Midnight Blues

“You do have to perform a penance before we return to Argentina, my pearl,” he said. “Where better than in a convent?”



Seven



Lucan was not the best tracker among the Kyn – Gabriel Seran had long held that distinction – but after spending most of his lengthy existence hunting his own kind, he could pick up any Kyn scent with little effort. Discovering that Donatien no longer shed scent proved no impediment, as the Marquis never traveled alone. It only took a few moments for Lucan to find the acrid, sour trail of two humans teetering on the brink of rapture. How like the Marquis to drain his companions to the point of near-death, and then leave them there, imprisoned by the pain and terror induced by his talent, too weak from blood loss to do anything but serve and endure.



Bastard.



Tracking the human female and male Donatien had recently enslaved led Lucan directly across the city, to the cluster of hotels and clubs catering to the needs of the young, moneyed and bored. The trail ended at Club Dominion, and there, standing beneath it and holding court among a dozen human patrons waiting to enter the club was his seneschal, Rafael.



A faint halo of golden light surrounded Rafael – light, Lucan knew, that would be completely blinding to any human eye – as well as the sweet, pervasive scent of orange blossoms.



The humans weren’t waiting to enter the club. Rafael had shed a massive amount of scent, using l’attrait to bespell them. As he drew closer, Lucan saw the reason why he had also drawn on his talent to blind the humans. Someone had barred the open doors of the club by hanging the decapitated body of a female in front of it.



Lucan joined his seneschal in front of the gruesome display. “A gift from Donatien?”



“A message. He left her head in my apartment.” Rafael stared at the dead girl’s torso. Her blouse had been neatly cut off from the bottom of her breasts to the top of her mound. An elegant hand had written on it in blood:



If you truly wish to see the light, Rafael, you must bleed for the sins of the world. Annuciata – I will begin killing them at midnight.



“This has to end.” Lucan turned and concentrated, and the scent of jasmine grew thick. “Go home,” he told the waiting humans. “Do not return here again.”



Slowly the crowd shuffled off to their cars.



Rafael took out a dagger, cut the rope tied under the dead woman’s breasts, and carried the body into the club.



Lucan followed, and saw several patrons were all sitting quietly at their tables, staring at the band on stage. The musicians stood bound by spiked chains to their instruments, garish spot lights illuminating their blank faces.



The thick odor of fresh blood drew him to the nearest table. The two girls sitting at it were motionless, their eyes unblinking. They were alive, their pulses regular, but their hands had been nailed to the top of the table. At the next table, a young man and his date were tied to their chairs with razor wire.



Lucan looked at his seneschal. “He’s been at all of them.”



Rafael placed the body in the stock room before he came out and bolted the doors. Lucan worked quickly with him to free the humans from the various, ghastly methods Donatien had used to restrain them, and coax them back to semi-consciousness. Women and men began to huddle together and weep.



“I will go with you to the convent,” Lucan said once they had freed the last of the patrons, and suggested through l’attrait that they forget what had happened while they sought out medical treatment for their wounds. “Where is Samantha?”



“She stayed behind at the apartment with Daniela. Burke sent men to help escort her to a safer location.” His mobile phone rang, and he answered it. “Suarez.” With a frown, he switched it to speaker. “Samantha? Say that again?”



“I said, we’re okay,” Samantha said, her voice filled with laughter. “I’m taking Dani back to the convent. Can you meet me there? There’s been a ten twenty-two, and I could use a hand with it.”



His seneschal froze. “I’ll be there shortly.”



“Great, thanks. See you.” The line clicked off.



“What is it?” Lucan demanded.



“Samantha was warning me,” Rafael said. “‘Ten twenty-two’ is radio code for ‘disregard the last assignment.’ It’s a trap.”



Light bulbs and glasses all around the club began exploding.



“He took her,” Lucan said, hearing nothing but the roar of blood in his head. “God damn it, he has her.” He started for the door, only to be brought up short by a hard hand on his arm. He stared at Rafael in amazement. “You dare.”



“I do,” his seneschal said flatly. “We will summon the men and have them surround the convent. I will go in alone.”



Lucan stared at him. “If you expect me to wait outside and do nothing while you have a polite tête-à-tête with that lunatic, think again.”



“I have no plans to negotiate with Donatien, my lord,” Rafael said. “It will be a simple, even exchange. Me for Samantha, Daniela and the rest of the women.”



