by Ariel Tachna
“So what did you want to talk to me about?” Denis asked when they were seated.
“Our partnership or lack of one,” Martin said slowly. “What you said to Pierre tonight. I didn’t come to France looking for complications.”
“I wasn’t aware you’d found any,” Denis replied coolly. “I haven’t—I won’t pressure you into anything. I made a decision when I was turned that I would always be in control of my instincts, not the other way around. If you don’t want a partnership, I certainly won’t force you into one.”
“That isn’t what you said the other night,” Martin said. “Not about pressuring me. That didn’t come out right. The other night, you said you didn’t want a partner either. Now you seem to be suggesting you’d be interested if I were.”
“Vampires live a very long time,” Denis said with a sigh. “It gets tiresome, always being alone. A part of me sees a partnership as a way to avoid that for a time. When I completed my seminar, I didn’t go through the matching process. I told myself I didn’t need a partner and that with my leadership in the Cour so new, I didn’t have time to devote to one. I’ve deliberately avoided coming back to l’Institut on Sundays so I wouldn’t get swept up into a match without meaning to. And then your magic didn’t work on me. I didn’t ask for a partner, but it would seem I have one anyway, and there’s a part of me that wants it despite everything else.”
A curl of warmth spread through Martin’s chest at the realization that Denis was not as unaffected as he appeared. “So what happens now?”
“Nothing,” Denis said. “You don’t want a partner. You’re going back to Canada at the end of a year. There’s nothing else to say.”
“So that’s it? We just ignore the fact that we could be partners?” Martin demanded, not entirely sure where his belligerence was coming from. He had spent a lot of time thinking about the complications of distance and responsibilities, but obstacles could be overcome with planning and dedication. He was a scientist, used to working odd hours and being alone because no one would put up with his crazy schedule, but a part of him yearned for someone to share his life, a partner to celebrate his successes with him and console him in his defeats. “What about the benefits? What about—”
“What about the fact that you live in Canada and I live in Autun?” Denis interrupted. “I’ll be the first to admit I don’t know much about the partnerships beyond what I learned in the seminar and what I’ve observed in the wizards and vampires around me, but this isn’t a temporary thing. We’d be fools to walk into it blindly. You hardly know me. You can’t tell me you’re ready to upend your life because of me.”
“No, I can’t,” Martin replied, more calmly than he felt, “but I’m not ready to walk away without exploring the possibilities simply because it’s complicated. I’m a wizard. Distances are not the hurdle to me that they are to most people. Yes, I have a job in Canada, but that doesn’t mean I couldn’t look for another job. Yes, you have a home here in Autun, but that doesn’t mean you couldn’t spend part of the year in Montréal. There could be very workable solutions to the obstacles to our partnership if we take the time to find them.”
“So what are you suggesting?”
“I don’t know,” Martin said, running his hand through his already mussed hair, “but I heard you tell Pierre not to touch me. It doesn’t require a PhD or a trained observer to see how pivotal the partnerships are to the people here at l’Institut, and when you said that, I had this sudden flash of longing. I’m not saying we should rush in blindly, but would it be so terrible to get better acquainted, to see if there could be something worth fighting for between us?”
Denis could think of plenty of reasons why it would be terrible, not the least because he already knew what it felt like to bury a lover. He did not regret his time with Noël, only the fact that it had ended. Martin was a young man, far younger than Noël had been when he and Denis had started their relationship, and he was a wizard, so he would live longer, but separation would inevitably come. “Let me think about it,” he said finally. “It’s a lot to consider.”
“Will you still come back tomorrow to help with Pierre?” Martin asked. “Even if you haven’t made your decision, tonight proved I can’t deal with him alone.”
“Whatever I decide, I’ll still help with Pierre,” Denis confirmed, the thought of the new vampire lunging for Martin the way he had lunged for Raymond enough to send a chill down Denis’s back.
“I’ll show you out,” Martin said, trying to hide his disappointment. He told himself the reaction was irrational, but it did not help. He had gambled and lost.
Martin walked Denis out to his car, nodding politely as the vampire unlocked it and climbed in. He did not wait to watch Denis drive away. That felt far too final.
Alone finally, Denis pulled out his cell phone and made the call he had thought several times about making since learning he had a potential partner.
“Allô?”
“Luc Cabalet?”
“Yes, this is Cabalet.”
“This is Denis Langlois. I don’t know if you remember me.”
“Of course I do,” Luc’s voice said through the line. “I haven’t heard from you in years. How are you doing?”
“As well as can be expected,” Denis replied. “I was hoping you might have a few minutes for an old protégé in the next few days. I need some advice and didn’t know who else to turn to.”
“You’re in Autun, right?” Luc asked.
