An American Witch in Paris

by Michele Hauf

  He buttoned up his shirt so he wouldn’t stand out in such a tony place. At the hostess station, Ethan explained he was looking for a friend and wanted to take a look around. The receptionist with emerald eyes and too much red lipstick started to explain that wasn’t the policy and that the place was reservations-only. So Ethan touched her hand and traced his finger along her wrist right above the vein, making sure she felt his persuasion.

  She suddenly nodded and gestured him to walk inside. With a sigh, she then turned back to her black leather book of names and tables, instantly forgetting Ethan had been there.

  The main room, which hummed with low conversation, was vast and spacious and walled completely in windows, such as in a Victorian conservatory. Massive plants grew up along the walls and hung from the ceiling, and were positioned to give privacy to most tables. It smelled like summer, too. Ethan wouldn’t be surprised to see a parrot or even a snake gliding amongst the greenery, but he quickly reined in his wonder and scanned the room from his discreet position beside a tall, bushy ficus.

  The pull he felt in his chest was unmistakable. Tuesday’s magic had worked. The demon had to be in here.

  Methodically, he scanned over every table until he spied a head of dark hair sitting before the far window. A man was talking animatedly to a woman whom Ethan couldn’t quite see, for a frond of greenery obscured the view. Didn’t matter. He’d found Gazariel. Dressed in an elegant business suit that gleamed when he moved. Like hematite catching the sun, his wavy dark hair looked styled and ready for a magazine photo shoot. Indeed, he was beautiful, and Ethan could admit that.

  Now, how to get him out of the restaurant and in position for capture?

  He tugged out his phone and texted the containment team leader his location. Five minutes and they’d be outside near the hornbeam shrubbery that demarcated the edge of the property.

  Whoever the woman was that the demon spoke to could be a girlfriend or lover. The one he had given the book to? Or had he yet to give her the gift? What sort of gift was a book of angel names and sigils? The woman had to be paranormal. Ethan didn’t see the point in a human wanting something like that. Or knowing the value of such a gift.

  On the other hand, there were many humans who genuinely Believed, and those sorts could be the most dangerous to his species, to all species.

  A waiter neared Ethan and cast him a curious look so Ethan sent out some more persuasive vibes. He needed to remain unremarkable to those around him.

  On the other side of the room, the demon clasped the woman’s hand from across the table and she leaned forward, a spill of coal-black hair falling over her cheek and veiling her face. Dark lipstick emphasized her narrow mouth as she spoke. Yet when she stroked her hair back with a hand, curling it over an ear, Ethan saw clearly what she looked like.

  And he recognized her.

  “Holy—what the hell?”

  He knew the woman’s name. Anyx. She was not human, but rather vampire.

  And she was his ex-wife.

  Chapter 14

  Outside the restaurant, Ethan stalked over to the containment crew waiting for action and told the leader the grab had been called off.

  “Not today,” he said at the crew leader’s inquiry. “There’s been...a glitch. Sorry. Thanks for being prompt. But we can’t take the demon in hand just yet.”

  The crew left, and Ethan ran his fingers back through his hair, hoping he’d made the right call. Gripping and ungripping his fingers into fists, he paced before the shrubbery.

  Why was Anyx with Gazariel? And how did that change things? He could have taken Gazariel. But without knowing whether or not the demon had given her the book—or Gazariel may have given the book to someone entirely different—Ethan had decided not to move in. Because what if they grabbed the demon and the vampiress got away?

  He could take them both into custody. The vicious yet vain demon with a flair for taking down buildings by stealing a witch’s magic, and a vampiress whom Ethan had once shared his bed with for decades. Their marriage had lasted sixty years.

  Punching the air in frustration, Ethan strode off toward the street, then paused and turned back to the restaurant. This was not how the director of a black ops team that collected dangerous objects from across the world must react in the face of adversity. If he intended to continue with fieldwork he must get this right. Stand up to the challenge. As strange and perplexing as that new challenge had become.

