Page 20 of Chains of Blood and Darkness

“Girls? What girls?” I asked innocently.

His jaw clenched, a mixture of frustration and determination. “They were found naked, beaten, and murdered in cold blood. Do you really expect me to believe you know nothing about this?”

“I assure you, Detective, my family is not involved in such barbaric acts. How exactly were they killed?” I asked, hoping he would reveal more. Compulsion was a tempting option, but it came with risks. When I had used it on the police in the past, their behavior had drawn unwanted attention from their superiors, leading to a flurry of questions I thought it best to avoid. Overusing it would only put my family under greater scrutiny.

No. I had other, more subtle ways to extract information.

DuPont hesitated, weighing the consequences of sharing more. “The circumstances surrounding their deaths are...unusual. What’s even more intriguing is what we discovered with the bodies.” He let the statement linger, a baited hook dangling in front of me.

If I didn’t bite, I’d look guilty. “And what might that be?”

DuPont’s eyes narrowed slightly, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth, as if he appreciated the game of cat and mouse we were playing. “Curiosity can be a double-edged sword, can’t it, Mr. Santi? Let’s just say, the details surrounding their unfortunate demise were...intriguing. One of the girls, Nancee Cruise, was a blackjack dealer in your casino. Did you know her?”

He looked at me, waiting for a reaction. I gave him an amused smile. “You don’t think I do the hiring of blackjack dealers personally, do you?”

“I suppose not. Well, among the girls’ belongings, items were found that raise more questions than answers. Items that could, hypothetically, connect several dots in ways one wouldn’t expect. Ways that might conceivably lead to you, Mr. Santi.”

I could practically feel him tightening the screws on me, trying to get me to tell him everything. Problem was, honestly? I was as much in the dark on this as he was. I didn’t like it.

He paused, letting the implication hang in the air, a silent challenge to see if I would react or divulge any information that confirmed his suspicions. “But of course, I’m sure you wouldn’t know anything about peculiar itemsfound at crime scenes. After all, your establishments have quite the reputation for being—exclusive.”

Shit. It sounded like someone was going out of their way to frame me and my family. It had to be either Trystan, Keir, or possibly even Maximo. Not Simon—even he wouldn’t be dumb enough to do this over a broken bedroom window.

No, this was something else. This had to be some elaborate plan for them to get their hands on Serenity. Something I would never let happen. She was mine.

“I’m sorry you to disappoint you, Detective, but you’re wasting your time here. Like I said earlier, my family doesn’t have anything to do with the deaths of those poor, unfortunate girls, or with the missing girl.” I gave him a curt smile. “If I hear anything, I’ll, of course, be certain to pass it along to you.”

“See that you do.” He gave a nod, more to himself than to me. “Just remember, the longer this takes, the worse it is for everyone involved.” He headed toward the front door then glanced over his shoulder. “And as for the girl…let’s hope nothing happens to her.”

Trust me, nothing will.

After he left, tension hung in the air, a silent acknowledgment of the dangerous game we were both playing.

Enzo entered the living room just as I was pouring myself another glass of wine. “I take it you want me to find out who has been singing to the police?”

I downed the crimson liquid, the burn of the alcohol warming my throat. My thoughts were consumed by Serenity and her blood, how I longed formore. “Yes, find them,” I hissed through clenched teeth. “Bring them to me.” As I spoke, my hands twitched with the urge to touch her body, to bring her pleasure.

“I will. While you were meeting with DuPont, I set some of my men to find out more about those murdered girls. As soon as I find out anything, I’ll report back to you.” He glanced at his watch. “I need to leave to meet with my informant right now, actually.”

“Ask him about what the police know. Find out what it was that pointed to us.”

He nodded curtly and left, and I headed back to my office to research more about these dead girls. Enzo said that they may be part of Simon’s stable. Maybe I did have a lead there. Serenity had also been in Simon’s clutches briefly. Maybe she saw or heard something. If she did, it could mean she had a target on her back.

I climbed the stairs to return to my office and research the girls. But before I could find any information on them, I came across a missing person report on Serenity, describing her kidnapping at the college. She had been taking her trash out when she’d been abducted. Her roommate, Joy, called tearfully for her to be returned. This was all news to me. Had Simon really become so desperate he’d started kidnapping girls off college campuses? There was more to this story, and I intended to find out what it was.

After Serenity’s missing person story, I found newspaper articles briefly mentioning the two murdered girls, but the police reports provided little information. Their names, Nancee Cruise and Stella McClain, were given. They wereboth young women under the age of twenty-five, following an eerie pattern of unresolved stories. Nancee was discovered in the early morning by a jogger, her body lying between Jackson Square and the Moon Walk, her blonde hair fanned out like a grim halo in the grass near the famed tourist attractions.

Stella’s story was equally disconcerting, found as she was by a local fisherman at dawn in City Park, amid the serene setting of ancient oaks and tranquil ponds. Her presence there was also an unnatural blemish on the landscape’s beauty, her blonde locks mingling with the morning mist. Close to her was a cryptic note, partially soaked by the morning dew, with an enigmatic message that the police had not yet released to the public.

Their striking resemblance to each other had been noted, and they also bore a remarkable similarity to Serenity. This recurring detail of their blonde hair, now a haunting motif, seemed too pointed to be a mere coincidence. The reports made no real mention of their last known activities, only that they were both last seen at locations not far from where their lives were tragically cut short.

As I stared at Nancee’s picture, the memories suddenly came rushing back like a tidal wave, threatening to drown me in a sea of guilt and regret. I remembered her now—a one night stand. She hadn’t been part of Simon’s stable. She’d been a blackjack dealer at Crimson Stakes. I remembered the way her blood had called to me, the way I had taken her in my arms and sunk my fangs into her soft, yielding flesh. I had tasted her essence, savored it like a fine wine, andthen cast her aside.

She was just one of the many such encounters I had in my long life, but I hadn’t killed her. Leaving a trail of bodies would stupidly draw attention to me and my family.

As the head of the Santi family, I had a certain reputation to uphold. I couldn’t afford to let my past indiscretions come back to haunt me, but it seemed someone was determined to do just that. Was it DuPont who had discovered my secret? Was he trying to frame me for Nancee’s murder in some kind of twisted power play?

I stared at Stella McClain’s picture. I had no recollection of her being one of my conquests. But there was something about her…I had seen her somewhere…According to Crimson Stakes’ personnel records, she’d never worked for me. Maybe I had met her on Bourbon Street at another bar? Or during Mardi Gras? Or possibly Simon’s? I could have fucked her, fed on her, and not remembered it, possibly even killed her. But if I had done that, I would have buried her body where no one would have discovered it.

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