The Hunt is On (The Patroness)

by Natalie Herzer

  I smiled at him. “Hi, good to see you. What’s going on over there?”

  He shrugged, “Dunno. I wasn’t with the pack just this moment.” He motioned towards the map of Paris, “Are you on a big case again?”

  “Unfortunately. Can you do me a favor? When you see Kylian, tell him I need to talk to him, okay?”

  “Sure. Will do.”

  “Thanks. Say hello to Mathieu for me.” With a last nod he vanished into thin air. I turned to Anouk. “He will get the message to Kylian. That’s all I can do for you right now.”

  Agent Perrin frowned, looking helpless and confused. Like that what-happened-look of a puppy that had just peed on a rug. “What the hell is going on? Who were you talking to?”

  Smiling at Anouk I got out of there, leaving it to her to explain the facts of magical life to him.

  Darkness had settled, and though the thick cover of clouds remained the rain had stopped. I was patrolling in the west of Paris, near the Eiffel Tower, whose filigree lattice glowed in a color that reminded me of antique gold.

  My phone rang and I picked it up. “Cadic.”

  “Hi, I got a letter from Lilith. Folded and sealed with red wax. Very medieval,” Anouk’s pleasant voice announced.

  “What does it say?”

  I heard the rustle of paper. Then Anouk snorted. “It doesn’t say anything. It’s blank.”

  “Hmm, really? How resourceful. I guess, it’s either her version of ‘no comment’ or ‘screw you’.”

  “Probably the latter.”

  There was something I wanted to know. “Hey, Anouk?”

  “Yeah?”

  My mind had gone over the facts again and again, and the result was weird but logical. “Are you a vampire?”

  It was rare, to say the least. It was nearly impossible for another magical creature to survive the turn into a shapeshifter or vampire, the exact reason was unsure but in the realm of theories and hypotheses some kind of magical overload was held responsible for it. But as always, it’s the exception that proved the rule.

  “Yup.” Very short, very neutral.

  “Okay.” It explained a lot. Her being able to contact Lilith without leaving any kind of mess. Her being pale after the magic had leaked due to hunger for blood since her body had burnt through her calories while changing shapes. “What came first?”

  “First chewed, then sucked dry.”

  “Huh.” Interesting. I had a lot of questions but it didn’t seem to be the moment for them.

  She sounded flummoxed. “That’s all? ‘Huh’?”

  “What else do you want me to say? I have too many questions in my head for more.”

  “But aren’t you...I don’t know.” She sighed, and there was a lot of sadness and anger in that sound. “It...bothers some people.”

  “The pack?”

  “Before Kylian, yes.”

  “That’s really why you wanted me to contact him, isn’t it? You wanted to keep under his radar.”

  “Yes. Officially I’ve got lone shifter status now and he might seem cool with it but I barely know him, so I don’t want to piss him of just yet.”

  I might feel angry and a little pang of...something whenever I thought about him, but there was one thing I knew for sure. Kylian was a good man. Even if annoying and dominant, and despite that big-ass ego of his. “Believe me if he said so then he is cool with it.”

  Suddenly I felt as if being watched. The tiny hairs on my skin stood on end and a light, foreboding tickle itched between my shoulder blades.

  “Anouk, I’ll call you back. I’ve gotta go.” I snapped the cell shut and pulled Cutter out, his familiar weight firmly in my right hand. Turning around, I searched the long street for any signs of another presence. Nothing.

  The streetlights flooded me in a halo of soft, warm and orange light so I couldn’t make out what lay hidden beneath the thick shadows to the sides. Plus little clouds of fog were rising, floating a few inches above the ground. Normal for this time of year.

  Suddenly, for a short moment I got a glimpse of a transparent silhouette of an elderly man running past me, nearly through me. A ghost. Screaming, frightened, his arms pumping at his sides as he ran as if the devil himself was chasing him. Then the ghost was gone.

  What the hell? It wasn’t like I’d never seen a ghost before, no. I was friends with one after all and had talked to him less than hour ago. But it was just very rare, to say the least, that they were the ones running away screaming.

  Frowning, I watched the fog. Never letting go of Cutter I slowly started towards it and soon the cold haze floated all around me, enveloping me in a, from the streetlights orange-colored, and thick cloud. It was quiet. I could still see my hands and a few feet ahead of me, and sometimes I heard distant sounds; as if from far away or muted. People talking, people walking past me. The odd feeling persisted, though, but strangely enough the fog soon began to lessen, its misty tendrils thinning out until it completely disappeared, and I stood once again on an ordinary street, with no signs of trouble.