  He would wait and track them both. He had to know what connection Gazariel and Anyx had and then he would decide how to deal with this.

  Of all the women in the world the demon could be having a relationship with, why did it have to be that particular vampiress?

  * * *

  Tuesday was listening to one of the jazz albums Ethan owned. Having never been interested in the musical style before, she warmed to it now. Swaying to the saxophone’s mournful cry, she wrapped her arms across her chest and closed her eyes. She’d dated a musician once. More than once. A handful of musicians over the centuries. But the one she remembered with a self-indulgent smile had been an ’80s hair-band drummer. Those guys could keep a steady rhythm going. For a long time.

  Smirking, she turned to find Ethan standing before her, smiling widely to have caught her in a personal moment.

  She stopped swaying. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

  “The music is on.”

  “You don’t mind? I’m starting to like this stuff.”

  He tossed his coat aside to the couch and approached, taking her hands in his as if to dance. And then he did start to dance with her, slowly, turning her and finding the beat.

  “Billie Holiday is one of my favorites,” he said. “I never missed a concert when she performed in Europe.”

  “Really? You were a fanboy?”

  “I suppose. I dated a musician or two.”

  She chuckled. “I was thinking the same. Two or three, or maybe a dozen. It was all good.”

  “That it was. We who have lived so long have time on our hands. Time that needs to be filled. So I adventure. Try new things. Keep an open mind about what I encounter. And fuck a musician every once in a while.”

  “Good life goals, if you ask me. Yeah, settling down in one place, or with one person, only stays interesting for so long. I move around a lot.” She tilted her head onto his shoulder because it felt a natural thing to do. He smelled like the cool outdoors. “Just returned to Boston a few months ago after some world traveling.”

  “You have a permanent residence there?”

  “I’ve owned the place for about forty years. I was thinking I’d open up a New Age shop and sell candles and crystals. Maybe. It sounds...kitchen witch. Yet it gives me something to do, you know? I’ve lived in the city off and on over the centuries. I always gravitate back to home.”

  “Never had a hankering to settle in Paris?”

  She shrugged and hugged up against him and their footsteps slowed as they swayed. “Too cosmopolitan for me. I like slow-paced and homey. I live in a little suburb at the edge of the city that hugs a forest. We witches do need nature to survive.”

  He bowed his head and nuzzled his nose beside her ear. The tickle and his warm breath sent a shiver across her skin. A good shiver. But as she looked up at him, she remembered where he’d been and what for.

  “How did it go? You’re in a good mood, so...?”

  “I, uh...” Ethan broke their clutch and walked to the window, his back to her. The shades had risen completely to let in the clouded light. He raked his fingers through his hair. “I didn’t apprehend The Beautiful One today. There was an issue.”

  “But you found him?” Tuesday plucked the needle off the vinyl and set the arm aside, then turned off the record player. “Where did you find him?”

  “I tracked him to a four-star restaurant in the fifth. He was lunching with.
..a woman.”

  “A lover? I wonder if that’s the one he told me he was going to give the book to.”

  “Do you think he’s already given it to her?”

  “I don’t know. I got the impression he had or would soon. And if he knows we’re after it, then he probably wants it out of his hands. What happened? Why didn’t you capture him? Did they see you? Was your containment crew late again? Ethan?”

  “Tuesday, just—” He turned and took her hands.

  And suddenly, heart dropping to her gut, Tuesday felt as if he was going to lay some great confession on her and, whatever it was, she wouldn’t like it. “What’s going on? You could have had him.”

  “I made a judgment call. Didn’t think the time was right. I want to learn more about the demon’s connection to the woman. She’s, uh... Tuesday, I recognized the woman Gazariel was with. Her name is Anyx. She’s vampire. An old and powerful vampire.”

  “Yeah? What kept you from taking the demon in hand? You afraid of a vampiress? Didn’t want to hurt her feelings by capturing her lover?”

