."

She scrubbed her face with her hand and checked her pocket watch.

"We have three and a half hours before sunrise. Do you think that's enough time to make it across town?"

I looked at her warily. "I think I should go alone. If you walk in there, it would be like ringing the dinner bell and I cannot protect you from an entire district hungry for blood, literally and figuratively."

"Then we shall have to be quick and careful," she said. "Face it, étienne, I'm not going to wait in the carriage while you walk into a dangerous situation. It would be easier on both of us if you just accepted that. I recognize the peril, though, so I promise to do exactly as you say."

A hint of desire flickered at the idea of Daphne submitting to me in more ways than one. I dashed it away before it could distract me. I folded my arms across my chest.

"Impossible woman," I sputtered. She was unmoved.

We made our way downstairs and found Josephine in the kitchen with Marie. I kissed them both and stuck a purse full of coins into Josephine's pocket.

"I'm afraid we made a bit of a mess in Brigitte's room," I said. "This should make up for it. Be careful, ma s?ur . If anyone comes asking after me, or Daphne, for that matter, you have not seen us. Understand?"

Josephine nodded, worry etched on her face. I tried to smile.

"Unless it is a very beautiful woman," I said with a wink. "Then, please do send her my way."

Daphne snorted a laugh. "Isn't that how you got yourself into this mess?"

Josephine giggled and hugged her. Daphne left to give us some privacy and stepped out into the night.

"I like her," Josephine whispered. "Don't fuck it up, d'accord? "

I glared at her and followed Daphne to the carriage.

" Quartier Sanglant ," I told the driver. "Quickly, please. We're in a bit of a hurry."

Daphne watched me in the darkness of the carriage, her expression unreadable.

"How long have you been a vampire?" she asked.

Her question took me by surprise. I didn't often speak to others about my turning. Despite appreciating my abilities and accepting my lonely fate, turning was one of my life's low points. I looked on it as a moment of weakness and shame, brought on by the stupidity and impetuousness of unruly youth. It was one evening's mistake that I would be paying back for a thousand lifetimes.

"Twenty years."

"That is before the plague swept Paris," she observed.

"Yes. I was not turned here. And before you ask, no , I did not bring the plague to the city. By the time I returned from my travels abroad, it had already taken hold."

"I did not think—" she defended.

I cut her off. "Yes, you did. I don't blame you. You're not the first to wonder such a thing, particularly because I'm the oldest vampire in the city as far as I know. I contracted the disease while traveling through Hungary. It took hold in that region long before and has been slowly spreading east for some time now. The wars that Louis has been fighting all over eastern Europe have advanced the spread faster than la grande verole, thanks to all the eager soldiers."

" La grande verole? The great pox?" Daphne sat forward. "Syphilis!"

I arched a brow. "…yes? What about it?"

"Quicksilver!" she said with excitement. "Don't you see? Quicksilver is a treatment for syphilis."

I could see where she was going with this, but it still wasn't enough.

"Yes, but anyone can get their hands on quicksilver these days, not just physicians. Any corner chemist will have it."

She sat back, defeated. "Yes, you're right. I was hoping we could match the handwriting on the instructions to a receipt—maybe a signature, or a prescription. Perhaps a chemist would recognize it. But that would take too much time—questioning every chemist and physician in the city. The quicksilver and the ring seem to be dead ends for us at the moment. So far, we know that someone murdered Jeanne and stole her ring. It's possible that same person is familiar with vampiric poisons, knows Josephine's maison is connected to you, and sent Brigitte after you. Oh, and that if it is the same person, they want you dead."

"You don't think it was The Order?"

She shook her head. "I considered it at first, but it doesn't fit. They might want you out of the way, but they wouldn't chance sending another agent into my assignment. It would be too messy. Much of their power lies in their ability to operate in shadow, so they only authorize operations that can be easily and thoroughly covered up. Besides, if they suspect that you're under my protection at the moment, they won't run the risk of antagonizing me."

I was taken aback by the matter-of-fact way she spoke about her abilities. Given her marriage, I was sure her confidence had been hard-won, and I felt a peculiar sense of pride in thinking that she didn't fear the men in The Order—rather, that they should be intimidated by her. That was the truth. I smiled.

"Am I under your protection?"

Her eyes narrowed. "When it comes to The Order, you are. At the moment. And I shouldn't need to remind you, but that doesn't mean you're safe from me indefinitely."

I chuckled. "Promises, promises."

We sat in companionable silence for a while. Finally, the carriage came to a stop across from a dark alley.

"Put on your cloak," I instructed. "Pull the hood up and do not remove it for any reason. Do not speak. Do not touch anything. Do not go anywhere without me. In fact, do not leave my side. If things should go wrong for any reason—well, let's just hope they don't."

Fear clawed at me. Certainly not for my own safety, but for Daphne's. This was a terrible idea.

"Are you ready?" I asked. Last chance to wise up and back out, Duchesse.

She nodded once, steel in her eyes. I should have known.

I sighed, resigned.

She pulled her hood up, obscuring her face. I was less concerned about her being seen and more concerned with her being smelled. Beneath the mouth-watering orange blossom and vanilla fragrance wafted the sweetness of her blood. At this time of night, I hoped most would have already found their food and entertainment. Dawn would soon approach.

