by Ariel Tachna
Before the other four could blink, Angelique had ushered them back out into the parlor and returned to her office, the door shutting behind her with an audible snick.
“Did she just kick us out?” Denis asked, looking at Jean in bemusement.
“The only reason she isn’t chef de la Cour of Paris is because she doesn’t want to be,” Jean said with a shake of his head. “There is no standing against that woman when she makes up her mind about something. Adèle, I hope you got what you needed, because we won’t get any more tonight.”
“I only stayed through the second part of the conversation because you wouldn’t have had a way back to l’Institut otherwise,” Adèle replied, her stomach churning with the lie. She pushed that thought aside for later, when she was alone and did not have to worry about giving away her inner turmoil. Raymond was far too perceptive, and Adèle had no desire to provoke questions she could not answer. “I didn’t get anything near what I need to catch this guy, but I don’t think she has anything else to tell me, so I’ll make do with what I have and keep an eye and an ear out for other victims. Any criminal activity in all of the Yonne that appears to have magical aspects already gets referred to me, so it won’t surprise anyone to have me ask them to refer turnings to me as well.”
“Let’s go back to l’Institut,” Jean proposed. “Denis, do you have time to stay and chat for a bit, or do you need to go straight home?”
“I have time,” Denis said. “We have quite a bit to talk about, because catching this vampire will not be enough, and we cannot simply dispense vampire justice and be done with it anymore.”
“Certes,” Jean agreed. “Raymond, Adèle, if you will oblige?”
“As soon as Raymond fixes my wand,” Adèle chuckled.
Raymond shook his head and undid the spell Adèle had used to change her wand into a pen so she could take notes. That done, he turned his magic on Denis, taking them both back to l’Institut.
Wand restored, Adèle followed suit, appearing in the courtyard of l’Institut seconds later, Jean at her side.
“If you don’t need me for this conversation,” Adèle said, “I should get home. Tomorrow is a work day for me, and the fact that it’s after midnight now won’t matter in the morning.”
“Go home,” Jean said. “If anything comes out of the conversation that you need to know, we’ll call during the day tomorrow, late enough that we’re sure you’ll be awake and at work.”
“Thanks,” Adèle said. “Denis, Raymond.” She cast another displacement spell before they could answer her.
“Was she even touchier than usual tonight?” Raymond asked.
“Yes,” Jean replied, “but that’s a worry for another time. Denis, I usually have a glass of cognac with Raymond in the evening. Would you care to join us?”
“I haven’t had cognac since I was turned,” Denis said with a laugh. “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt.” The alcohol would have no effect on him, and while he would not taste it with any clarity, it would do him no harm.
“It doesn’t hurt at all,” Jean agreed, “and it’s better than making Raymond drink alone.”
Raymond led them inside and up to the suite of rooms he and Jean used when they were in residence. He left Jean to pour the cognac while he went into the bedroom to hang up his coat, closing the door behind him on his way back out into the sitting room. He and Jean often invited the other faculty of the l’Institut to join them for a drink, but their bedroom, both here and at their apartment in Paris, was private.
Taking a seat, he sipped the cognac and waited for Jean to begin the discussion. He might have an idea of the implications of the last two nights’ events, but he preferred to let Jean take the lead. He was no longer president of l’ANS.
Jean took a sip of his cognac as well. “This isn’t what you usually drink,” he said immediately, turning to Raymond. “When did you change brands?”
“You can taste the cognac?” Denis asked in surprise. “How is that possible?”
“Yes,” Raymond echoed, “how is that possible?”
Jean looked down at the liquor in the glass and then back at the other two men in the room. “I have no idea, but yes, I can taste it.”
“When did you start noticing it?” Raymond asked.
“I didn’t,” Jean said. “I hadn’t noticed it until tonight. Honestly, I didn’t even think about it tonight until Denis pointed it out.”
“Something else to add to our agenda,” Raymond said with a sigh. “I swear we end up with ten new questions for every answer we find, but that can wait until tomorrow. We didn’t invite Denis up here to talk about our research. You have more important things to talk about.”
“You’re right, of course,” Jean said, turning back to Denis. “Do you have any idea who we’re chasing here? Did anything Pascale say tonight give you a hint, even the smallest thing?”
“Not really,” Denis said. “A distinctive voice, but that’s hard to quantify. Many people have distinctive voices. I would recognize your voice instantly, for example, because of the odd way you say certain words. I’ve noticed it especially with very old vampires. Renaud was another perfect example. I don’t know that he’s quite your contemporary, but he’s certainly centuries old. Pascale could identify her attacker again because of that, but we can’t go searching based on it. We’ll need more than that before we can start hunting. I think for now we should focus our attention on what this means to us and how to deal with from a public relations standpoint. If people start to associate one vampire’s bad behavior with all vampires, we could be in for a rough ride.”
“And now that the war has been over for two years, people are starting to forget how instrumental vampires were in winning it,” Raymond added. “That was enough to avoid tarring all vampires with Couthon’s crimes. We have to find a way to do that again.”
