Paris After Dark (2 page)

Rachel stepped through the archway into a nightmare. Walls of human remains rose from the floor nearly touching the ceiling. Faces of people who’d lived long ago stared at her from empty eye sockets, their bones neatly arranged in macabre designs around their skulls.

Suddenly the room was too warm. Rachel pulled at her coat as her heart slammed into her ribs. The freak had lured her into the catacombs. There were miles of tunnels down here, according to the brochures she’d picked up in the airport. No one would hear her scream this far below the surface. They wouldn’t even find her body, if he didn’t want it to be found. So much for discovering his hiding place and reporting it to the police. She had to get out of here.

Rachel took a step back – right into a hard male body. She couldn’t think. Couldn’t breathe. For a moment, fear kept her paralysed, then panic set in. A large pale hand covered her mouth before Rachel could draw breath and scream. Her lighter burned her fingers and she dropped it, plunging them into darkness.

She elbowed the man and tried to smash his nose with her head, but only succeeded in hitting his chest. Rachel braced, expecting a fist to the face. The man made no attempt to strike her. Why should he? He had her right where he wanted her.

A warm breath brushed her neck. His jagged teeth flashed in her mind. He was going to bite her just like he’d bitten the woman and there wasn’t a damn thing she could do to stop him.

“No.” The plea came out garbled behind his hand, but Rachel knew he understood. “Don’t.” She jerked her head and only succeeded in hurting herself.

“Stop fighting,” he hissed, tightening his grip.

Her breath rushed past his long fingers as she bit him.

“Ow, stop that!” He pressed his face closer.

Rachel tensed and began to tremble as she waited to feel the slice of those fake fangs on her flesh. The pain never came. Heat from the body holding her began to sink into her bones. A moment later firm lips brushed her ear lobe and she quivered. What was he playing at?

Nuzzling her hair, he inhaled. “American. Figures,” he said with distaste in a low French accent. “You must have a death wish,
mademoiselle.”

“You’re trespassing,” Gabriel Dumont said, ignoring the smell of wild flowers coming from the woman’s hair. He resisted the urge to bury his nose in her dark tresses once more. Instead, Gabriel released her. She scurried away. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a flashlight. Not that he needed it to see, but he had no doubt she did. “The catacombs are closed. You want to tell me what you’re doing down here?”

Her soft Asian eyes narrowed as she carefully took in his appearance. The woman wasn’t as young as he’d initially thought. Mid to late thirties if he had to guess. The press of her warm lithe body had thrown him off. He was glad to be wrong. Time seasoned a woman. Though it had little meaning to creatures such as himself. Gabriel kept still, trying to look harmless, though he was anything but.

She opened her mouth to reply, but stopped. He could tell by her expression that she was trying to come up with a plausible story for her presence. Smart and beautiful. “Do you work here?” she asked, attempting to commandeer the conversation. This was a woman used to being in charge.

Gabriel’s lips quirked. “Why else would I be here?” It wasn’t like she knew this was the entrance to the Otherworld. Was she simply a tourist trying to sneak in to the catacombs after dark? There were plenty who tried and succeeded. Not all got out to tell of their adventures.

“I was attacked by a man. He came down here.” She ran a trembling hand through her hair.

He arched a brow. “And you followed him?” Gabriel corrected his earlier assessment of her. The woman was clearly insane.

“He took something of mine,” she said softly. “I want it back.” She glanced around the cavern, her gaze hopping from skull to skull. “Did you happen to see anyone else down here?”

“No.” He shook his head. “Only you.” Gabriel watched her scan the area. She didn’t miss much. He rarely met humans who paid close attention to their surroundings. That’s what made them such easy prey. “What did he take, miss? Miss … ?”

“Rachel Chang. And you are?” she asked, avoiding his question.

She was good at changing conversational direction. He’d give her that. “My name is Gabriel Dumont.”

“Can I see your eyes, Mr Dumont?” she asked, taking another step back.

Gabriel blinked at her question, then slowly raised the flashlight beam to his face.

“They’re blue,” Rachel said, then visibly relaxed.

He frowned. “I know. Is that a problem?”

Rachel waved the question away. “I need to notify the police. There’s been a murder.”

