Chapter 1
Paris was the same—a combination of contrasting elements. It was like contemporary art, which can be interpreted in different ways by different audiences. And sometimes, even the same person perceives the same artwork differently at times.
It was Jasmine, now, revisiting Paris.
The city was the same. Vibrant but elegant. Nostalgic but modern. Sophisticated but down to earth and real.
To Jasmine, the only difference was herself.
She was a different person now—no longer the young, naive Jasmine Keene who had worked at Le Fouquet’s. After many years working for the Supernatural Law Enforcement, she now considered herself a seasoned woman.
Still, she couldn’t explain why she kept seeing Coco, a beautiful Chartreux she owned. She assumed there were many beautiful gray Chartreux cats in the world. But Coco had quite unusual green eyes, and that was what she saw in the gray cat looking at her from across the street.
It couldn’t be Coco because she would be tucked in safe and sound with her best friend Max, a husky puppy, in Gisborne, Australia.
“Jasmine?” Pierre called her from across the small road.
Jasmine glanced again at the cat and found that it was gone. Her mind and vision must have been playing tricks on her after a long flight.
Pierre looked the same. Striking facial features, masculine jaw, and a pair of soft green eyes that would melt the heart of any girl in Paris.
“I was just about to come over to give you a surprise visit.”
“I was about to close—there are no more customers in the restaurant. Even if the restaurant was crowded, no man in his right mind would miss the sight of you. You always stand out, Jasmine.”
He kissed her on the cheek.
Pierre was always like that. Passionate. Full of life.
She smiled at him and then took in the facade of the small but elegant restaurant that Pierre now called his own. “So, this is your Petit Oiseau! It’s gorgeous!”
He looked at his restaurant from across the street as if he had never had the chance to see it from there, as if it was love at first sight. “It’s about love of the food, Jasmine. The ambiance is just an added benefit. Come on in!”
Like a gentleman, he led her across the street and into his restaurant. He pulled a chair out at a table next to the window. “At this hour, I’m guessing you’ve had dinner already. But I’d like you to try a new dish I’ve just created.”
“I always have room for your delicacies, Pierre.”
As he dashed into the kitchen, Jasmine looked across the street and saw the gray cat again. This time, it walked back and forth, occasionally looking straight at her. She swore the unusual green shade of its eyes was the same as Coco.
Pierre came back out and placed a white plate in front of her. On it rested a tiny piece of steak decorated with elegant sprinkles of sauce and herbs. Dish presentation was one of Pierre’s strong suits, something she could never compete with when they worked together at Le Fouquet’s.
He placed wine glasses on the table and poured wine into her glass, then his. He followed her gaze across the road. “I make better hot chocolate than what they offer, Jasmine.”
She realized that the boutique chocolate house across the road was still open, even if there were hardly any customers inside.
“Oh, no… I was just looking at the gorgeous cat over there.”
Pierre glanced across the road and frowned. “What cat?”
She looked again and saw that the cat was sitting, tapping its tail on the pavement from one side to the other. Pierre couldn’t see it, which meant the cat was supernatural. She shrugged. “It’s gone. But look at what you have here! I shouldn’t have had dinner before coming.”
“I know you’re vegan, Jasmine. But it’s the meat sauce I would like you to taste. And I know pinot noir is your least favorite. But it pairs perfectly with this dish.”
She smiled at him. “You don’t need to sugarcoat anything with me, Pierre. I know I talked about being a vegan. But for me, being vegan and a good chef simultaneously is an impossible combination right now. And as for pinot noir, it depends on the region. Let me try this first.”
“Please!” He leaned back in his chair and watched her over the rim of his wine glass. He took her opinion way too seriously for her liking, given she treated food creation as a passion rather than a profession.
The meal was heavenly.
She gave him a smile of approval, and he almost jumped out of his chair with joy. They were once colleagues. He understood her well, and that sign of approval was all he needed.
On his second glass of wine, he glanced at her bare hand. “No one deserving enough to put a ring on that finger yet? Or are you still thinking about what happened in London?”
“Neither. What happened in London was a long time ago. I had relationships after that, but they didn’t go anywhere. And, by the way, I’ve just gotten married. His name is Bertram. I’m very happy.”
“Congratulations! You’re happy. That’s all that matters. Knowing you, I didn’t expect a fairytale wedding ceremony. But no ring? Come on!”
She smiled at him. “It’s complicated. But trust me, Bertram is the best thing that ever happened in my life.”
He nodded. Jasmine saw a glimpse of genuine joy in his eyes.
He pulled a red box from his pocket and put it on the table. “Her name is Michelle. Tell me what you think of this, Jasmine.”
She leaned over, hugged him, and kissed him on the cheek.
