by Ariel Tachna
Letting her fangs drop all the way, Pascale punctured the skin beneath her lips, Adèle’s blood rushing to the surface as she sucked lightly. She could taste the difference immediately in comparison to the blood she had taken from non-wizards. Adèle’s blood had an effervescence the others had lacked, as if the magic inside her bubbled through her veins. Pascale swallowed slowly, letting the tingling feeling spread through her as more blood filled her mouth. She was tempted to rush, but she did not know when she would next get to feed from her partner, and she intended to savor every moment they had together.
Cognizant of her partner’s limits, Pascale forced herself not to gorge. If the presenters at the seminar were correct, she would not need to. A normal amount of blood from Adèle would sustain her as much as draining a non-wizard dry.
As always happened when she fed, the sense of intimacy grew with each mouthful of blood, her body reacting as strongly as if Adèle had caressed her. Pascale knew not to expect that, not after their earlier conversation, but nothing could stop her breasts from tightening with the need to be touched.
Adèle forced herself to stay immobile as Pascale fed. Nothing in the vampire’s demeanor reminded her in any way of Jude, only the pinch of fangs in her skin, but the twin impulses to pull away or to pull Pascale closer warred within Adèle nonetheless. She had hated the way Jude treated her, but the actual sensation of him—and now Pascale—feeding from her had not been unpleasant in itself. When she relaxed and let go of the instinctive tension, she felt again how sensual it could be, Pascale’s lips and tongue moving over her skin as she fed.
The awareness woke another memory. As conflicted as it still made her, Jude had known how to get her off, and that carried over now as well, her body reacting expectantly, tensing in anticipation of the rough touch, the confining hands. She focused on Pascale’s blonde head, reminding herself she was with a different vampire now and that she never had to endure Jude’s unwelcome touch again.
Pascale made no move to touch her beyond her hand and wrist, cradling the limb carefully, as if the contact between them was a gift. Perhaps it was for the newly turned vampire, Adèle realized. A chance at something akin to a normal life again, at least for the time Adèle’s magic worked on her. It highlighted once more how wrong everything about her relationship with Jude had been from the very beginning. He had never seen her blood as a gift, but rather as something that was his by right, to demand when he felt like it with no regard for her feelings or wishes. She wondered idly what it would feel like to have that reverent touch elsewhere.
The thought was so foreign she nearly pulled away in shock, only the reluctance to have to explain her sudden withdrawal keeping her from snatching her hand back. She could not seriously be considering this. She liked men, for Christ’s sake! A long, hard cock she could ride into oblivion. She sent a silent curse heavenward, as if her vitriol would have any impact on the magical influence that seemed to push her toward the woman feeding from her wrist.
A few moments later, Pascale withdrew her fangs, licking across the tiny incisions carefully. “Thank you,” she said. “I know it couldn’t have been easy for you to trust me that way.”
Trusting Pascale would be far too easy if she kept on like this. “You’re welcome,” Adèle said roughly. “It may take some time for me to get used to a new partnership, but you aren’t Jude, and if I had any doubts before now, your saying thank you put them to rest. He never thanked me for anything.”
“Somehow I think I’m glad I never met him,” Pascale said with a wry smile. “I would have had a thing or two to say to him about the way he treated you.”
“I don’t know that it would have made any difference,” Adèle said, releasing the spell on the door with a wave of her wand, “but I appreciate the sentiment. I should see if Denis has arrived yet.”
She reached the door before turning back. “Aren’t you coming?”
Pascale’s smile lit up the room, sending another little thrill through Adèle. Maybe this could work after all.
They found Denis in the office Martin had claimed as his over the course of the past week, the two men sitting close on the couch, their heads together as they talked.
Adèle cleared her throat, not wanting to interrupt a private moment. Both heads turned, but neither pulled away, reassuring her on that count. “Bonsoir, Denis. I assume Martin has brought you up to date on what happened with Pierre?”
“Yes,” Denis said. “Terrible business. Martin also said he told you about my theory.”
Adèle nodded. “How strongly do you feel about it? It feels somewhat far-fetched to me, but I don’t know the vampire in question. Could he be delusional enough to think Pascale, Pierre, and any other vampires he might turn against their will would support him against you?”
“I’d love to say I was sure,” Denis said, “but I’m not. It’s totally outlandish, but it’s not outside the realm of possibility either. Logic doesn’t really apply where Renaud is concerned, or he wouldn’t have been so hidebound in his reaction to l’Institut. I never heard the full story of his turning, but I could see him deciding that since he felt grateful to his maker for being turned, other vampires would feel the same, and since he considered being a vampire far superior to being mortal, others would have the same feelings after they were turned, even if they didn’t have a choice.”
“I’m no longer ready to throw myself off a bridge or walk out into the sunlight,” Pascale said, the high of feeding from Adèle still coursing strongly through her body, “but if he expects me to be grateful to him for what he did, he needs to think again.”