“I thought you said you were attacked and robbed,” he said, feeling suddenly uneasy.

“I was. The man who attacked me killed a woman.”

Gabriel ran a hand over his face. So much for spending a quiet evening at home. “Let’s start at the beginning, shall we?”

She groaned in frustration. “We don’t have time. We have to get back to the scene.”

“At least tell me what he took.”

“My St Michael’s medal.”

That hadn’t been the answer Gabriel expected. Diamonds, yes. Gold maybe. But not a worthless medal. “They are easy to obtain. Allow me to get you another.”

“Thanks, but it wouldn’t be the same.” Rachel forced herself to concentrate on getting out of the catacombs. She was sure Gabriel hadn’t been the man who’d attacked her, but the place was making her uneasy. She rolled her shoulders, but the sensation of being watched didn’t go away. The killer was nearby. Maybe he was waiting for an opportunity to attack Gabriel. She wasn’t going to be responsible for another death tonight.

“Let’s get out of here,” she said.

“Right this way, madam.” He motioned for her to go ahead of him.

“After you,” she said.

Rachel was huffing from climbing the stairs by the time they reached street level. Gabriel wasn’t even out of breath. She stared at him, getting a better look now that they were under a street light. Gabriel’s raven-coloured hair framed a boxer’s face. His features were several fights past handsome, but strangely intriguing. Lines bracketed his blue eyes, but she couldn’t gauge his age. Rachel craned her neck. He was taller than her assailant, well over six feet. And she couldn’t help but notice how nicely his broad shoulders filled out his jacket.

She tore her gaze away, when he caught her looking. “It’s this way.” Rachel led him to the side street where she’d last seen the body, but the woman had vanished.

She searched the bushes. The woman had been lying in the middle of the sidewalk where the man dropped her. Maybe she’d been further along the street than Rachel had realized.

“Where is she?” Gabriel asked.

“She should be right here. I don’t understand.” Rachel scanned the shadows.

He looked up and down the street. “Sure she was dead?”

Rachel glowered at him. “Positive. I checked her pulse.”

“Maybe someone reported the incident and they’ve already picked her up,” he suggested.

“I’m not sure how the Parisian police work, but back in New York we don’t clean up a crime scene this fast,” she said. “Where’s the tape? Where are the homicide detectives? Someone should still be here canvassing the neighbourhood for witnesses.”

Gabriel stiffened. “Are you police?”

“Homicide detective,” she said absently, ignoring his broken English.

He inhaled again. “Have you been drinking, detective?”

Rachel tensed. “I had a few flutes of champagne with dinner, but I know what I saw.”

“Is this perhaps an elaborate ruse to get out of a trespassing charge?” Gabriel asked.

Her almond-shaped eyes narrowed to glittering slits. “Listen, if you don’t believe me that’s fine. Just point me in the direction of the nearest police station so I can report the incident.”

“OK.” Gabriel reached for her arm to turn her towards the station. She winced. He instantly released her. “Are you injured?”

“I’ll live,” she said. “The guy bit me after he bit the woman. He’d reshaped his teeth. Fancied himself a friggin’ vampire.” Rachel snorted. “More like a drugged-out psycho.” She shook out her arm and winced.

Gabriel maintained a placid expression, when inside his thoughts were in turmoil. If what she was saying was true, then it was possible Rachel had been bitten by a
vampyre.
“May I see?” he asked.

She shrugged and unbuttoned her coat. The second she slipped it off, the scent of blood filled the air. Gabriel swallowed hard, his nostrils flaring to draw the delicious fragrance in. “That looks bad. You’re going to need stitches,” he said, fighting the urge to lick her arm from wrist to elbow.

Rachel glanced down. “It’ll wait.”

“You really should get that seen to.” He looked away as his mouth began to water. It certainly looked like a vamp bite, although it was in an odd location. Most vamps preferred to feed from softer tissue.

“Police station first. Hospital second.”

“As you wish, detective.” Gabriel was nearly mad with the desire to feed by the time they reached the station. Without a body to back her claims, Rachel was just another tipsy tourist who’d been mugged. The police would take a report, check out the scene, then it would be filed away.

Rachel came out of the station two hours later, cursing under her breath and scowling. When Gabriel stepped out of the shadows, she startled, clutching her chest.

