The Coveted (The Unearthly) (5 page)

Chapter 5

I traced the
upholstery in Andre’s car as we sped out of Peel and headed for his place. Considering that I now had to work my way back into the coven, I felt that catching up there would give me the additional opportunity to reacquaint myself with the vampire community
—
if, that is, they were still willing to have me. Knowing my luck, I’d probably end up as someone’s dinner instead.

“Where exactly
is
your place these days?” I hadn’t seen Bishopcourt since the night of the fire, but considering the extent of the damage, I couldn’t imagine the place was inhabitable.

Andre took his attention off the road to look at me. The streetlights glinted off of his eyes. “What do you mean?” he asked.

My eyes dropped to his lips, momentarily distracted. I watched them curl in to a smile and my heart rate increased. His smile widened, and I saw his pearly white teeth and a glimpse of fang, which probably meant he was turned on. My own slid out for the billionth time today.

“Where are we going?” I asked again, careful to not nick myself on my fangs.

“Bishopcourt,” he said, not missing a beat.

“Isn’t it . . .” Oh this was awkward. “Didn’t it burn to the ground?” That was the nice way of putting it. We had burned it to the ground
—
me out of clumsiness, and him out of anger.

“I don’t know if you know this,” he said, “but I have lots of money.”

I rolled my eyes. “I’m so impressed.”

“Money can buy lots of things, such as expedited construction.”

Ah, so he’d spent the last month repairing and rebuilding the place. I couldn’t tell if I was more excited or scared at the prospect of seeing Andre’s mansion. I’d loved Bishopcourt, but my last memories of it had been gruesome.

When we pulled up, the mansion looked unchanged. I stared at the pristine lawn and the gray stone walls. “Wow.” He really must’ve thrown a lot of money at the construction company to get this place rebuilt so quickly.

As usual, Andre’s minions opened our doors. I tensed as I left the car. Did they hate me? I shouldn’t have bothered worrying. Their faces were carefully blank, but they also smelled human. Which meant that they weren’t the individuals who would want my head.

Andre came around to me and placed a hand on the small of my back. I had a sneaking suspicion that he simply wanted to be close to me. Unfortunately for me, the simple touch did all sorts of inappropriate things to my body.

We entered the mansion like that. I gazed around me. Everything had been masterfully replicated, down to the staircase I’d bled on and the deadly wrought iron chandelier.

Yet nothing was the same. Different priceless objects sat on display, and the tapestries and paintings that originally hung along the wall had been replaced with others.

Something about that made me immensely sad. Several pieces of art, of history, had burned along with the house, and I’d been partially responsible for it.

Eventually we came to Andre’s office. When I entered, I studied the reconstructed room. It was almost identical to the original.

“You didn’t redesign it!” I said. The last time I’d been in here, Andre has wanted to change up the room. I was surprised that he hadn’t used the fire as the opportunity to do so.

He gazed down at me, still not removing his hand. “You’re right, I didn’t.” He didn’t say that my opinion changed his mind, but his eyes seemed to.

I felt a blush creeping up my neck. I pulled away from him and wandered over to the opposite end of the room, behind his desk. Mounted on the wall was a map of the world. I reached out and touched the canvas.

I glanced over my shoulder at him. He watched me, his look heated. “I’m so glad you didn’t change this,” I said.

His eyes followed me as I moved away from the map and plopped myself in his chair. I swiveled back and forth.

“Why did you call me?”

I stopped swiveling at his question. I’d been avoiding this topic since he met me at my dorm.

“Because I needed to,” I said as he brought a guest chair around the desk and sat down, his knees grazing mine.

Andre leaned forward in his seat, his elbows resting on his knees.

“I work for the Politia.” Andre’s nostrils flared when I said the name.
Must be a sore spot
. “They placed me on the investigation into the recent murders.”

“They put
you
on the case?” His eyebrows rose.

“Why is that so hard to believe?” He was about one wrong comment away from pissing me off.