“I didn’t say he was right,” Denis reminded them. “I said I could see him believing it. It’s all speculation. He’s from the right time period. He’s missing. He has a motive, albeit a twisted one. I can’t prove it, since Pascale didn’t see his hands and Pierre’s ravings can’t be trusted, not that he actually said anything to identify Renaud, only to tie in with my theory that whoever did this expects gratitude from the ones who were turned.”
“I think Renaud and I should have a little chat,” Adèle declared. “You have no idea where to find him?”
“None,” Denis said. “His old address is empty and up for rent. I checked there already. I asked around the Cour, and no one admits to having seen him since I ousted him six months ago. Both of the known attacks have been in Château-Chinon. Could he have found a place there? Maybe he isn’t even trying to take back my Cour. Maybe he’s trying to create one of his own.”
“I can check on new leases in the area,” Adèle said. “What’s his full name?”
“Guy Renaud. He might not be using his name, though.”
“He probably isn’t,” Adèle agreed, “but a lot of people will use an alias that’s close to their real name. It makes it easier for them to remember. I’ll let you know what I find out.”
“We’ll keep you abreast if we figure out a way to track him without a new victim,” Martin added. “And if you find a new victim, try a tracing spell as soon as you can. Short of catching him in the act, that will probably be our best chance of finding him.”
“Good. We’ll leave you to work then. Jean has my cell if you need to reach me,” Adèle said, guiding Pascale toward the door.
“That went better than I expected,” Denis said when they were alone again. “I expected her to blow me off.”
“I don’t know her that well,” Martin said, “but it seems to me any lead is better than no lead at all. If she finds Renaud and he has an alibi or his voice doesn’t match, she’s no worse off than she was before she talked to him. And if it turns out he is the one we’re looking for, she has an arrest instead of him being out there possibly hurting someone else.”
“She has a reputation,” Denis explained. “A real man-eater. That doesn’t mean she’s irrational or incapable of listening to a good idea just because it comes from a man, but she doesn’t let anyone off lightly either. Given how off the wall my idea is, I wasn’t su
re how she’d react.”
Martin bristled at the thought of Adèle discounting Denis’s idea out of hand. Immediately, he wondered where the defensiveness had come from. If they had been partners, he might have understood it, but they had not taken that step, had not really even contemplated it, and yet here he was, taking umbrage at a slight that had not even occurred because it would have affected Denis. Pushing that thought aside for later reflection, he focused on Denis instead. “Is there a chance Renaud will get word of this and come looking for you?”
Denis shrugged. “Anything is possible. I beat him once. If he comes after me, I’ll beat him again.”
“If he’s alone,” Martin said, “but what if he’s managed to garner support somewhere?”
“Where?” Denis asked. “I’m not blowing you off, but none of my Cour has heard from him. If he had approached vampires in another Cour, that chef de la Cour would have heard of it and contacted me. We may not all be friends, but no chef de la Cour wants to face an unexpected challenge. It happens, of course, like when I challenged Renaud, but I don’t think any of my Cour would welcome him back, so it would be in their best interest as well to tell me if he approached them.”
“What about the vampires he’s turning, if it’s him, of course?” Martin asked.
“Pierre is a pile of ashes, and Pascale wants nothing to do with him,” Denis reminded him. “I’m not seeing a lot of support there.”
“And if he learned from his mistakes?” Martin insisted. “You said he didn’t want anything to do with l’Institut. If he realizes Pascale has ended up completely involved with the vampires here, even if he doesn’t realize what happened to Pierre yet, he might be a little more careful in how he deals with the next vampire he turns, actually taking the time to make sure that vampire is grateful to him. And if it doesn’t get reported as a non-consensual turning, we wouldn’t even know it had happened to have an idea of how many vampires he’s recruited.”
“If he wants the Cour of Autun back, it doesn’t really matter,” Denis said. “To take back the Cour, he would have to challenge me directly in front of the rest of the Cour. Even if he came with supporters, they would be newly turned. Our fight would be one on one, and if his supporters tried to intervene, they would be no match for Auguste or Camille or some of the ancient vampires in my Cour. In a fair fight, Renaud can’t win, and if he fights dirty, he’ll lose the Cour because he broke the rules.”
“You sound so certain,” Martin said. “What if he takes you out completely away from the Cour? What would happen in that vacuum of power?”
“If something were to happen to me,” Denis said, “if I were to get caught in the sunlight or, I don’t know, simply disappear, the Cour would devolve to whoever was strong enough to take and keep it, but it wouldn’t be Renaud. The other members of the Cour would never stand for it.”
“Does Renaud know that?”
“I haven’t the slightest idea what Renaud knows and what he doesn’t,” Denis said with a sharp laugh, running a hand through his hair, messing it up for the first time Martin had ever seen. Wanting to be the one to leave him disheveled that way took Martin completely by surprise. “If I could read his mind, this whole situation might have been avoided in the first place.”
“And then we never would have met.” The words were out before Martin could stop them. He felt his cheeks flame at the admission, but it was too late to call them back.
“And that would have been a shame,” Denis agreed, the smile he sent Martin enough to leave the wizard yearning for the right to touch.