“And then?” Lucan snarled. “Am I to simply walk away and leave you to him?”



“Then,” his seneschal said, “I will finish this.”



Dani held on to Samantha as Donatien escorted them inside the silent walls of the Annuciata. The women of the convent were nowhere to be seen, and the fear he had already killed them clutched at her throat, making it hard to breathe.



“I think what I admire most about that cunt Marguerite was her ingenuity,” Donatien said as he brought them into the convent’s main work room, where the nuns had once spent years sort and mending donations of used clothing for the poor. Neat, ominous rows of garden tools, cooking utensils and every knife from the kitchen covered the table top. “You had no religion when she took you from the village, did you?”



Dani shook her head. The Father had had nothing but contempt for the church.



“She gave you a cause, my pearl, one well-suited to your particular abilities. How like a Catholic to teach you to worship an imaginary God while you cared for the victims of that faith.” Donatien sat down in what had been the Mother Superior’s chair at the head of the table and indicated the others to his right and left. “Do be seated, ladies.”



“You have me now, my lord,” Dani said as she lowered herself in the chair to his left. “I will serve you willingly. I swear it. But if we do not leave this country quickly, your enemies will seek revenge.”



“I can only hope, my pearl.” Donatien nodded to the redheaded woman, who opened the door to the adjoining storage room. In a single line, the women of the convent shuffled into the room. Each went to stand against the wall, their faces as empty as their eyes.



“If you harm them,” she promised, “I will never serve you.”



“I do not flatter myself to think I can hold your loyalty, whatever may be my wishes in the matter. I must therefore resort to more drastic measures.” He picked up a boning knife. “If you attempt to leave me again, I will forego my usual pleasures and begin killing every human I touch. Like so.” Donatien placed a hand on the redhead's arm. She uttered a short, almost grateful cry, and blood poured from her mouth, nose and ears.



Dani ran to her, but by the time her body crumpled to the floor, she was dead. She held the woman's lifeless body in her arms and looked up at the smiling monster. “I will stay with you.”



“You see? We understand each other at last. Excellent.” He took out a golden pocket watch and consulted it. “Midnight has arrived, but I fear your lover has not. We must start the entertainment without him.” He made a languid gesture.



Bridget came forward, moving as if in a daze. She began mechanically rolling up the sleeves of her robe.



“This one cuts herself, did you know that?” Donatien asked in a conversational tone. “Very cleverly, in fact, with small bits of razor blades concealed in the ends of her fingernails. She almost had me convinced, and I am not an easy man to deceive. Poor Cristál. All this time, you have been wasting your talents on a pathetic self-mutilator.”



“I knew she could hurt herself,” Dani said, her eyes filling with tears. “It is not her fault. She is sick.”



“A pity you could not repair her mind as well as you have her little cuts.” Donatien tossed the boning knife to Bridget, who caught and held it in a white-knuckled fist. “The wrists first, I think, dearest. You’ll last longer that way.”



Dani saw Bridget drag the blade across her arm and bolted out of her chair. Before she could reach the woman, Donatien caught her by her hair and dragged her back, holding her at his side.



“She loves the pain,” he whispered against Dani’s cheek. “It makes her feel alive inside. It even arouses her. Look at her eyes. See how bright they are? By the time she makes the third cut, she’ll orgasm for us.”



“My lord,” a cold voice said from behind them. “I have come, as you commanded.”



Donatien turned to smile at Rafael. “My old friend, the emissary of cognac.” He released Dani’s hair. “How delighted I am to see you after so many years.”



Dani took advantage of the distraction to go to Bridget and tear the knife out of her grip. She clamped her hand over the woman’s bleeding wrist, pouring herself into the wound as quickly as she could.



“I come with an offer of trade for safe passage,” Rafael said.



Donatien’s eyebrows lifted. “Now I am intrigued.”



“My master Lucan has agreed to end my service to him,” Rafael said to Donatien. “Release the women, and I will make my oath to you now. I will take you to any destination you wish, establish your household and, if you desire, gather a jardin to serve you. I swear this on my honor.”



“You would be my seneschal? What a provocative idea.” Donatien glanced at Samantha. “Alas, I have become quickly enamored of my fierce Amazon. Perhaps I will send her back to him someday, but I cannot surrender my new jewel now.” He smiled. “What else do you offer, emissary?”