We stepped from the carriage and hurried down the alley. Daphne clung to my arm and a thrill went through me, though I suspected it was less to do with any fear or desire she felt and more to do with the fact that she could not see as well as I in the near blackness of night. I could hear carousing down a few side streets and smelled blood, both fresh and stale. We passed by a knot of people outside a tavern and I picked up our pace. Just as we cleared the group, a man called out to me.

"Monsieur! Fancy sharing your bite?" He cackled drunkenly. A few others turned.

"Not tonight, my good man," I tried jovially. Daphne stiffed beside me.

"Aw, come on," he jeered. "Be a sport. She looks tasty and I haven't had anything this evening. I won't take too much, love."

"I'm afraid I'm too hungry to share and I've already paid for the privilege," I said. I moved Daphne along as quickly as I could without drawing more notice. Unfortunately, the man followed with two of his friends.

"That's not very brotherly," he sang. The others laughed.

Nearly jogging, Daphne and I made a sharp right down a narrow street. Only one window at the end of the street flickered with candlelight, casting a dim pool of dingy amber on a stone wall. A dead end. Merde.

I pushed Daphne behind me and faced the men. Two would be no problem. Three would be troublesome. I could smell their newly turned blood, which meant I had the advantage of increased speed and strength. They would probably fight recklessly, as most new vampires do, which made them dangerously unpredictable. I leaned casually on my walking stick, affecting an air of nonchalance.

" Mes amis ," I began, silk in my tone. "Surely you don't want to fight me for this old slip of a thing? She's an aging widow, too wizened to survive more than one bite in an evening. Come, take my advice—there are far better meals wandering around tonight."

"But she's already right here," one of them said. "That's dead convenient."

The three guffawed uproariously at the wordplay.

I sighed. "So, you aim to take her from me?"

"If you're too selfish to share, then we'll have to teach you some manners," the drunkest said. "Some brotherly love, if you will."

One of them lunged at me. I sidestepped his charge and tripped him with my walking stick. Before I could turn to him, the other two were upon me. One punched my stomach and the air left me. I doubled over with a wheeze. The other grabbed my hair and hauled me up, landing a punch on my jaw. I whirled around and grabbed one man's arm, breaking it easily. He screamed and fell to the ground. The second aimed another blow at my face, but I saw it coming and ducked. His fist smashed into the stone wall behind me and he shrieked. He got back up but froze, stunned by something behind us.

I turned to see Daphne pirouetting gracefully away from the first vampire, then bringing her fist up to smash him squarely in the nose. He grunted with the impact but reached out again, trying to grab the blonde curls that had come undone from beneath her hood. She leaned back, using his momentum against him, and dodged out of the way while he fell forward. Then, with a speed that rivaled any vampire I'd encountered, she jumped on his back, yanked one arm behind him and bent it upward in an immobilizing hold. She flicked her empty wrist and a thin wooden stake slid from her sleeve into her palm. She held it threateningly above the prone vampire's back—exactly above his heart. The whole fight was over in a matter of seconds.

" Enough! " she yelled. "étienne, are you all right?"

" Mais oui ."

Fierce energy rolled off her crouched form. I'd never desired another woman more.

"You!"

She jutted her chin at the man standing next to me. He cradled his broken hand and looked at her fearfully.

"Pick up your friend with the broken arm over there and go now, or this one is dust."

She started to slowly sink the wooden stiletto into the vampire's flesh, and he yelled a stream of profanities that shocked even me.

They scrambled down the street at a dead run, not daring to look back.

"Now," she said to the man. "My friend and I have some questions and I think you're in an excellent position to answer."

"Get drained," he growled.

Daphne tsked and twisted the stake in further. The man howled in pain.

"First question: what do you know of Madame de Pompadour?"

"Who?"

"The king's mistress. The rumors say that she was killed by your kind."

"I don't know anything about that!" The man screamed again. Tendrils of smoke began to curl from his wound.

"No? Because we followed the trail of a bleeder to an address around here. Rue des Oubliés . What do you know of it?" Daphne leaned on the man's arm.

"It's nearby, but no one goes there!" he shouted. "Please, release me. It burns— putain de merde— it burns!"

"Why does no one go there?" she demanded.

"Ease up and I'll tell you. I swear, I'll tell you," he gritted out. By the look on his face, he seemed close to passing out.

She lessened the pressure on his arm and slid the stake partway out. The man panted.

"No one goes there because it's haunted," he gasped.

Daphne leaned forward again and hissed at him. "Do you think I'm stupid? Haunted? There's no such thing."

"Just like there's no such thing as vampires?" he wheezed with a laugh. "Look, lady, I don't know if it's real ghosts or not. People don't go there because they say it's haunted. Strange noises. Awful smells. Unnatural darkness. It's a bad place."

"How do we get there?"

"Three blocks down, then turn right. You'll know it when you come to it."

Daphne released the man's arm and pulled the stake from his back. Brandishing it in front of her, she stood and took her pistol out and held it aloft for good measure. The man got to his feet slowly, threw a curse at the both of us and hobbled away. As he turned the corner to the street, I heard him mutter.

" May the ghosts take you ."