Martin cleared his throat roughly. “So, ah, did you have any other ideas on how to track down Renaud? Anything in vampire lore that would help?”
“The only surefire way I know of for one vampire to track another is for the second vampire to drink the blood of the first vampire’s most recent prey,” Denis said, accepting the momentary change of subject. “That’s how they rescued Orlando during the war, which is also how I know about it.”
“I thought no vampire would feed from another vampire’s Avoué,” Martin said. “Or did I misunderstand?”
“No, you didn’t misunderstand,” Denis replied, “and under normal circumstances, you’d be right, but the way I heard the story told, it had reached a critical point, where if they didn’t rescue Orlando, he wouldn’t have survived to be rescued. Monsieur Lombard, the oldest vampire in France, hell, maybe the oldest vampire in the world at this point, took a few drops of blood from Alain’s wrist onto his hand and used that to locate Orlando. Monsieur Lombard had an Avoué once upon a time as well, so I know he didn’t do it lightly.”
“Okay, so if that’s true, if you can trace a vampire by the last person he fed from, if we find a new victim, could you use that person’s blood to trace Renaud?” Martin asked. “Or would the fact that he or she has been turned mess up the magic?”
“I haven’t the slightest idea,” Denis admitted. “You have to remember I didn’t even know about the ability to track a vampire that way until after I first came to l’Institut. We’d have to ask monsieur Lombard, and I’m not sure we want to beard that lion in its den.”
“He can’t be that imposing,” Martin said. “I mean, Jean is already how old, over a millennium, right?”
“Yes, Jean was turned in the year 911, but you don’t understand,” Denis said with a shake of his head. “Jean is an old vampire, but he’s also a very modern one, with all his contact with l’ANS and l’Institut and the wizards and all the rest. Monsieur Lombard is… different. I don’t even know how to explain it.”
“Would he help us if we asked?” Martin inquired.
“He might,” Denis replied, “or he might refuse to even see us. We’d just have to go to Paris and see.”
Martin nodded. “It’s too late tonight. We couldn’t guarantee that we could get you home before dawn, but maybe tomorrow night. I could talk to Raymond about arranging for someone to take you to Paris.”
“If you really think this is necessary,” Denis agreed, his reluctance obvious in his stance.
“Do you have another suggestion?” Martin asked. “I don’t want to force you into anything, but we’ve got a vampire out there endangering people, mortals and vampires alike. If we can figure out a way to stop him—and tracing him back from his victim would work whether it’s Renaud or someone else—I feel like we should do what it takes.”
“No, you’re right,” Denis said with a deep sigh. “You have to understand, though. I’ve been a vampire for ninety years. To you, that sounds like a long time, but to Jean, and especially to monsieur Lombard, I’m a baby. He may not even agree to meet with us.”
“We have to try,” Martin said.
“I know, but I don’t have to like it.”
“What’s the worst he can do?” Martin asked, his protective instincts coming to the fore at Denis’s continued reluctance. “Refuse to see us, right?”
“No, he can do worse than that. He can invite us in and then spend our entire audience with him subtly denigrating me for my age and inexperience,” Denis said, “and if he really wants to make it bad, he can do so in front of other vampires, pretty much destroying me in le Jeu des Cours. I may be a chef de la Cour, but he’s in a class by himself.”
“Then maybe we shouldn’t go after all,” Martin equivocated. “I don’t want you to lose face. We can keep searching in the library here. With all the resources Jean and Raymond have compiled, there’s sure to be something in there about tracking a vampire.”
“And we could spend weeks with no progress instead of a few hours talking with monsieur Lombard,” Denis replied. “I’m being overly sensitive because of the way Renaud treated me when I challenged him for the Cour. Monsieur Lombard will probably be perfectly gracious to us.”
“Could we ask Jean for advice? He must know monsieur Lombard fairly well, being the chef de la Cour parisienne. Unless asking puts you at a disadvantage where he’s concerned?” Martin suggested.
“I
t does, but I’m already so far at a disadvantage where he’s concerned that I’ll never gain any ground,” Denis said. “Fortunately he sees me as an improvement over my predecessor and so treats me as an equal in front of other vampires rather than as the child we all know I am.”
“Will you stop saying that?” Martin snapped. “You’re not a child, obviously, or you wouldn’t be in control of a Cour. I’m not a vampire, but I know enough to realize your Cour wouldn’t have chosen you to challenge Renaud and take his place if they didn’t see something worthwhile in you. Monsieur Lombard can be as polite or as rude as he wants to be. We’re there with a legitimate question about a real problem. If he chooses to be difficult, that’s his failing, not ours.”
“I’ll talk to Jean before I leave,” Denis said. “I should probably do that now, actually, since it’s getting late. I have an hour’s drive home.”
“I’ll talk to Raymond and call you to set up a time to pick you up for the trip to Paris tomorrow night,” Martin said. He caught Denis’s arm when the vampire started to leave the room. “You may be young by vampire standards, but that only makes what you’ve accomplished in Autun more impressive. Monsieur Lombard will recognize that. You’ll see.”