by Ariel Tachna
“Did I hear someone say that monsieur Lombard partnered temporarily with Général Chavinier during the war?” Denis asked.
Martin shook his head. “I wouldn’t know. Too many unfamiliar names all at once when I went through the seminar. I retained the facts related to the partnerships, but not who paired with whom.” Reaching the doorstep, they rapped on the heavy brass knocker. A few moments later, a slender redheaded woman opened the door.
“May I help you?”
“I’m Martin Delacroix and this is Denis Langlois, chef de la Cour of Autun,” Martin said by way of introduction. “Raymond Payet from l’Institut said he would call to let monsieur Lombard to know to expect us.”
“Yes, come in,” the woman said. “I will tell him you’re here. You can wait in the salon.” She ushered them into a formal parlor lit by gas lamps and a low fire in the fireplace.
“He could leave us here cooling our heels for hours,” Denis muttered.
“I could,” a deep voice said from the other entrance to the parlor, “but that would not be polite.”
Martin and Denis turned toward the sound as the source of the voice stepped into the light. Martin swallowed an instinctive gasp at his first sight of monsieur Lombard. The vampire was easily two meters tall, towering over Martin and Denis, his white hair pulled back into a tight queue at his neck, a full beard, neatly trimmed, covering the lower half of his face. At Martin’s side, Denis tensed, but monsieur Lombard waved them toward the couch. “Sit and stop staring at me like you’re afraid I’ll have you for lunch. I’ve already fed this evening.”
“Christophe, do stop terrorizing the children,” the man Martin and Denis had seen arriving said, appearing at the vampire’s side. “Marcel Chavinier, since I’m sure our host will forget to introduce me.”
“Quit meddling in affairs that aren’t your concern, Marcel,” monsieur Lombard muttered, but he made no move to escort the wizard from the room.
“Don’t pay any attention to him,” Marcel insisted. “He’s just grumpy tonight for some reason.”
“I am not grumpy,” monsieur Lombard fumed, but Marcel ignored him.
“So, Christophe said you needed his help,” Marcel went on. “What seems to be the problem?”
Martin could not stop himself from searching what he could see of the other wizard’s skin for bite marks, although he did not see how monsieur Lombard could have fed from the wizard in the short time between his arrival and theirs. He could find no visible marks. Glancing at Denis, he nodded for the vampire to explain.
Quickly, Denis brought the two men up to date on everything that had transpired with Pascale, Pierre, and the involuntary turnings.
“That’s quite the conundrum,” Marcel agreed.
“We were hoping monsieur Lombard might have some insight into how to track down our vampire,” Martin added when Denis had finished his tale. “We heard how you helped find Orlando during the war.”
“The problem is that while we might find the person he’s fed from most recently if we find another newly turned vampire, we aren’t sure that will work, since the person has been turned,” Denis said.
“I see the problem,” monsieur Lombard agreed. “I’ve never heard of anyone trying to track a vampire’s maker that way, even a newly turned one, because usually a vampire’s maker is right there with him or her until long after the new vampire has fed and that illusory magical bond is broken. Involuntary turnings are rare, as I’m sure you know.”
“What about a tracing spell instead of a bite?” Marcel asked. “If you had a newly turned vampire and no wizard had cast a spell on that person yet, then the last person to do magic on them would be their maker. Could you track the vampire that way?”
“Would that kind of magic be detectable by our methods?” Martin answered. “It wouldn’t be a spell.”
“No, but it’s definitely magic,” Marcel insisted. “And while vampires can’t cast spells the way a wizard can, they can do magic. When Orlando and Alain formed their Aveu de Sang, I could feel the moment they became magically bound, and when I explored the brand magically, I could sense the bond between them. I couldn’t affect it, but I could tell it was there.”
“There may be other options I haven’t yet thought of as well,” monsieur Lombard interjected. “My library is vast and my memory less than photographic.”
“It’s the curse of old men,” Marcel said with a grin.
“Speak for yourself,” monsieur Lombard snapped back. “I am in my prime.”
Marcel’s smile deepened. “I shall expect you to prove that assertion.”
To Martin’s surprise, monsieur Lombard chuckled. “It will be my very great pleasure. Gentlemen, if there is nothing else, it would appear I have a challenge to meet.”
“No, nothing else,” Denis said, rising immediately and pulling Martin with him. “Thank you for your help. You’ll let Jean know if you think of anything else that might help us?”
“Of course,” monsieur Lombard replied, already heading toward the door by which he had entered, herding Marcel ahead of him. “Mireille will show you out.”
“That was….”
“Not what I expected,” Denis agreed as they returned to the foyer where Mireille waited to walk them to the door.
She bid them a good evening and shut the door behind them, leaving them alone on the street outside. “It’s still early,” Martin said. “Do you want to stay in Paris for a while? I haven’t actually made it up here since I came to France.”
“I suppose we could find a café or something to sit and discuss what we learned,” Denis replied.