He ran a hand through his hair. “Gabrielle, you’re a teenager. You’re too young to get involved in this stuff.”

“I’m also too young to get involved with you.” That shut him right up.

“The general opinion is that a vampire is attacking these people,” I said. “And now that the murders have made the papers, the Politia thinks the community will be out for our blood
—
so to speak.”

When he didn’t say anything, I continued. “Earlier today the chief constable told me that this could dissolve the truce.”

“It could,” Andre said, not looking up.

“And if that happens, the Politia will hunt us down.”

Andre now met my eyes. “I promise you they won’t touch us,” he said, his voice fierce.

There was something foreign about him at that moment. It wasn’t that he seemed inhuman, or that he seemed cold, or that he came from a period and place that I couldn’t relate to. It was that time had made him something
more
.

I also knew that he meant every word. Andre hadn’t survived seven hundred years for no reason. And he hadn’t earned his reputation
—
as someone who was not to be crossed
—
for no reason either.

“I’d prefer to instead catch the vampire responsible,” I said. “That’s primarily why I’m here
—
so that we look for the killer together.”

“What’s the other reason?”

I didn’t answer right away. Instead I let the silence envelope us as I pulled together the courage to say what I’d built up in my mind for the last two months.

“I know about the prophecy,” I said quietly. Andre’s eyes widened
—
and why wouldn’t they? He wasn’t there when Theodore confessed. He didn’t know how much I knew. I continued. “I know why Theodore wanted to kill me. And I know we’re soulmates.”

Andre glanced down at his clasped hands. His hair hung in front of his face. He looked so much like a tragic hero. “I’m . . . sorry.”

I didn’t need him to clarify his statement; I knew he was apologizing for the fact that we were now stuck together. I could also tell that while he was surprised I knew this information, he wasn’t surprised to hear it. He’d known we were soulmates this whole time, he’d just never brought it up.

“I’m here because we’re irrevocably bound to each other.”

Andre lifted his head, his eyes sparkling. He was looking at me like I was his redemption.

“But
—
” I continued, “this link between us scares me.
You
scare me. And I still haven’t gotten over the fact that you killed all those people.” I remembered the heaps of clothing, all that remained of dozens of vampires. The memory still gave me chills.

“I will not apologize for my actions,” he said, “not even to you. I did what I had to do to save you. You can decide to stay away from me, but if you choose not to, then you must take me the way I am.”

I couldn’t accept that conscienceless behavior, but I also needed his help. An uncomfortable mixture of thoughts and feelings tumbled through my mind. I loved this man, but I hated some of his actions. I was disgusted for wanting to forgive him because what he did was horrific. I was worried that if I didn’t bring him back into my life, the truce might dissolve, I might get kicked out of school and the Politia, I might not learn to control my vampiric abilities, and I might be persecuted.

I swallowed. It wasn’t even a choice. I needed his help.

“I will take you the way you are,” I said.

His eyes smoldered. The current between us amplified, but maybe that was just my pounding heart.

Tantalizingly slow, Andre rose from his chair and closed the distance between us, his movements sinuous. He leaned in to me and slipped a hand through my hair.

His breath brushed over my mouth. But instead of kissing me, his mouth skimmed along my cheek and stopped next to my ear. “Listen,” he said, “us working together is conditional.”

I pulled my head away from him, so that I could better see him. I was about to flat out say no
—
I’d made enough concessions in the last minute
—
except I could tell from his expression that he wanted me to. He didn’t want to work together on the investigation. That realization hurt more than I would have liked to admit.

So I changed tactics. “Oh really?” I said. “Because you don’t need my help?”

“No, I don’t. And I’d prefer to leave you out of this.”

I folded my arms in front of me. “Well, that’s not going to happen.”

“That’s where my condition comes in. If we’re going to work together, you give me a second chance.”

Of course that was his condition. It was so typically
Andre
—

“That means lots of dates,” he interrupted my thoughts. He began to smile. “Not one or two, but
lots
. We’re talking months and months of dates. And skanky cocktail dresses. I want to see you in so many skanky cocktail dresses that
—
”

“
Fine
,” I said. Skanky cocktail dresses?
As if
. I was going to have to work my way around that condition.

