"It is so," Dominic answered my first question. "Raphael has been too diligent in his investigation into our alibis for the murders of the women Milos and I have enjoyed. We cannot allow him to interest the police in our matters. Already he has gone too far. He almost caught me last night, before I was able to dispose of dear Tanya's remains to my satisfaction. I was not able to leave the damning clues as I had wanted."
"My rune stone," I said, seeing again the image of a purple stone in Raphael's hand.
"It would have worked if St. John had not followed us," Milos said, his voice cold and emotionless.
"But… but… why? Why did you kill her?"
Milos and Dominic exchanged a small, very chilling smile. "We are Vampyr. It is what we do."
"You're no more a vampire than Raphael is," I snorted.
Milos gestured toward me, prompting Raphael to note, "Baby, never mock a man who's holding a loaded Glock on you."
I pursed my lips and edged closer to him. Milos did not look in the least bit sane. "I see your point."
Raphael's hand brushed my hip as he reached behind him.
"You will come this way now," Dominic ordered.
I hate being pushed around. "Just a second. If you're going to kill us, the least you can do is admit everything in the best detective-story manner. I think you owe us that much."
Dominic smiled; his fake fangs didn't look nearly as amusing as I'd found them in the past. The beastly things glinted wickedly in the dull sodium lights. Raphael's arm slowly moved alongside me, then stopped. I prayed he had a weapon in it. Something lethal.
"I, too, read detective stories," Dominic replied. "If you expect us to admit to our sins in hopes you will miraculously escape, you are bound to be disappointed."
"You did murder Tanya and all those other women, though."
Milos muttered to Dominic. He held up his hand and looked hard at Raphael. "Our dear Raphael knows the answer to that question."
"Yes, I do," Raphael drawled. "The French police almost had you after you killed that prostitute in Paris, but unfortunately"—his lips twisted wryly—"I was pulled from the case."
"What? You knew it was the two of them all the time? Why didn't you do something?"
Raphael ignored my question, his eyes bright as they watched Dominic. "Someone bribed a technician to destroy the forensic evidence needed to convict you, Milos. Without it, the French detectives I was assisting could not bring any charges."
"Just who are you?" I asked him.
"Enough talk!" Dominic snapped. "You will walk ahead of me, mon ange."
I couldn't believe I ever thought Milos was creepy. Dominic standing there with a gun calmly discussing our murders was by far the creepier of the two.
"Kill them now," Milos said as he turned to leave. "I will return to the festival and keep the inspector busy."
"What?" I shrieked.
"I would gag her before you shoot her," Milos tossed over his shoulder as he left. "She will struggle more that way."
"I won't!" I snarled, then quickly threw myself out of the way as I screamed, "Let him have it, Raphael!"
Dominic looked at the slim black recorder held in Raphael's hand.
"Oui," he said, holding out his own hand. "Let me have it, Raphael."
I glared at the love of my life. "I thought you had a knife or something, not a tape recorder."
"I seldom carry weapons," he said mildly. As Dominic approached him to grab the recorder, Raphael's foot shot out and cracked across Dominic's knee. Raphael threw himself on Dominic as the latter went down, both men struggling for possession of the gun. I danced around the pair of them, looking for something I could use to brain Dominic, and had just settled on a large rock when a hand grabbed my skirt and jerked me backward.
The sharp prick of steel through my blouse kept me from moving.
"Drop the gun," Dominic gasped behind me, his hand tightening on my arm. "Very good. Now kick it toward me."
Raphael did as he was ordered.
I glared at him. "Even Dominic has a knife, Bob!"
"Do not start with me now, woman."
I snorted. He raised a brow at me in a wordless demand for silence, then held his hands up. "Let her go, Dominic. She doesn't know anything. I haven't told her about my investigations, nor why I joined the fair."
"You can say that again," I muttered with another pointed look at him.
"Joy, this is no time to bait me," Raphael answered as Dominic released me to pick up his gun.
"Oh really?" I gestured toward Dominic. "There's a mad-man standing there with a gun pointed at us, explaining how he plans on murdering us, and you don't think now is the time to talk? When do you want to talk? While he's shooting us?"
"You will stop this discussion now and march before me," Dominic ordered in his best bossy voice.
"You know full well that I had my reasons for not telling you what I was doing—"
"Right, you're a spy."
His eyes glittered dangerously at me. "I am not a spy."
"Yes, you are, you're a spy, and you joined the fair because you knew Dominic and Milos were the murderers. Roxy and I figured it all out."
"You must stop now and walk in single file before me," Dominic demanded in a louder tone of voice.
"You and Roxy are not entirely right."
"But we're partially right, which means you're a spy!"
"I am not a spy."
"Well, I know that story Dominic told me isn't true. I certainly don't believe you went to prison for raping some woman!"
"Now, it is now we will be marching. St. John, you will proceed first." Dominic took a step nearer me and waved his gun at Raphael.
"Perhaps you would care to explain why you've been trying to protect me from the police if you knew the story was untrue?" Raphael answered me with a decidedly disgruntled look on his face.
I shook my finger at him. "I wasn't trying to protect you from that, you great lummox, I was trying to keep the police from arresting you because you were a spy and couldn't tell them who you really were."
"I AM NOT A SPY!"
"I will not be ignored! You will do as I say. NOW!"
"Ha!" I said, raising my chin to glare at Raphael. "If you're not a spy, what are you? You admitted you're investigating the murders. You're not a policeman because you're not Czech, and there is no international police force that works through… different"—the words came to a stop as I stared at him—"countries. What's in Lyon?"
Raphael's jaw tightened as his eyes closed for a moment.
"YOU WILL STOP SPEAKING NOW AND… Lyon?" Dominic stopped bellowing to approach us warily, his eyes narrowed as he held the gun on Raphael. "Lyon, mon ange, is where you can find the headquarters of Interpol. How very interesting I suddenly find this conversation. Interpol… of course. That would explain so much."
"Interpol?" I asked Raphael. "You're with Interpol? Like a detective?"
He ignored me, keeping his eyes on Dominic.
Dominic stared back at him. "The only thing I do not understand is how you knew I would hire you in Marseilles. Your record—which I assume now was false, yes?—was not one that would lend itself to employment."
"I assumed that in your case, a history of violence toward women would act as a reference rather than a deterrent," Raphael answered, his eyes boring a hole through Dominic's head. He had let go of my hand, but I could tell his muscles were tense with anticipation. I suspected he was waiting for Dominic to get close enough that he could jump him. I know that was my plan.