“Well, not right this moment, but yes, I live in Autun,” Denis replied.
“My partner is in Dommartin, apparently,” Luc said. “I could have her pop over and pick you up on her way back tonight.”
“Your… partner?” Denis repeated. “As in a wizard partner?”
“Yes,” Luc replied. “I take it you’re aware of l’Institut Marcel Chavinier.”
“I’m actually there right now,” Denis said. “That’s part of what I wanted to talk to you about.”
“Stay right where you are,” Luc instructed. “I’ll call Magali and have her bring you home with her from l’Institut. She called to say she’d be late. Something about a wizard being attacked by a vampire.”
“I’ll fill you in when I get there,” Denis promised. “That’s a small part of what I wanted to talk to you about, one chef de la Cour to another, but mostly it’s about my… partner. Potential partner, I guess I should say.”
“This sounds like an interesting conversation,” Luc said, his amusement carrying through the connection. “Wait for Magali in the foyer of the main hall. I don’t know how long she’ll be, but I’ll remind her you can’t go out in sunlight.”
He hung up before Denis could say thank you or goodbye, but Denis was not that surprised. Luc had never been overly concerned with formality.
Stepping back out of his car, he went inside to wait for Magali, hoping she would know to look for him, since he had never met her before. A few minutes later, a tall, statuesque blonde entered the hall. “Denis Langlois?
“Yes, I’m Denis.”
“I’m Magali Ducassé, Luc Cabalet’s partner. He asked me to bring you back to Amiens with me.”
“If it’s not too much trouble,” Denis replied.
“No trouble at all,” Magali assured him. “A flick of my wand and a simple spell and we’re off.”
“And you’ll be able to send me back here when Luc and I have finished talking?” Denis verified.
“Of course,” Magali said. “I can probably even send you home if you can give me enough detail.”
“My car’s here,” Denis demurred.
“Shall we go, then?”
Denis nodded and braced himself for the odd sensation of the displacement spell. Within seconds, he was once again in the salon where he had spent the first few hours after his turning. “Good to see you again, Denis,” Luc said, offering his hand.
Denis shook it. “And you as well. I see nothing has changed since the last time I was here.”
“Of course,” Magali said. “I’ll be in my room when Denis is ready to return to l’Institut.”
She withdrew, leaving the two men alone. “I have to admit, I’m having trouble imagining you with a partner,” Denis said when she was gone. “After Fabien was killed, you always swore you’d never commit to any one mortal again.”
“Fabien was special,” Luc agreed, thinking of the young man who had been his lover during World War I and in the years following before he was killed at the start of World War II. “Magali is… different. She is both more and less than what Fabien was to me.”
“In what sense?”
“When Fabien and I first met, he saw me as an older, dashing gentleman with sophisticated tastes and enough money to indulge those tastes, even during the war,” Luc explained. “He did not even know I was a vampire until several months after we began our liaison. By the time I first fed from him, he was so smitten he would have accepted anything if it meant we could be together. With Magali, the reverse was true. The relationship started out as functional, practical. Neither of us has any illusions of being in love with the other. Her blood lets me function in daylight, it adds to my strength, but while I enjoy her company outside of feeding and while I enjoy her blood when I do feed, I’m not taken with her the way I was with Fabien.”
“That explains how she is less,” Denis said, thinking of Noël and how much he had loved the man. “How is she more?”
“Fabien’s blood was never enough,” Luc explained. “I couldn’t feed from him exclusively. Even if I never slept with any of the others, I fed from them. With Magali, I don’t have to go anywhere else unless I choose to.”
“And do you choose to?”
“Yes,” Luc replied, “if only to prove that I can. But you didn’t come here to talk about my partner. What can I do for you?”
“I didn’t know you had a partner when I called,” Denis said, “but that’s what I need to talk about. As I said before, I apparently have a partner if I want one. There’s a wizard at l’Institut visiting from Canada, and his magic doesn’t work on me. I went through a seminar, so I know how a partnership works—”
“You know how their partnerships work,” Luc interrupted. “Don’t misunderstand. I have nothing but respect for Bellaiche and the others in Paris and at l’Institut, and I don’t think they’re deliberately misleading anyone, but they’re basing their seminar on their experiences. An Aveu de Sang, and how many couples who were caught in a burst of wild magic that apparently couldn’t be resisted. Those of us like Magali and myself, who weren’t part of that, have partnerships without having all-encompassing bonds.”
“Do you have all the benefits?”
“All the benefits?” Luc repeated. “I couldn’t say, but Magali’s blood protects me from sunlight, and I am undoubtedly stronger now than I was before I started feeding from her. If I haven’t put her on a pedestal and made her the center of my life, that’s our choice, and believe me, she would make my life hell if I tried to do that to her.”
