The Beautiful (The Beautiful #1)(72)

Michael sniffed with unmistakable scorn. “Finally a semblance of sense.” He nodded at Odette, who offered him a mocking bow in return.

“I knew you would not agree at first,” Celine replied. “But by tomorrow, I hope you will see the logic of it. How it makes sense for us to take action rather than be forced into a corner.”

“Logic?” Odette snorted. “It’s madness, mon amie. Sheer madness. I finally understand why you lied to Pippa before we left the convent. You must have known she would never accept this as an option.”

“Pippa is . . .” Celine exhaled with great care. “I don’t want Pippa anywhere near me, at least not until this ordeal is over. She’s not selfish enough to worry about her own safety.” The image of Pippa trembling in a puddle—her eyes shining and streams of blood trickling down her cheek—was one Celine would not soon forget.

“Failing to worry about one’s own safety isn’t selfless. It’s foolish.” Odette quirked a brow, her lips puckering in judgment.

Celine nodded. “I agree. But I don’t have the patience to argue with Pippa about it. It isn’t my place to dissuade her. And I’d rather be the hunter than the prey. Wouldn’t you?”

A contemplative look settled on Odette’s face at the same time a frown tugged at the corners of Michael’s mouth.

“Then I have your support?” Celine asked Odette.

Inhaling slowly, Odette nodded. “Though I’m certain I’ll live to regret this.”

“You won’t,” Celine said, infusing her voice with a surety she did not feel. “Thank you, Odette.” With that, she shifted her attention toward Michael.

His displeasure deepened at her scrutiny. “I have no intention of agreeing to this plan, so spare yourself the effort,” he said, his words characteristically curt. Unfeeling. “It was folly to come here. For both of us.” Michael pivoted in place and began walking toward the double doors at the hotel’s entrance. “I’ll send for your things in the morning, then make my way to the Dumaine shortly afterward to collect you,” he said over his shoulder.

A crick in Celine’s neck sent a surge of discomfort down her spine. She tilted 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.