That had not been quite what Martin had intended, but he let it slide for now. He could bring up more personal topics after they had finished discussing their meeting with monsieur Lombard.
They wandered off l’île St-Louis and down the rue St-Paul toward the place des Vosges. They found a likely looking bistro, large enough to serve dinner but not so large that it was crowded, and took a table in the back. To Martin’s surprise, Denis ordered a meal as well.
“I thought vampires couldn’t eat regular food,” he said when the server had left.
“It doesn’t do anything for us,” Denis said, “but it doesn’t hurt us either. I often ate with Noël so we could go out together. Everyone was more comfortable that way, me included. It’s no hardship to do so now.”
“You must have loved him very much.”
“I did,” Denis agreed. “I do. He’d fuss at me for being here with you and talking about him. He was never one to live in the past or the future. For him, only the present moment mattered. It was one of the things I loved about him. If he could speak with me now, I know he’d tell me he’s been gone thirty years and that’s long enough, that it’s time to let him go, but that’s easier said than done.”
“And yet what is the alternative?” Martin asked seriously. “Decades or even centuries alone with anonymous encounters to see to your needs? Is it worth passing up a new companion out of devotion to someone who would give his blessing if he could?”
“By new companion, you mean yourself,” Denis guessed.
Martin shrugged. “There would certainly be benefits to it for both of us.”
“I didn’t get ‘benefits’ from my relationship with Noël,” Denis retorted. “I got a long, genuine love affair. If all you’re offering is a business arrangement, just say so, but leave Noël out of it.”
“I don’t know what I’m proposing,” Martin replied honestly. “We work well professionally. We’ve established that already. Maybe I’d like a chance to see if we could work well together personally as well. Would it be so awful to spend some time with me talking about something other than whoever turned Pascale?”
“What about your sabbatical?” Denis asked. “What about your plans to return home?”
“Plans can change,” Martin said with a shrug. “With the right incentive. I’m not suggesting you bite me tonight. I’m not ready for that, and you clearl
y aren’t either. I just thought we could do things together. Dinner, a movie, dancing. Other things. Things couples do when they’re trying to figure out if they can make it.”
Denis nodded slowly. His body’s betrayal last night had proven he found Martin attractive enough to consider a personal relationship. As with his vampire instincts, which urged him to pull the man into a dark corner and leave a mark on him no one would misunderstand, Denis would not allow his base desires to rule him, but he could have dinner with an attractive man without jumping him afterward. He could see a movie or even go dancing without it having to turn into something more. He would stay in control.
Chapter 18
Three days later, Adèle sat outside Pascale’s house, waiting for the sun to drop far enough for the vampire to be able to open the door. She could have cast a displacement spell, but that seemed presumptuous given the relative formality of their partnership at the moment. She would not do to Pascale what Jude had done to her, showing up unannounced and unwelcome, demanding what he needed with no regard to her feelings on the matter. Not that she expected Pascale to refuse to feed if Adèle offered, but she would at least respect Pascale’s home and not pop in without permission.
Seeing the sun fall beyond the tree line, Adèle climbed out of her car and knocked on Pascale’s door. A minute later, Pascale opened it, gesturing for Adèle to come in as she spoke into the phone.
“Sorry, the doorbell just rang. What time did you want to meet?”
Adèle frowned as Pascale continued talking. She stuffed her keys in her jacket pocket and took it off, tossing it over the back of the couch.
“Yes, I should be done with this by then. I’ll meet you around ten then.” Pascale paused again, listening to the person on the other end of the line. “I can’t wait to see you too. I’ll call if I get away early. See you soon.”
Adèle’s frown deepened as Pascale hung up the phone. “Sorry about that. You’re earlier than I expected.”
“I can come back if it’s a problem,” Adèle offered.
“Not at all,” Pascale replied. “I’m meeting a… friend tonight, so this suits me fine. I was going to take a shower before you got here so I’d be ready to go when we were finished, but this way I can feed quickly and then get ready without feeling rushed.”
“Someone from work?” Adèle asked, curious despite herself.
“No,” Pascale said, gesturing for Adèle to take a seat on the couch. “A woman from Dommartin. I met her when I went to the branch of Sang Froid there while I was at the seminar last week. We hit it off, and, well… just because I’m feeding from you now doesn’t mean I shouldn’t have a life of my own.”
“Of course not,” Adèle replied automatically, everything inside her clenching at the thought of Pascale feeding from her only to leave soon thereafter for a date. Pascale was her partner, not this other woman’s.
The vehemence of the thought shocked her. She had insisted from the moment she learned of Jude’s demise that she did not want another partner. She had avoided telling anyone when she realized Pascale had the potential to be her partner. She had even refused to discuss a partnership with Pascale at first. Yet only a few days after letting Pascale feed for the first time, she was already feeling possessive. It had to stop.