“Stop sneaking up on me.” She glared at him.

“I wasn’t sneaking,” he said. “How did it go?”

“Just peachy. Can’t you tell? They’re going to contact my captain in New York. That should be an interesting conversation.” She muttered something unintelligible about stupid men under her breath, then looked around in confusion. “What are you still doing here?”

He held up his hands in defence. “Nothing nefarious I assure you. I believe I said you needed to go to the hospital to get that wound cleaned and stitched. I’m here to take you.” He gave her a gallant bow. The move seemed natural, like he’d performed it hundreds of times.

Despite his easy charm, there was something off about Gabriel. It wasn’t how he spoke or behaved. He’d been nothing but courteous. It wasn’t how he moved. For a big man, he was incredibly light on his feet. Rachel couldn’t pin down what was bothering her and wouldn’t let it go until she could. She scrubbed a hand over her face. Maybe she was shaken up more than she realized.

She eyed Gabriel cautiously, debating whether to accept his offer. Eventually, she gave in. Rachel had no idea where the nearest hospital was in Paris. She could be standing next to it and wouldn’t know it given the architecture in this town. “Lead the way.”

He grinned. The act transformed his face from weary boxer into something altogether unexpected, taking her breath away. Rachel’s heart jumped and her knees turned to jelly. At least she knew she wasn’t dead.

Gabriel waited for the doctor to finish patching Rachel up. It didn’t take long once he found the physician he was looking for. It helped to have a
vampyre
, one of the
sanguis
–
the blood
– on the inside. Vamp bites weren’t fatal unless a blood exchange had occurred, but the bad ones were painful and did take a long time to heal.

The doctor drew a vial of Rachel’s blood. Gabriel watched him walk into the other room and drink it. His palate was quicker than any lab test. Since
sanguis
’ blood didn’t show up in a victim for twenty-four to forty-eight hours, he could only confirm the presence of
sanguis
’ saliva and check for contaminants, along with diseases.

“You’re all set,” the doctor said, returning to the room minutes later. He met Gabriel’s gaze and nodded, confirming his suspicions. She’d been bitten by a member of the
sanguis
, which lent credibility to her story.

Rachel was given a shot to stave off infection and carefully stitched. With any luck, she’d be on the mend in a few weeks.

Gabriel’s phone vibrated as Rachel was being discharged. He flipped it open.

The text contained two words: “
Corps trouvé
”
.
Body found.

He cursed under his breath and closed the phone as Rachel approached. “Ready?”

She nodded and wobbled on her feet.

Gabriel grabbed her hand to steady her and awareness flared between them. The warmth of her skin scalded his fingertips and sent shock waves through his body. He slowly released her and cleared his throat. “We’d better get you back to your hotel.”

Her soft brown eyes peered up at him and Gabriel felt his chest constrict. He could get trapped in that gaze if he wasn’t careful. The urge to touch her again made Gabriel’s hands itch, but
sanguis
and human relationships were never a good idea. No matter how careful one was in the beginning, the human inevitably paid the price.

“You’ve done more than enough,” she said sounding sincere. “I can find my own way home.”

“Nonsense. Let me at least call you a taxi. I don’t want your last impression of Parisian men to be that of a deranged dentally challenged biter.”

Rachel laughed, then tilted her chin, sending her long brown hair into her face. Gabriel reached out and brushed the downy soft strands over her shoulder. “Why are you so concerned about my impression of the men here?”

Gabriel hesitated. Anything he said would be far too revealing.

Rachel’s lips canted. “Don’t worry, you’ve more than made up for the mad biter.”

He smiled, more pleased than he should be about her admission. He hiked a thumb over his shoulder. “I’d better call you that taxi. Where are you staying?”

“Hotel Luxembourg Parc.” Her voice faded with exhaustion.

“Take a seat. I’ll let you know when it arrives.” Gabriel ducked out the front of the hospital.

Rachel watched him go. She wasn’t quite sure what to make of Gabriel Dumont. On the one hand, he’d gone well out of his way to help her. It would never have happened had they been in New York. She could’ve been bleeding on the sidewalk and no one would’ve stopped. Maybe the French were different, but they hadn’t seemed like it at the police station.