  He bracketed her face with his hands and said, “Anyx is my ex-wife.”

  Tuesday shoved out of his reach. His ex-wife? But that meant he’d once been married. Which—okay, after five hundred years the guy could have been married a time or two. Or even four or a dozen. Shouldn’t bother her. Some paranormals who lived a long time had a tendency to collect spouses. And yet...

  “Tuesday? I know that’s some freaky information to out with, but what’s this about?” He gestured toward her stiff posture and open jaw. “Are you...angry? I’ve lived a long life. There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”

  “I know that.” She put up a palm as if that could block all the feelings from streaming into her soul. Feelings of betrayal, rejection and downright jealousy. What was up with that? She had no right. And really, she’d decided this was just a fling with the guy. She didn’t care what he did, or who he did, or when he had done it. Maybe? “You took me by surprise.”

  “You’re upset.”

  “No, I’m not.”

  “You—”

  He grabbed her by the shoulders and shoved her against the wall. Pinning her with his hips and hands, he kissed her soundly. It wasn’t sweet or tender, nor lingering or heady. The man was kissing her in punishment. And as quickly as it started he ended it.

  “You don’t get to do this,” he said. “You have a past, too, witch. Don’t go all raging, jealous lover on me. It’s beneath you.”

  He shoved away from her and walked in a half circle, shoving his fingers through his hair. A side glance delivered her a stern reprimand.

  Tuesday exhaled. His words were not wrong. But.

  Just...but.

  “Will you let me explain?” he asked. “Or are you going to start calling me Richard again?”

  Well, it had been a dick move to slam that one on her.

  And yet. Fuck. What was up with her? The man had done nothing wrong. Except let the demon get away. Because of his ex-wife.

  “Yeah, you’d better explain things to me,” she finally said. “I’m having a hard time figuring why some chick could keep you from capturing the one demon you’ve been jonesing for these past few days. End of the world, remember? That’s kind of important.”

  “I know!” he shouted.

  Tuesday toned down her accusatory voice. “Did she see you? Recognize you? Why did you two break up? Ah, shit. I’m sorry, I don’t have a right to those answers.”

  “Yes, you do. And I’ll give you those answers. Sit down. I’ll get you something to drink.”

  She could use the whole bottle of brandy right now. Even if it did taste nasty to her. Instead, Ethan returned with a glass of orange juice. She pressed the cool glass against her cheek. When Ethan sat next to her on the sofa, she shifted and pulled up her legs to face him. And also to put some distance between them.

  With a nod, he accepted the defensive move. “Fine. The witch is mad at me. But you haven’t managed to bespell my dick limp yet, so... I can deal.”

  “I would never. I mean, I can, but I won’t. Promise?”

  “You’re not so sure about that one. But I’ll deal with that challenge if and when it comes my way. And no, Anyx didn’t see me, nor did Gazariel.”

  “Quit saying his name. And hers, for that matter.”

  Ethan sighed. “Are you really going to do this?”

  Ready to swing up and punch him, Tuesday stopped her fingers from curling into a fist by wrapping them around the glass of juice. She reasoned with her shivering inner self that had wanted to believe in the man. To believe that they had started something. She’d wanted love, but maybe this was the universe telling her to back off. Keep the curse. Her heart was safer that way.

  When had she begun to think in such a way? Really? She was asking to be let down.

  “I was married to Anyx in the sixteenth century,” Ethan said. “Right out of my parents’ home. The marriage was arranged. We were both vampire. My tribe wanted to form an alliance with another tribe. It was a mutual decision, though. I knew her and had my eye on her before the proposal was even suggested.”

  Tuesday sighed heavily. She didn’t want to hear all this romantic bullshit. Or did she? By the seven sacred witches, she’d listen. He did deserve that much from her.

