Page 72 of Taken

I couldn’t tell de Froulay the truth about Zaq’s kidnapping. Not yet.

But I could make Philippe Moreau’s life difficult. “He’s plotting something with the Tremblays. Something big.”

De Froulay’s face tightened. “You have proof?”

“Enough. I heard things—little things, here and there. But I don’t have details. Moreau didn’t trust me that far I think he’s trafficking humans, too. The thralls in his lair are afraid of him, and I’m pretty sure he beats them.”

De Froulay swore. “I need more.”

“You’ll have to find your own proof. I’m not working for him anymore. In fact, I’m leaving Paris.”

Twin lines formed between his dark brows. “Why?”

“I had a better offer.” It wasn’t exactly the truth, but it was the best I could come up with on such short notice.

A pained look crossed his face. “If you’d let me help you…”

I shook my head. “I’ll contact you if I hear anything else.”

“All right.” He hesitated, then stepped closer. His gaze probed my blank expression like he could see the fear and worry beneath. “If you’re in trouble, I’d like to help.”

No. Hell, no.

“Everything’s fine. I just have another job, is all.”

“Here’s my personal number.” He scribbled a number on a business card and held it out. “If you need anything—anything at all—call or text me. No one but me has access to it.”

I stared at the card without taking it.

A muscle jumped in his jaw. He took my hand, placed the card into my palm and closed my fingers around it.

“Thanks,” I muttered.

He heaved a breath. “If I could go back in time and do things over, I would. Charlotte didn’t like my life—she made no secret of that. She never wanted to be with a syndicate vampire, especially a primus.”

“You think I care?”

He shrugged his big shoulders. “Frankly, I think you do.”

I took a step back. “I have to go.”

“I’m surprised she stayed as long as she did. I should never have taken her as a thrall—that’s my one regret. I knew she was different.” His mouth pulled to the side in a poignant little smile. “She really did love me. You don’t know how seductive that can be to a man like me.”

I stared at him, hearing again my mom’s screams. The screams that changed to whimpers before they were abruptly cut off.

“She died because of you.” My voice shook with anger. “Do you regret that, too?”

“Of course. And I’m sorry, my dear, so very sorry. Those are just words, I know. But I truly mean them.”

I fisted my hands. De Froulay’s card crumpled in my fingers but I barely noticed.

“Your words mean nothing. Not when I lost my—my—” I stopped, unable to speak past the lump clogging my throat. “They hurt her. I heard her screaming. And I couldn’t help. God knows what they did to her, but she refused to give me up.”

“I’m sorry,” he said again.

With an effort, I brought myself under control. I even managed a tight nod.

His mouth formed a hard line. “If I could go back in time and change things, I would. But I promise you this. I will find the men who murdered Charlotte, and they will pay. This I swear on the blood of my own mother.”

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