“I think our best strategy will be to lead the outcry against him,” Jean said. “Turning a mortal isn’t against vampire law. Turning a mortal without permission isn’t even expressly against vampire law, although perhaps we won’t mention that. But turning a vampire and then abandoning her definitely qualifies as endangering another vampire, even if you don’t go into what his actions will do to the rest of us if he isn’t stopped. If we make it clear to the public that we are outraged by his actions, if we declare him extorris under our law, we at least are seen to side with law and order.”
“Can we declare an unknown vampire extorris?” Denis asked. “How do we enforce it when we can’t even tell the members of our Cours who it is?”
“If nothing else, maybe telling them he’s outcast will be enough to give our vampire second thoughts about his course of action,” Jean said. “If we catch him, then we can identify him. It’s not about our Cours anyway. It’s about the general public.”
“Then there’s the issue of what charges Adèle can bring against him if we do catch him,” Raymond added. “Turning someone into a vampire without their consent isn’t illegal. I don’t think anyone other than maybe the vampire who did it would consider it a good thing, but there is no law on the books declaring it a crime, and until there is, he could only be accused of attacking her. That’s the other first step in this process. We need to get a law on the books to cover this situation so that when he’s arrested, we can charge him with his true crime. The question is where it fits on the scale of offenses, because it isn’t simply a matter of saying it’s illegal to change a person against their will. There will need to be a punishment, or range of punishments, established for the perpetrator of the crime.”
“Certainly assault,” Jean said, “but not homicide.”
“Not even involuntary homicide,” Denis agreed. “Not if the person is turned. They aren’t dead if they’re turned. Undead, but not dead. There is a difference.”
“Obviously,” Raymond said with a chuckle, “since you’re both here talking with me right now. So can we raise it to the level of rape, or do we have to stop at assault?”
&
nbsp; “More importantly, is the sentence that might be a deterrent for a mortal sufficient deterrent for a vampire?” Jean asked. “Five years, ten years, even twenty years, is nothing to a vampire compared to that same time for a mortal.”
“Twenty years for one turning seems reasonable,” Denis said. “I’m not a legal expert, so I don’t know what the comparable crime would be, but because we’re dealing with vampires, each additional non-consensual turning would be an additional twenty years. Sequential sentences instead of concurrent.”
“I don’t know what the equivalent crime would be either,” Raymond said, “but we can find out. It looks like we’ll be taking another trip to Paris. You’re welcome to come if you’d like, Denis, although the legislators we work with have gotten used to Jean being able to go about in daylight. We could see about setting up an evening meeting if you want to attend.”
“I don’t need to meet with the legislators,” Denis said, “and indeed since the criminal is most likely from my Cour, if he belongs to any Cour, I think it would serve us all best if I have a word with them instead of going to Paris.”
“I’ll take you home, then,” Raymond said, setting aside his cognac. “Let us know if you learn anything useful, of course, and we’ll keep you updated on any progress with the legislative agenda.”
Raymond and Denis disappeared with a wave of Raymond’s wand. Jean took another sip of his cognac and waited for his lover to return.
Chapter 5
In a matter of minutes, Raymond reappeared in the sitting room.
“So it isn’t the worst thing in the world to be bitten by a vampire?” Jean drawled, stalking across the room to his lover’s side.
“No, it isn’t,” Raymond replied, hiding his smile. He had deliberately kept his words neutral in talking to Pascale earlier, not wanting to scare her with the possibility of a commitment she would have no way to process. There would be time to broach the subject of l’Institut and partnerships later, when she had recovered from her turning. “In fact, it might even be slightly more than tolerable.”
“Tolera—” Jean’s control snapped, his hands tugging at Raymond’s clothes. A whispered spell sent them to the floor, leaving Raymond gloriously naked and, Jean noticed, fully aroused. As always since their Aveu de Sang, their bodies were totally in sync. “In the bedroom. Now.”
Raymond considered casting another spell to move into the bedroom, but that would deny him the ability to tempt Jean even more as he walked naked across the room. He doubted the fang marks Jean had left on his backside while they were in Paris Sunday night were still visible, but their absence would drive Jean nearly as wild as their presence, his lover’s need to stake a claim almost as overwhelming as Raymond’s desire to be covered in the proof of Jean’s devotion. Raymond reached the bedroom door, looking back over his shoulder. “Are you going to stand there all night, or are you going to join me?”
In less than the blink of an eye, Jean reached Raymond’s side, crowding him through the door and onto the bed. His fangs dropped as he tore off his own clothing, needing blood—Raymond’s blood—now. The moment he was naked, he pounced, bearing Raymond back onto the bed and sheathing his fangs in his lover’s willing flesh. It did not matter where he bit, though they both had their favorite spots. For now he would settle for the taste of Raymond’s blood augmenting the passion he could already feel through their bond.
