Trois.
Silence.
I looked at Thérèse. “What exactly did you do to Vincent?”
“I?” She made an open gesture with her hands. “What could we do to Vincent? He rules here. He’s even older than you.”
“He wants you dead for a reason.”
“Why you? We’re nothing to you,” she tried to scan me again. “Is he here?”
I stared at Patrice. “Where’s the ring?”
“Pick one,” he said holding up a glittering fist. I clamped my palm around his fist, squeezing. He yelped and bucked. “Where is it?” I repeated, my voice dull and tired. “I don’t have all night.”
“We don’t have a ring!” cried Thérèse. “Vincent has sent you on a fool’s errand! Leave us alone!”
I pushed Patrice aside and stood so close to her that I had to tilt my chin down to my chest. Her pale lashes caught the meagre light. “I’ve come for a ring and I’m going to leave with it. It’s nearly dawn. Fetch it or I’ll drag you outside to burn.”
“But I don’t have it!” She’d lost her veneer of calm, her voice high and tense. “I don’t! You wouldn’t kill us for the sake of a ring. That’s monstrous!”
“We’re all killers, chérie.”
She took a step back. “Who are you to judge us? I know your face but you don’t know us.”
Flash of a large, modern room. Claude was speaking silently, painting images. A tall vampire with a startled face, his skin shiny with scars. The ceiling light swung, casting sliding shadows. Patrice, high on blood, pushing the vampire down to the wooden floor. The man’s hands reaching up for Thérèse as she slashed with her shining knife. The hand held high, a jagged trophy, and on the trembling finger, a gold ring. And beneath all this, I caught the pulse of Claude’s horror. I felt a strange detachment too.
“Then we killed him,” Claude added aloud, his unwavering blue eyes on mine. “She rent him limb from limb.” So that’s why I’d been sent. Presumably this victim was dear to Vincent. The irony of the situation wasn’t lost on me.
“I’ll kill you!” Thérèse lunged for Claude, her face twisting in fury, but I grasped her mane of blonde hair.
“You cut this vampire into pieces,” I told her. “If this were a crime, it’s yours alone. He was weak and you killed him because you could. You prey on weakness.” I let the resentment in my heart kindle and sent it out, blasting her with its heat. She was too surprised to scream. The blonde hair dropped from my fingers, singed.
In a scramble of bony limbs, Patrice made a break for it. I let him. Vincent wanted three deaths, but he could make do with one.
Claude looked up from the darkened patch on the floor that had been Thérèse.
“I’m ready,” he said.
I looked at Thérèse. “What exactly did you do to Vincent?”
“I?” She made an open gesture with her hands. “What could we do to Vincent? He rules here. He’s even older than you.”
“He wants you dead for a reason.”
“Why you? We’re nothing to you,” she tried to scan me again. “Is he here?”
I stared at Patrice. “Where’s the ring?”
“Pick one,” he said holding up a glittering fist. I clamped my palm around his fist, squeezing. He yelped and bucked. “Where is it?” I repeated, my voice dull and tired. “I don’t have all night.”
“We don’t have a ring!” cried Thérèse. “Vincent has sent you on a fool’s errand! Leave us alone!”
I pushed Patrice aside and stood so close to her that I had to tilt my chin down to my chest. Her pale lashes caught the meagre light. “I’ve come for a ring and I’m going to leave with it. It’s nearly dawn. Fetch it or I’ll drag you outside to burn.”
“But I don’t have it!” She’d lost her veneer of calm, her voice high and tense. “I don’t! You wouldn’t kill us for the sake of a ring. That’s monstrous!”
“We’re all killers, chérie.”
She took a step back. “Who are you to judge us? I know your face but you don’t know us.”
Flash of a large, modern room. Claude was speaking silently, painting images. A tall vampire with a startled face, his skin shiny with scars. The ceiling light swung, casting sliding shadows. Patrice, high on blood, pushing the vampire down to the wooden floor. The man’s hands reaching up for Thérèse as she slashed with her shining knife. The hand held high, a jagged trophy, and on the trembling finger, a gold ring. And beneath all this, I caught the pulse of Claude’s horror. I felt a strange detachment too.
“Then we killed him,” Claude added aloud, his unwavering blue eyes on mine. “She rent him limb from limb.” So that’s why I’d been sent. Presumably this victim was dear to Vincent. The irony of the situation wasn’t lost on me.
“I’ll kill you!” Thérèse lunged for Claude, her face twisting in fury, but I grasped her mane of blonde hair.
“You cut this vampire into pieces,” I told her. “If this were a crime, it’s yours alone. He was weak and you killed him because you could. You prey on weakness.” I let the resentment in my heart kindle and sent it out, blasting her with its heat. She was too surprised to scream. The blonde hair dropped from my fingers, singed.
In a scramble of bony limbs, Patrice made a break for it. I let him. Vincent wanted three deaths, but he could make do with one.
Claude looked up from the darkened patch on the floor that had been Thérèse.
“I’m ready,” he said.