Upon hearing my answer, Andre’s eyebrows rose in surprise. Then a wicked smile gradually spread across his face. I knew I’d been had as soon as I saw it.
I should’ve haggled with him.

“Great,” he said, “where do we start?”

***

I dropped the files on Catherine O’Connor and Harrison Moore onto the desk. “I haven’t looked these over, but these are copies of the Politia’s case files.” I’d received these copies from Maggie to study in my spare time.

Before I hadn’t cared to look at them, but now that so much was on the line, I couldn’t not go over them.

Andre scooted his chair next to mine and our legs brushed. Suddenly, the files were intensely fascinating.

I opened them up. On the first page, a photograph of the victim at the crime scene had been paper clipped to the pages that followed. Seeing the victims as they were originally found brought on a wave of nausea. I could never unsee and unsmell these two.

Catherine, the first victim, had been posed in the shape of a cross. Harrison, meanwhile, laid on the ground, his arms and legs spread apart.

“Two different positions, two different genders, two different locations,” I murmured. I was new at investigating, but it seemed from what I’d heard about serial killers that they usually had one underlying motivation
—
they were predictable, one just needed to find the pattern. I wasn’t seeing it yet.

Andre studied the photos next to me. “This doesn’t seem like a vampire’s work.”

I glanced at him. “Why do you say that?” I was curious. Andre had definitely seen more vampire murders than I had, yet it seemed obvious that the victims’ wounds were the work of a vampire.

“I saw the bodies at the crime scene. Something about them just doesn’t sit well with me.” He traced a finger over Catherine’s position. “She was placed in the sign of the cross. And he,” Andre’s attention moved over to the second victim, “his position makes me think of a pentagram.”

With his finger, Andre drew a star over the victim’s body. Sure enough, Harrison’s head, arms, and legs could easily be interpreted as points of a star. “Both are religious symbols. And vampires tend to not be the religious type, considering that we’re damned.”

I winced. “Isn’t the pentagram an evil sign?” I asked.

Andre studied the photographs. “Not for the most part. It’s often used as a sign of protection. It’s a very old, very powerful symbol.”

So there was a pattern. “Whoever is doing this is incorporating religion into the crimes.”

“It appears that way.”

“Do you think that the victims’ supernatural abilities have anything to do with the sign they were paired with?” I asked.

Andre rubbed his jaw. “There could be, although the connection between the two would largely be based on the killer’s perception rather than on some objective standard.”

I watched him. This Andre who was unaware of himself, who thought deeply, was intensely attractive. I felt like I was being let in on a secret by seeing this side of him.

“There might also be a connection between the religion and the victims’ lifestyles,” he said. “However, finding a link would require access to the victims’ homes and belongings
—
access that we do not have. You might pass this information back to the Politia and let them handle this aspect of the investigation.”

I scribbled down notes on our discussion to pass along. “If the Politia is going to investigate the victims, then what aspect of the case should
we
investigate?”

Andre’s face was grim. “The crime scenes themselves.”

***

We spent a bit more time flipping through the files, but they didn’t tell us anything more than what we already knew.

I turned over the last page in Harrison’s file. Catherine’s sat closed next to it. “Well, it looks like that’s it.”

I closed his file and slipped them both back in my bag. Once I did so, I faced Andre. “You really have no idea who’s responsible for this?”

He ran a hand through his hair. “Gabrielle, not all of my subjects are particularly fond of me right now. Not after what I did on my birthday.”

I swallowed and felt a twinge of remorse. That had to rank as one of his shittiest birthdays. Watching your house burn, parting ways with your soulmate, killing one of your oldest friends and all the vampires he sired.

“It
could
be any one of my subjects. I just don’t know.”

“How do you know I didn’t commit those crimes?” I asked, my voice hoarse.

He searched my eyes. “You didn’t. I know that for a fact. You still smell.”