her head, wincing all the while. “It’s unfortunate you aren’t willing to listen to reason, Michael,” she called out after him. “But until you agree to help me, I plan to remain here at the Hotel Dumaine.”
He spun around, anger sparking across his features. In a few long strides, he stood before her once more. “A foolish choice, especially when I’ve already arranged a place for you with full police protection.”
“It isn’t foolish at all,” Celine argued. “If you won’t respect my wishes, I see no reason to bend to your will. Besides that, no place in this city is safe if the killer is watching me, as I believe him to be.” A shiver chased over her skin, but Celine kept her gaze steady.
His thick brows tufted together. “It isn’t about respecting your wishes. It’s about what’s best for you. What will keep you the safest.”
Irritation simmered at the edges of Celine’s vision. “Then the New Orleans Metropolitan Police will only protect me if I do exactly as Detective Michael Grimaldi says?”
Michael said nothing in response. Soft laughter resonated from Odette.
Celine sighed. “For whatever reason, this—thing—has singled me out. We can either run from that fact or use it to our advantage.” She took a deep breath. “I’m not a fool. I’m aware of the danger, and I promise I’m appropriately afraid. I just refuse to be a victim for a single second more.” A muscle twitched beneath her left eye. Celine rubbed the skin there and found another fleck of dried blood smeared across her fingertips, the smell thick and metallic. Her stomach churned at the sight. “I only wish we knew what this thing was so that we might determine how best to destroy it.”
“Don’t believe every myth you hear. If there are no gods among us, there can be no demons,” Michael said, his voice leached of all emotion. “The same logic you’ve already employed indicates the killer must be a man. Most killers with multiple victims are.”
“It’s not simply a man.” Celine shook her head. “It’s something . . . else. Something inhuman.”
“If it lives and breathes, it can be killed like any living and breathing creature.”
Exhaustion burrowed deep into Celine’s bones. The strength to keep arguing with the intractable Michael Grimaldi was leaving her with each passing breath. Her fingers and toes had lost all sense of feeling. Soon it would be difficult to stand straight.
Even still, Celine did not miss the fact that Odette had failed to counter Michael’s recent assertions. Nor could Celine overlook the thoughtful slant of Odette’s brunette head.
Odette Valmont possessed information of value and was doing her level best to keep it from them.
Here was proof of something Celine had long suspected. The members of La Cour des Lions did have an inkling of what—or who—this demon might be. Why they chose to keep it among themselves remained a mystery. It could be because the murderer resided in their midst, and they wished to protect his identity. But their recent behavior did not follow this reasoning. In the last few days, Odette had become more than a mere acquaintance to Celine, and Bastien had gone out of his way to ensure her safety the other night. He’d even threatened to destroy the creature in a wholly remorseless manner.
Why would they go to such trouble to protect her if their loyalty lay with the killer?
Unless . . . this was all part of their plan.
An elaborate ruse to establish their innocence.
If that was true, Celine had already lost the battle. Only moments ago, she’d divulged her plan in its entirety to Odette. If Odette betrayed her, all her efforts would be for naught.
Celine’s shoulders sagged.
She was tired of speculating. She needed the truth. And Celine knew who to ask, though she dreaded his answer. The lie he would offer in place of what she desired. Nevertheless, Celine planned to speak to Bastien tomorrow. She’d demand he share with her everything he knew. No more lies. No more masks. It was time for them to cast aside their façades and bare all.
Bastien no longer had a choice. If he refused to be forthcoming, Celine would tell Michael about the yellow ribbon and allow judgment to rain down upon them all.
“Give up on this cockamamie plan,” Michael said to Celine, tearing her from her inner turmoil, his countenance grave. “Because I will never agree to using you as bait.”
Celine scowled, desperately wishing she could throttle Michael. Just a little. “I have no