Reluctant Partnerships

by Ariel Tachna

  “I’ll drive you,” Raymond said. “That way I’ll know where you live so I can use magic to take you there later.”

  “Thank you,” Pascale said. “It will be good to be home again.”

  Half an hour later, alone in her house, Pascale walked around the familiar rooms, trying to feel at home once again. Everything felt strange, though, as if she were seeing it all through new eyes. Perhaps she was, she mused as she fingered the jewelry box her mother had given her. She supposed she should be glad her mother was not around to see what she had become. Deeply devout, her mother would have had trouble accepting this change in Pascale’s nature. More than once, she had listened to her mother rant about magic being the devil’s own handiwork. It was not an opinion Pascale shared, but it was one she had given up trying to change in her mother.

  Having walked into the kitchen, she opened the cupboards mechanically, staring at the items inside. She would have to see if Secours catholique could send someone by to pick up a donation, because otherwise it would all go to waste. She had no idea if she could still consume any of the food, but she already knew it would not provide any nourishment.

  The big windows she had so coveted when she first saw the house let in the moonlight, a subtle reminder of the danger they now posed. Even knowing moonlight would not hurt her, she suddenly felt exposed with the volets opened. Grabbing the remote, she pressed the button to close all the blinds in the house, cocooning her safely in darkness.

  That brought her thoughts squarely back to the revelation she had been trying to avoid dwelling on: Adèle and the potential partnership between them.

  The idea of having some degree of normalcy in her life again appealed. Being able to move in the daylight, while it went against all her new instincts, would allow her to attend meetings at work and keep her job more easily. Not having to hunt would save her from the awkwardness of approaching potential donors only to be rebuffed as she had been too many times in her life when she had approached someone who interested her. Most importantly, having someone to share her life and help her adjust to all the changes in her body and her abilities would be a great comfort. The only problem with that image was her inability to envision Adèle being comforting. Adèle had tried to reassure her the night Pascale was turned, taking her to l’Institut, assuring her she was not a monster, but Pascale had not felt safe until she was in Paris with Angelique. Of course, Adèle’s realization of their potential partnership that night might have influenced her attitude and actions, but her comments tonight did not give Pascale any hope that the intervening days had changed Adèle’s reaction to the situation. Adèle had no desire for another partner, end of discussion, which left Pascale in limbo again. She could try to persuade Adèle to give her a chance, but that seemed a venture doomed to failure with the wizard’s previous partner having spoiled the idea of partnerships for her. She could try to find a different partner, if that was possible, but Raymond and Jean did not seem to have much hope for that.

  With a sigh, she fell back on the safety of routine, walking upstairs to her bedroom and getting ready for bed. She was not going to solve this problem tonight, and she had other, more pressing matters to deal with first, like making sure she still had a job and that her employer would work around her new limitations. Once she was sure she could survive on her own, she would think about finding a partner.

  Adèle knocked on the door of the building she had identified as the residence of Denis Langlois. She hoped he was in, but she was prepared to wait if he was not. Anything was better than returning home, where her thoughts would chase her out of bed or follow her into her dreams if she managed to sleep.

  “Yes?”

  “I’m sorry to disturb you, monsieur Langlois,” Adèle said, “but I was hoping you could go over a list of names with me to see if there are any I’ve missed or any I’ve included incorrectly.”

  “This relates to the turning the other night?” Denis asked.

  “Yes, the victim commented on her attacker’s voice being distinctive, much like Jean’s in accent, though not in pitch,” Adèle explained. “We’re hoping to use that to narrow down the list of possible suspects based on when a vampire was turned. Jean suggested I talk to you, since you’re more familiar with the vampires in this area than he is.”

  “I have the records,” Denis said, “although my predecessor was not always meticulous about updating them. Depending on when a vampire was turned or came to Autun, I may not have records. I’ve been trying to fill in the missing information, but I’ve only been in my position for six months.”

  “Yes, I remember hearing about your accession to the role,” Adèle said. “Right in the middle of the attacks at l’Institut. I should have come then to introduce myself and to congratulate you, but I was a little tied up with that investigation.”

  “What years are you looking for?” Denis asked.

  “Before 1500,” Adèle said. “We don’t have a beginning date, although Jean was turned in the year 911, and she said the accent was the same, so the closer to that date someone was turned, the more likely they are to have the same accent.”

  “That predates Renaud’s reign as chef de la Cour,” Denis said, “so unless an older vampire came to Autun later, we should have complete records.”

  He led Adèle into the library and pulled out a huge leather-bound sheaf of vellum pages. “The records of the Cour d’Autun,” Denis said. “Before 1500, you say? Let’s start there and work backward.”

  They spent the next hour checking records against Adèle’s list. Many of the vampires inscribed on the pages were no longer extant, driving home to Adèle the desolation of their solitary existences, but by the time they reached the beginning of the genealogies, she had added ten names to her list, including that of the former chef de la Cour.