“Congratulations, Pierre. I’m not a good judge when it comes to jewelry, but I’ll try …” Her voice trailed off when she saw the exquisite ring inside the box. Simple. Elegant. “You love her so much, Pierre. I can see it in the ring. I’m sure she can see it, too.”
Unshed tears glimmered in his eyes. This was the Pierre she knew. She wasn’t surprised to see him being sentimental.
“When’s the wedding?”
“Next month. I guess it’s too soon for you to come back. But it would mean a lot to me if you would meet Michelle. How long will you stay this time? Can we have you over for lunch sometime, or even breakfast?”
“It will be a pleasure. I just flew in this afternoon and will go to Normandy tomorrow. No definite plan yet—I’m not sure how much time I’ll need to do what I have to do in Normandy. But I can certainly come back to Paris to catch up.”
“How are you getting to Normandy tomorrow?”
“I’ll grab a rental.”
He arched an eyebrow.
“I’m not using your car, Pierre.”
“I no longer drive a mini convertible, Jasmine. I have a conservative sedan now. So take my car and use it. And you can start by driving me home tonight. I’ve already had two and a half glasses.”
“If I take your car, how are you going to get to work?”
“You’re lucky I drove today. Normally, Michelle drops me off. I only drive my car on occasion to keep the battery going.”
Pierre locked the restaurant door and pointed across the street. “I parked on the next block. The restaurant has no carpark, as you can see. Land around here is expensive.”
As they crossed the road, she saw the cat again, sitting next to a tree, its green eyes focused on her.
“Oh—I forgot my scarf. Michelle won’t be happy if I go home without it. Just give me a minute.”
Jasmine nodded and let Pierre go. When he was inside the restaurant and out of sight, she planned to dash over to the stalking cat for a chat.
When Pierre was halfway across the street, the cat darted from its position next to a tree to sit just behind Pierre in the street. Jasmine wasn’t sure of the supernatural cat’s intentions. A car’s headlights shone in her direction, so she couldn’t see clearly, but she could tell that Pierre had stopped walking and turned toward the cat.
The supernatural cat must have allowed him to see it at just that moment.
Then the sounds and commotion were upon her like a storm.
Jasmine couldn’t see much except for the flashes of blinding car headlights, and she heard honks and what she thought were people shouting. When the headlights swung away from her face, she saw a car heading straight for Pierre. It swept him off his feet. The impact and the momentum carried him on the bonnet for a few seconds before the car stopped.
His body slid from the car to the ground.
The cat appeared again next to the tree.
Jasmine darted over to Pierre. She knew he was dead before she even looked into his soft green eyes that stared into nothingness.
The driver of the car got out and started crying when he saw what had happened. Several pedestrians rushed over to help.
Jasmine held Pierre’s hand and watched his lips to see if he might utter a few last words. If his soul still lingered here, he might try to give her a sign or an indication of why the supernaturals wanted to kill him.
Not a single word escaped his mouth. He was as dead as an ordinary human. From an ordinary human’s point of view, it appeared to be a tragic traffic accident and nothing more.
But Jasmine knew Pierre had been murdered by the supernaturals.
Chapter 2
Responding to the noise at the door, Bertram reluctantly shifted his eyes away from the computer screen.
It had been three days since Jasmine vanished. In his career, there had been no cases that he couldn’t trace to a conclusion. There had been no investigative leads that he felt impossible to follow. If he needed information about human leads, he’d always get it.
But Jasmine was different.
She was a female version of him—in the supernatural world. That meant if she didn’t want to be found, he had no chance of finding her.
He only wished they could have spoken before she’d departed. He wished she had shared her problem with him.
Bertram opened the front door of Jasmine’s house in the vineyard and found the husky puppy, Max, sitting there, his sad dog eyes looking up at him. There was no sign of his inseparable friend—Coco, the cat.
“What’s the problem, Max? You hungry?”
Max bit the hem of his pants and pulled.
“All right, okay, I’ll go with you. Just give me a sec.”
Normally Coco and Max stayed at Beatrice’s supernatural pet school in town. But Beatrice and Lucien had bought the B&B next door to Jasmine’s vineyard to open their second vet school. Thus Max didn’t have to walk too far from the school to the vineyard. But it was still strange to see Max go anywhere without Coco.
Bertram went back into the home office he had set up at Jasmine’s place. The computer had finished the search he’d ordered, and the result was displayed on the screen: zero results found for Ciaran LeBlanc or any other LeBlanc in his police database.
Previously, these results would have hurt his ego. If the LeBlancs were human, he would be able to find them. Even if their profiles were spotless and they had never been on the police radar, there would still be some information. But after having met Ciaran and seeing the technology he had available to him, Bertram wasn’t surprised that his ordinary human database found nothing.