“We should get this over with so you can meet your friend.” The words tasted bitter in her throat, but she forced them out nonetheless. She and Pascale had agreed on a certain plan of action, and she would not be the one to violate that.
Pascale reached for Adèle’s arm, the opposite one from the last time she had fed. Adèle let Pascale pull it to her lips, her tongue flicking over the skin in preparation. As had happened the first time Pascale fed, Adèle felt her body react to the teasing touch. She reminded herself Pascale was simply trying to keep from hurting her, but it made no difference in the way her skin tightened and her stomach clenched. She took a deep breath, forcing herself to relax. She had learned the hard way with Jude that fighting the sensation of the fangs sliding beneath her skin only made it hurt worse. Unlike with Jude, she did not need to fight Pascale. The vampire had a date with someone else. She would not be looking to Adèle for sex to go along with her feeding.
The thought sent bile rising up her throat. She looked at the blonde head bent over her arm, fangs in her wrist now as Pascale sucked carefully on her skin, drawing blood into her mouth. Adèle tried to imagine the woman Pascale would be meeting, but she had no idea what her partner’s preferences were where a lover was concerned. Would she even consider Adèle attractive as a lover instead of a partner?
With a shake of her head, Adèle forced her thoughts away from those dangerous waters. She did not want to be Pascale’s lover. She wanted a man in her life, not a woman who went into hysterics at the first sign of an emergency.
Not a woman who cared for you when you were sick? her conscience prodded.
Tensing more, Adèle shifted restlessly on the couch. Immediately Pascale disengaged. “Am I hurting you?”
“No, I’m fine,” Adèle said.
“Are you sure? The taste of your blood changed suddenly, like something was wrong,” Pascale said. “I can’t pick apart all the flavors the way a more experienced vampire can, but I can tell when something changes.”
“I said I’m fine,” Adèle snapped. “Did you take enough, or do you need more?”
“You don’t have to be churlish about it,” Pascale snapped back. “I know it’s a pain having to come here, but you agreed to this too.”
“I didn’t say anything about it being a pain,” Adèle retorted. “Don’t read things into my words that aren’t there.”
“Then tell me what’s wrong,” Pascale demanded.
“Nothing you can do anything about,” Adèle said tightly. “Finish feeding so you can get ready for your date and I can get back to my life.”
“I didn’t say it was a date.”
“You didn’t say it wasn’t,” Adèle replied.
“Now who’s jumping to conclusions?”
“I heard the way you were talking to your ‘friend’ on the phone,” Adèle said. “You don’t talk to friends that way. You were flirting. So you’ve got some trick on the side. There’s no reason to deny it. It’s not like we made any promises to each other outside feeding a few times a week.”
“Because you couldn’t deal with the idea of being with a woman,” Pascale reminded her. “So don’t go acting jealous now because I found someone else. It’s not my fault you’re too insecure to consider other paths than the one you’ve always followed.”
“Insecure?” Adèle roared. “Why, you little—”
“Little what?” Pascale demanded, her voice rising in turn. “Little bitch? Maybe I am, but if so, it’s because you’re being completely irrational. I think you should leave now before we both say something we’ll regret.”
“Did you take enough?”
“What do you care?” Pascale shouted. “You don’t want me for anything other than the magical boost you get from my feeding.”
“I don’t want anything to happen to you,” Adèle said helplessly. “Just because I like men, that doesn’t mean I want you to get hurt.”
“I can take care of myself,” Pascale said. “The door is behind you. You can show yourself out. I have a date to get ready for.”
She stormed out of the room before Adèle could stop her.
“Merde alors,” Adèle muttered as an interior door slammed shut. She could go after Pascale, try to talk through what had just happened rationally, but she was not feeling terribly rational at the moment, and from the continued sound of slamming doors, Pascale was in no better shape. Perhaps it would be better to leave and calm down before trying to talk to her partner. She could take a couple of days and sort through her feelings to decide what had happened tonight. Once she understood that, they could renegotiate if necessary. Either way, they would avoid a repeat of tonight’s uncomfortable scene.
Pulling on her coat, she ret
urned to her car after casting a quick spell on the outer door to keep anyone from opening it from the outside, since Pascale had not come down to lock it behind her. Adèle might be pissed as hell at her partner at the moment, but she did not want anything to happen to her either.
Too worked up to go home and sleep, she debated her options. She could drop her car off at home and cast a displacement spell to go to Dijon or even to Paris. She could find a club where no one would care who she was and find a man to fuck. It would be mindless sex, but as worked up as she was, that was probably what she needed. Something to remind her what she liked about men and all the reasons why she could not possibly enjoy having a woman as a partner in any more than the magical sense of the word. Even if she had a few drinks, she would still be able to get home. The displacement spell came so naturally that she could manage it even when everything else was beyond her. She could get drunk, screw around, and be home no worse for the wear. If she stayed at home, she would end up imagining Pascale with her date, and that was simply unacceptable.