  “My understanding is that he was pretty vehemently opposed to l’Institut,” Adèle said as she wrote Renaud’s name at the bottom of her list. “Could he have something to do with this?”

  “I suppose it’s possible,” Denis said, “but I don’t see any connection between l’Institut and turning that poor woman against her will. Certainly Renaud didn’t want l’Institut in Dommartin and would have been happy not to have it exist anywhere, but he lost that battle when he lost the Cour because of his attitude. I haven’t seen him since he lost our fight, so I don’t even know if he’s still in the area.”

  “Could he still be in the area without your knowledge?” Adèle asked.

  “I’m sure he could be,” Denis replied. “Being chef de la Cour doesn’t give me some magical ability to sense other vampires. It’s somewhere between an elected position and a military one. I won my role by force and hold it through a combination of guile and strength, but I was the one who fought Renaud by the will of the other members of the Cour. As long as Renaud didn’t do anything to draw attention to himself, he could be next door and I wouldn’t know it.”

  “And I can’t do a seeking spell on him without his blood, so that’s no help,” Adèle said, thinking of the challenges they had faced in creating repères for the vampires during the war, when everyone had carried a link to the locator map with them while on duty. “If you see him, I’d like to speak with him. Now what about the others on the list? Do you know of any reason why any of them would attack someone the way Pascale was attacked?”

  Denis examined the list. “Auguste is a crotchety old vampire with more opinions than sense sometimes, but he seemed far more concerned with protecting the Cour and our new rights than with defending himself. Well, that and not involving mortals in vampire business, but he came around to the realization that he couldn’t have his rights and no involvement with mortals at the same time. The others live largely in retirement except to hunt. I suppose Pascale’s turning could have been a hunting accident, but a vampire of this age should have had the sense and the experience to stop before that happened, and a newly turned vampire wouldn’t have had the right accent. I’m sorry I’m not more help.�
�

  “I appreciate you taking the time you have,” Adèle replied. “I may be back with more questions as I try to narrow down my list of suspects further. For all we know, it wasn’t a local vampire who did this.”

  Chapter 11

  Two days later, Denis arrived at l’Institut for a meeting with Jean and Raymond to discuss the legislative options and to make a plan for the public relations nightmare that was sure to follow.

  He nodded his thanks to Alain as he walked into Jean and Raymond’s office, surprised to see a third person already there, someone he did not know.

  “Bonsoir, Denis,” Raymond said, offering his hand. He had learned not to expect either of the vampires to speak first. If one of them had not been a chef de la Cour, that one would have unbent enough to acknowledge the other’s presence without prompting, but between two chefs de la Cour, even allied ones, that tension never fully went away. “I don’t believe you’ve met Martin yet.”

  “No, I haven’t,” Denis said, turning his attention to the third occupant of the room. The man rose and offered his hand as well. Denis took it, his gaze raking over the other man’s body. They were of a height, a little less than two meters, but Martin was considerably broader through the shoulders than Denis, a man’s body rather than the body of a nineteen-year-old boy. Denis might have lived more than a man’s lifetime, but his body had not aged since his changing on the battlefields of Amiens. Laughing hazel eyes topped Martin’s high cheekbones and narrow chin, bringing a matching smile to Denis’s lips. “Denis Langlois, chef de la Cour d’Autun.”

  “Martin Delacroix,” Martin said. “I’m on sabbatical from Canada for the year.”

  Another wizard, then, Denis thought, not sure he wanted yet another wizard in his life. This one, though, stirred something in him he had not felt since Noël died. “Enchantée,” Denis said, the word more than merely lip service for once. “What will you be doing here at l’Institut?”

  “That’s what I was just discussing with Raymond and Jean,” Martin answered. “I’m a researcher as well and fascinated by the partnerships. Do you have a partner?”

  “I haven’t been fortunate enough to find one yet,” Denis replied, glossing over the fact that he had made no real effort to find one either. He thought he saw amusement on Jean’s and Raymond’s faces, but he ignored them. He had fed from his share of mortals since Noël’s death, but he had not felt this immediate resonance with another person since the moment he first laid eyes on the man who became his lover until age and infirmity stole him away. If Jean and Raymond chose to find amusement in his reaction, Denis would point out their own obvious infatuation with each other in reply. People in glass houses…. “What about you?”

  “I’m not looking for a partner,” Martin said immediately. “I’m only here for a year. If I did find a partner, I’d want it to be with a Canadian vampire. I’ve enjoyed my few days here so far, but Montréal is home. That said, I find the idea of the partnerships fascinating. To be so much the center of each other’s worlds and to create such a symbiotic relationship is something most people can only dream of, no matter what they purport to feel for each other. But you came for business, not to listen to me wax poetic on a subject I’m only beginning to explore. I should leave you three to talk.”