If Jasmine hadn’t left without talking to him first, they would have discussed this together. Access to her supernatural resources would be very useful.
As he turned the computer off, his cell phone rang. It was Beatrice. “Max is here, if that’s why you called, Beatrice.”
“Well, there’s that. But I need you to come over to the school, please.”
“What’s the problem?”
“It’s Coco.”
“You’re the pet expert. What do you need me for?”
“You need to see this.”
“Okay, I’ll be there in five.”
“I think you’re in trouble, Max. What did you do to Coco?” He rubbed Max’s head and grabbed the wrist unit Ciaran had given him. The light was on and still blinking. He wanted to use it more often, but he was worried it would run out of energy. It was the only connection he had with Ciaran, a man he believed knew many facts related to Jasmine’s life. There was no physical option that he could find to turn the device off. When he used voice command, a gentle robotic voice told him that the device ran itself. It could be running in reserved energy mode but would never disconnect or turn off.
He wore the device on his wrist. Because he couldn’t use it, it was like wearing a broken watch. The unit gave him very limited access to data. Still, he knew it was connected to important data sources that were located wherever Ciaran was from. If someone or something knew how to hack this device, Ciaran could be in big trouble.
Bertram’s cell phone rang before he left. “I know you’re on leave, Bertram,” said his boss, “but this is unofficial.”
“Last time you said that, I ended up taking the case at the vineyard.”
“You haven’t thanked me for that yet, Bertram.”
“Thank you. I owe you for that one. I met Jasmine here, couldn’t be happier, and have never looked back.”
“I’m not sure about the never-looking-back part, Bertram. We need you in central. So take your break, then come back to work. But this call is truly off the books.”
“How can I help?”
“Would you recommend Grace for a job with the investigative team in Sydney?”
A chill ran up Bertram’s spine. Grace had turned supernatural. When she mentioned returning to the human police force, he thought it was an impulsive thought on her part, an idea that would pass. Grace was ambitious. She had more power in the magical world than in the human workforce.
“What does this have to do with our team in Melbourne? Even if she put me down as a reference in her transfer application, shouldn’t this call come from the team in Sydney?”
“I told you my question is unofficial. My mate in Sydney ran the internal recruitment process. He knew Grace had worked here, so he wanted my opinion. Apparently, Grace didn’t put any of us down as a reference. My mate thought that was unusual.”
“You know our history. Anything I tell you won’t be impartial. But what I can say is that Grace is professional, and she’s a better detective than I am.”
“Our work requires more than skills and professionalism.”
“Yes, and that’s why I’m not a good person to ask.”
“I need your opinion, and I need it now, Bertram.”
“Why?”
“Because she’s sitting in my office, and I’m in the corridor. My mate called me the night before last. I didn’t say anything then. I think they asked Grace for a reference, and that’s why she’s in my office now. She could have called or emailed—it would’ve been easier for me to say no. But she turned up here and caught me off guard. She did a couple of favors for me in the past, so I don’t feel like I can say no to a simple job reference. And it’s impossible to say it to her face. So, I’m going to tell her I’ll give it to her. But before I do, I want to confirm with you that nothing unusual happened when she joined you in the vineyard case.”
“I’m not sure I know what you mean by unusual. The fact she came here at all was unusual. We weren’t partners in that case.”
“She didn’t turn dark, did she? The undercover case she was on for months before the vineyard case was highly classified. It’s beyond my pay grade to get information about what she did. But on a personal level, I know that working with those high-profile cases sometimes stuffs people up mentally. Did you sense anything unusual at all?”
Bertram looked through the glass door that opened up to the courtyard at the back of the house and saw Grace walk up with her beautiful long gait, sit down on the stone bench, and smile at him.
“Did you say Grace is waiting for you in your office?”
“Yes, and I’m going back in now. If you think of anything, call me.”
His boss ended the call before Bertram could say anything further.
The image of Grace sitting in the courtyard flickered. Something was playing a supernatural trick on him, and that sent his adrenaline soaring.
The wrist unit he was wearing vibrated. He looked at the screen and saw streams of jumbled codes and symbols flowing across it. He knew nothing about programming, but he could tell it was a sign of technology in distress.
The wrist unit was being hacked.
The image of Grace in the courtyard flickered at an incredible speed now.
He couldn’t turn the wrist unit off. Triggering a voice command now so that the device had to respond could be a very bad idea. He had limited access to the data the unit contained, but there was no way in hell he was going to let himself be the conduit for hackers looking to gain access to Ciaran’s technology system, whatever and wherever that was.
He yanked the unit off his wrist, threw it to the floor, pulled out his gun, and fired at the device until it was nothing but tiny pieces of useless metal.
The image of Grace vanished.