Raymond’s hands burrowed into Jean’s shoulder-length hair, stroking his scalp as he sucked on the patch of skin right above Raymond’s navel. “Feels so good,” Raymond whispered. They did not need the words, but Raymond gave them to his vampire anyway.
Jean lifted his head, blood coating his fangs. “What would feel best?”
Everything felt best as far as Raymond was concerned, but he enjoyed teasing his lover on occasion. Lifting his hips, he bumped his cock against Jean’s chin, knowing it was the one place Jean would never bite him.
“Vieux con,” Jean muttered, feeling his fangs retract without conscious thought. The Aveu de Sang that bound them made it impossible for him to hurt his lover. Raymond wanted Jean’s mouth on his cock, so his fangs pulled back to make that possible, Jean’s desire to feed irrelevant in the face of his wizard’s request. He lowered his head, taking the rigid shaft in his mouth, licking and teasing the head until Raymond’s fabled self-mastery cracked and he squirmed on the bed. Deciding he liked driving his controlled lover wild, Jean stroked the tip of one long finger over Raymond’s drawn-up sac and then lower to tap against his entrance.
“Putain.” Raymond’s hips bucked up into the tantalizing touch, the motion driving his cock deeper into Jean’s mouth. He had set out to tease his lover, but that had backfired spectacularly. With Jean between his legs, he was completely at the vampire’s mercy.
Not that he minded.
Grabbing the bottle of lube they kept by the bed, he dropped it on the sheet next to Jean’s hand. “Fuck me already.”
“You mean you didn’t get enough of that this weekend?” Jean teased, lifting his head. The moment Raymond’s cock left his mouth, Jean’s fangs reappeared, his need for blood held at bay only by his inability to hurt his lover.
“I’ll never get enough of you,” Raymond swore. He ran his hand up his own chest, lingering over the bite mark on his chest.
Immediately Jean pushed his hand aside, covering the mark with his lips and then deepening it with his fangs. Raymond gasped as Jean sucked at his chest, the movement of his lips drawing blood and stimulating Raymond’s nipple at the same time. Desperate now for the final connection between them, he covered Jean’s cock with lube and guided the shaft to his entrance. He could feel Jean’s hesitation through their bond, but Raymond ignored it. They had made love often enough last night and earlier today that his body would stretch easily.
Jean sensed his reassurance, working his way slowly into Raymond’s body. It seemed to take forever, but neither of them cared for the passing of time. They cared only for the joining of mind, body, and spirit that only existed when they made love this way.
When Jean was fully seated, Raymond’s hands settled on his hips. “Don’t move yet,” he said. “Stay right there, so deep inside me I can feel you all the way up to my heart.”
Jean froze at the husky request. Outside this room, he and Raymond were mostly equals, with Jean occasionally the ascendant one before the Cour of Paris, but in their bedroom, Jean was a slave to Raymond’s desires. If Raymond wanted to draw out their lovemaking so that he came from Jean’s fangs against his heart, Jean would make it so.
Raymond’s eyes closed as Jean stilled within him, only his mouth still working as he drew more and more blood into his mouth. Raymond did not worry about how much Jean took—the Aveu de Sang protected him from overfeeding. Instead he concentrated on the incredibly erotic feeling of Jean’s fangs in his flesh and Jean’s cock in his arse. He swore he could feel it pulse inside him in time to the pounding of his own heart. Jean had explained once that a vampire’s heart beat in time with the heart of the person he had fed from most recently until the next time he fed. Given that Jean would feed from no other while Raymond lived, the beating of their hearts was as entwined as the rest of their lives.
Passion built in Raymond’s gut as he focused on the regular pull of Jean’s fangs. Each time Jean sucked blood into his mouth, Raymond swore he could feel him penetrate deeper until he was sure Jean would touch his heart with the razor-sharp canines. His head spun as his hands dug into the muscles of Jean’s shoulders. He tried to hold back a little longer, but his body had learned too well to associate Jean feeding with the explosive lust between them. Desire built and built, spiraling through him and out across his bond with Jean, only to rush back, augmented by Jean’s need, until nothing existed but that moment in time and space, their bodies as linked as their minds and hearts.
Jean tasted the moment when Raymond’s control shattered, when anything else ceased to exist, even before he felt the hot splash of the wizard’s r
elease between their bodies. The taste of Raymond’s climax in his blood followed by the sweet rush of satiation set fire to Jean as well, his orgasm spooling through him and out of him to fill his lover’s body with proof of his adoration. He gentled his suckling, his fangs resting in Raymond’s chest as his softening cock rested in Raymond’s passage, letting the moment of communion stretch.
Finally, though, he had to lift his head, licking quickly at the bite marks to close them.
“Not that I’m complaining, because you know I’m not, but what brought that on tonight?” Raymond asked. “After last night and this afternoon, I expected it to be a couple of days before you were hungry again.”
“I’m always hungry for you,” Jean said. “I just usually control it better than I did tonight.”
“You know I’m perfectly happy with you not controlling it,” Raymond reminded him with a smile. “This has you worried, doesn’t it?”