Denis chuckled. “Independent, is she?”
“You have no idea,” Luc said with a smile. “I don’t know that I’ve been much help to you, but now you know there’s a path between all and nothing.”
“How do you walk it?” Denis asked. “How do you keep it from becoming all-consuming?”
“You make that choice,” Luc said with a shrug. “Every time you feed. Every time you fuck, if you let it go that far. You talk about it and set the ground rules. Magali and I don’t sleep together. She lives here, but she has her own room, and she returns there every night even if she comes to my room first. I sleep in my own bed even if I feed from her in her bed first. If she had been local when our partnership formed, she probably would not even live here. She’s talked, a couple of times, about finding an apartment of her own, although she hasn’t done anything about it as far as I know.”
“Martin is from Canada,” Denis said slowly. “He doesn’t seem disturbed by my gender, and you know I’m not bothered by his, so that’s one obstacle out of the way, but that seems to be the only one. He’s here for a year with plans to return home at the end of that time. I’m tied to Autun.”
“I see your problem,” Luc said slowly. “I know Magali pops from here to Paris to Dommartin like it’s nothing, but I have no concept of whether that would be possible from Canada, assuming he’s willing to make that commute, of course. That would be a question for a wizard. How committed are you to your Cour? You’re young for the role.”
Denis shrugged. “It just sort of happened that way. Renaud had to go, and I was willing to do it.”
“That could well be your solution, then,” Luc said. “If the handover of power is voluntary, you could choose any vampire in the Cour to take your place.”
“I would have to be sure Renaud isn’t waiting in the wings to take back over if I step down,” Denis mused aloud.
“Have you seen him since you took power?”
“No, but I haven’t heard of him being anywhere else either,” Denis replied. “I’m still half convinced he’s waiting for a moment of weakness to challenge me. It’s only been six months.”
“Would he find any support within the Cour?”
“No, he’d have to recruit support from out—merde!”
“What?” Luc asked sharply.
“Nothing,” Denis said, not ready yet to share the idea that had suddenly occurred to him. He would have to think it over before he was ready to share this particular thought. “Thank you for your time tonight. I’m sure I’ll see you at the Congrès des chefs, if not before. Could you ask Magali to send me back to l’Institut?”
“If you need help,” Luc offered, “call me. Yes, I’m another chef de la Cour, but first and foremost, I’m your maker. If there’s any vampire you can trust, I’m it.”
“I know,” Denis said. “That’s why I called to talk to you about the partnerships. This might be nothing, but if it isn’t, you’ll be among the first to know.”
Chapter 14
Pascale summoned a shy smile for the wizard who arrived on her doorstep to fetch her for the seminar at l’Institut. She had offered to drive, but Raymond had shooed aside her concerns, assuring her that all the vampires would arrive with a magical escort and that way she would not have to worry about standing out from the crowd. She suspected no amount of magic on Raymond’s part could stop that from happening, but she had agreed to prolong the inevitable moment when the others realized she was different. She ought to be used to the feeling after all the times it had happened in her life, from the first time a classmate realized she was gay to the stilted conference call at work on Friday as she tried to explain to her coworkers why she could no longer attend meetings in person. It had yet to get easier. “I hope I haven’t brought too much,” she said when the wizard approached.
The man glanced down at the bag at her feet. “I’ve seen people bring more. I’m Alain, by the way.”
“Orlando’s Alain?” Pascale asked, flushing when she realized how that had come out. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that the way it sounded, but I spoke with Orlando last week, and he was very kind. He couldn’t say enough wonderful things about you.”
Alain chuckled. “I can think of far worse things you could say about me than to describe me as Orlando’s. Yes, I am Orlando’s Avoué. Are you ready to go?”
Pascale nodded, bracing herself for the disorienting displacement to l’Institut. To her surprise, the sensation was not nearly as strong as she had expected. “Either you’re really good at this or I’m getting used to being whisked around by wizards.”
Alain smiled. “Let’s get you inside. Madame Naizot will show you to your room.”
Pascale followed him inside as he handed her off to the matronly woman who escorted
her to one of the monks’ cells, transformed much as the one Adèle had rested in the night before. Pascale pushed aside all thought of her potential partner. She needed to concentrate on the seminar this week. She could think about Adèle next week, when she had a better sense of what she was getting into.
She took a few minutes to unpack, needing the time to settle her nerves. When everything was set out to her satisfaction, she wandered out of the room toward the réfectoire. A number of people had already gathered there, but no one she knew. Feeling horribly out of place, she hung back against one wall, hoping eventually someone she knew would come in and introduce her around.
“Are you hiding from someone, or is the wall really that interesting?”