  “We were married for sixty years before we decided to part ways. A couple can only remain together so long before they grow apart and develop different interests. Interests that may oppose one another. And the indifference that grows slowly yet deeply—it’s a strong divide. The institution of marriage is not something that lends well to monogamy. We’d both discovered that. We parted amicably.”

  “Then why the sudden horror at seeing her today? It’s been four hundred years. You seem to be over her. Why didn’t you march up and take Gazariel out of there?”

  “First, because it was in a public place. I required a means to lure him out, and with Anyx there...well. And also, I’m not sure what’s going on between Anyx and the demon. And I think learning about that connection may be important. One of the main reasons we parted ways was because she developed a dark obsession with death.”

  “Coming from a vampire? That doesn’t surprise me.”

  He flicked her a stabbing look. “Really? Is that what you think of me?”

  She shrugged. “You’re not like that.”

  “But all the rest of the vampires are walking purveyors of death? You sound worse than I do when I was initially cursing you a witch.”

  He was right. And she was giving this vampire bitch too much power by hating her for merely having been in Ethan’s life. As his wife. For sixty freakin’ years. But they’d been apart four and a half centuries. And that did mean something.

  “Sorry.” Tuesday clasped one of Ethan’s hands. “All vamps are not like that. I know you don’t kill to survive. It’s a stupid myth only made stronger by movies and fiction. I shouldn’t buy in to the hive mind’s vampiric beliefs. And I don’t. It’s just a shocker to hear all this. You know?” Bowing her head, she winced and looked up through her lashes. “I gotta know, though... Was she your only wife?”

  “Yes.” He kissed her forehead, and she lifted her face up to meet his small smile with one of her own. “I soured on the whole institution of marriage after we parted ways. It falls in the same category as sex with regard to what it should mean and what it really means. A piece of paper uniting two people until death parts them is nothing but trouble waiting to happen.”

  “So I’ve heard.” She set the empty glass on the floor beside the couch.

  “What about you? Any exes I should know about?”

  “I’ve never put on a ring.” She waggled her bare fingers. “Never will.”

  “A ring means so little. A man or woman can have a lover, for years, decades, and it can be a stronger rel
ationship than some marriage certificate could ever forge.”

  “We are in agreement on that. But love, well...”

  “I’m sorry. It must be hard for you if you’ve never known love.”

  “Maybe. I don’t know. How can one know to miss something they’ve never had?” She swallowed. That was a lie. “Well, I did have it once. At least, I thought I did. Asshole witch hunter.”

  And yet, her soul sighed and uttered a longing cry for such an experience. Love?

  Best not to think about it right now.

  “Okay, I learned something new about you today and I didn’t fall apart because of it,” she said. “Not yet, at least. I guess I would be stunned if you’d not been married. You’re quite the catch.”

  “Why, thank you. But it was a political thing, as I’ve said. The tribes eventually went back to warring against one another, even though Anyx and I remained man and wife. We did love each other, though. In our own ways.”

  “What tribe are you in?”

  “Right now? I am unaligned. Then? I was in tribe Nava. They are still together to this day, but they’ve spread across Europe from our humble Parisian beginnings.”

  “What tribe was your ex-wife with?”

  “Sarax,” he said. “They disbanded last century. They’d gotten into some really dark shit. I’m pretty sure she was still with them then.”

  “What did you mean about her having an obsession with death?”

  Ethan stood and paced toward the window, arms akimbo. He looked over his shoulder at her. “Anyx began collecting ephemera related to death spells and memento mori. She never used any of the spells—at least, not to my knowledge—but she liked to know what the spell or object could do. After she acquired a plague curse I called it quits. Yet her interest in such dangerous objects may have been what led me to the work I do today. In fact, I know it is.”

  “A plague curse? Sounds like the kind of chick who would be interested in a book that, when the code is deciphered, could end the world.”

  “Yes. No. I don’t know. I mean, Anyx loved life when I knew her. She was not a vampire who would ever kill indiscriminately. I can’t imagine her wanting to destroy the world.”