  “Please stay,” Denis said. “As an outsider, you might have some insight we’ll miss because we’re so caught up in the situation.”

  “If you’re sure,” Martin said, glancing at Raymond and Jean, who nodded their agreement. He returned to his seat, his eyes following Denis despite himself. The vampire was striking, as much for the dichotomy between his apparent youth and his commanding presence as for his looks, though with his short dark hair slicked back from his forehead, his appearance was striking as well. It was his eyes that held Martin’s attention, though, his gaze laser sharp as he focused on the matter that had brought him to l’Institut.

  “I met with my Cour,” Denis began. “They’re understandably concerned and not entirely convinced our policy of denouncing the extorris will work, but no one challenged the banishment of the man, whoever he is.”

  “I met with mine as well,” Jean replied, “to much the same reaction, although the Parisian vampires are somewhat more used to following my lead than perhaps yours are.”

  Denis laughed. “I would imagine that’s very true, since the vampires in Autun have had only six months to accept my leadership. Even if I were your age, they wouldn’t be used to me yet. At my age, half of them are still convinced it was a mistake to send me to face Renaud. What about the legislation? Have you made any progress on that?”

  “We met with Anne-Marie Valour, the new president of l’ANS, and her staff,” Raymond replied. “They are drafting a proposed bill to make nonconsensual turning a crime on the same level as aggravated rape. Obviously in Pascale’s case, there was no sexual contact, but the attack on her was penetrative, and the consequences as serious or worse than the consequences of a rape. The law requests double the time of incarceration, since as a vampire, the perpetrator would have a much longer lifespan and so twenty years would be relatively little, but the staff warned us we might have to compromise on that aspect.”

  “As long as it’s a crime, I’m less concerned about the penalty,” Denis said. “Our problem right now is being able to cast the extorris as a criminal. We can find his behavior abhorrent, but being able to point out that we proposed legislation to make his actions a crime will go a long way toward proving our point.”

  “What penalty would he face under vampire law?” Martin interrupted. “I don’t know the word extorris, but it’s obviously a term in vampire society for someone who has passed outside the norms of accepted behavior. So what would happen to him if vampires judged him?”

  “Vampires see it from a different perspective,” Denis replied. “He isn’t extorris because he turned Pascale, even against her will. He’s extorris because he abandoned her. If Detective Rougier hadn’t found her, she would have been destroyed, and that constitutes harming another vampire, which is against all the tenets of vampire society.”

  “That doesn’t answer my question,” Martin asked. “What penalty would he face?”

  “Given that Detective Rougier did find her in time, probably banishment from the Cour,” Denis replied. “The three outcomes of a judicium, a vampire trial, are banishment, incarceration, or extinction. If she had not survived, he would certainly have been sentenced to extinction as well. And before you say it, I know banishment doesn’t sound like much of a consequence, but while vampires are not a communal race the way a werewolf pack is, we do rely on the Cour for our livelihoods. That’s changing somewhat now that we are more integrated into French society, but being excluded from vampire society often resulted in a vampire being destroyed either because he was caught or because he no longer had a place to seek refuge from the sun.”

  “And before you decide that’s too harsh a punishment,” Jean added, “we lived in fear for millennia of being found and destroyed by the mortals around us. A vampire who endangers that cannot be allowed around other vampires. We agreed when the antidiscrimination legislation passed two years ago to honor French law now, so the label of extorris is more about communicating our opinion on the situation to the Cours than it is a judgment. There will be no judicium for this vampire. He will face his crimes under French law.”

  “Is that good or bad?”

  Denis shrugged. “Some of both, probably. The threat of extinction is gone, since France doesn’t have the death penalty, but the advantages to vampire society as a whole make that threat less of an issue now. In theory, anyway, we don’t have to worry about one person’s bad judgment leading to racial cleansing like we used to fear. As long as the antidiscrimination legislation holds.”

  “Do you really think it won’t?” Martin asked.

  “I think it will,” Denis said, “but I also think we’re in for some rough times if we don’t catch this guy quickly. There’s a difference betw
een equal rights on paper and in the way people act, and for people who weren’t in Paris during the war, the assistance the vampires gave isn’t nearly as obvious. When the legislation passed, I heard people in Autun wondering what the big deal was because Autun is small enough that Serrier didn’t ever attack there. If we can spin it well, we should be safe, but if panic sets in, I wouldn’t bet on it.”

  “You know you and your Cour are always welcome here,” Raymond offered, “should it come to that. Adèle’s wards will hold, and there are always wizards here to shore them up if they start to give. It might be a little crowded depending on how widespread the panic grows, but we can squeeze a lot of people into the different buildings if we have to.”

  “Merci,” Denis said with a nod of his head. “I hope it won’t come to that, but it’s nice to know the option exists should we need it. Have you given any more thought to a public relations campaign?”