  I sighed and frowned, not quite sure what to make of this. Not quite sure whether this was even something worth to make something out of. Okay, let’s sum up, Maiwenn. I got some missing persons, a frightened ghost and a strange encounter with a seemingly impenetrable fog. But let’s face it though, I’d been drunk at that first time and my magical disaster barometer might have been gauged wrong. And this time it might have been just...fog. I had to admit that all those incidents weren’t exactly straight out of the ordinary, but...Damn! with all the weird pre-Turn symptoms going on it was rather hard to tell. Still, I was better paranoid than sorry.

  With determined resolution I moved on, continuing my patrol without any farther incidents. Neither magical nor non-magical. This had been going on for too long and nearly had me growling in frustration. I was practically itching for a good fight by now. In a city as big as Paris there was always something going on; even humans fighting in a bar about a woman or no apparent reason at all - but no, not tonight. I couldn’t help wondering about that famous, infamous calm before the storm.

  FOUR

  The next morning it was a lively German song from the eighties and muffled chatter coming from the kitchen that woke me up. I quickly got out of bed, followed by my faithful companion Malo. It was cold, so I added a comfortable, gray sweater to the long, warm and violet checked pyjama pants I was already wearing and went out of my room and into the kitchen. A very girly squeal of joy escaped my lips as soon as I saw Mathieu propped against the kitchen counter. I ran towards him and pulled him into a vise-like, bear hug.

  Then I stepped back and looked him over.

  Mathieu Ardent was my friend, my little brother, my family. We had met over three years ago when I saved him from a very thirsty vampire. He was tall, blond and had gray-green eyes that changed into a glowing amber when he was a wolf, and he had exchanged his familiar boyish looks against striking features and muscle that hadn’t been there a few months ago.

  That wasn’t only natures doing, that was also my fault. About three months ago Michel Dubois, former leader of the Parisian pack, a man I had thought I could trust, ordered for Mathieu to be attacked. Out of revenge, because I had killed his son who had gone rogue. It was the law to kill rogues, to keep humans and other magical creatures save, and as necessary as putting down a rabid dog, but Michel hadn’t cared. He had lost his wife a few months earlier, then his son. And that had been too much to take, and he‘d gone insane as well.

  Since Mathieu wasn’t all human, but something other, something we had no idea what exactly, Michel had hoped the resulting magical interferences would make Mathieu lose control after the turn into a wolf so that I’d be forced to take my little brother down. That hadn’t gone as planned. Thank God. Mathieu was strong, and during the last months he’d been living together with the rest of the Parisian pack to learn to control the new beast within him.

  I hadn’t seen Mathieu in three months. Only Philippe, his loyal
– they were inseparable – friend had come by now and then to keep us up to date on Mathieu’s progress.

  “How are you?” I asked, still worried about him.

  “Obviously good enough to be let lose again.”

  Ah, that was the Mathieu I knew and loved. “So you won’t wolf down the poor citizens of my city?”

  With mischief glinting in his eyes he replied, “I’ll try not to. Promise.”

  I pulled him into my arms once more. I couldn’t believe he was here, alive and sane. “Oh God, it’s so good to have you back. I missed you.”

  “I missed you, too,” he said and hugged me back. Then he stepped away. “Okay, enough of that. Do you have anything to eat?”

  Laughing we all sat down, around the counter that served as our table and grabbed croissants, fruit salad and drank strong coffee. It felt just like old times when our weird, little family used to meet once a week. Balm for my soul.

  “How are you doing? With your other halfs...ehm...thirds?” I asked Mathieu.

  “Better,” he replied between two gulps of coffee. “Voluntary changing’s still difficult sometimes, but I get better.”

  Yeah, getting used to this new part of him – to his wolf – and the attached and even dangerous consequences would take some time, for him and for us. But he said he felt better, and I could see he was right, so I felt better, too. What hurt though, was knowing that he was fighting for control each and every single day. Being on the brink between boy and man was challenging enough as it is. So going wild and furry once a month, while one was struggling with an already shaky, magical hormonal household, didn’t exactly make things easier. Hey, I was a girl and I knew what I was talking about.

  Mathieu went on, “Kylian and the others helped me a lot. Apparently food and -” he stopped himself and glanced warily around the oestrogen dominated table. Straightening he amended, “...um, well, and of course physical exercise calm the beast.”

  “Yeah right, and we all know what kind of physical exercise shapeshifters like to indulge in, sweetheart. No reason to be prudish,” Viviane reminded and made this new, manly wolf blush.

  “Speaking of, you haven’t told me about the other night. The old guy,” Pauline cut in, brows wiggling, so that now it was Viviane’s turn to blush.

  Mathieu looked from Pauline to Viviane, than at me. “Do I want to know what she’s talking about?”

  “No,” I replied.

  “Okay, then. How are you guys? What did I miss?”

  “We’re fine. I get along with the police now. You know that new unit investigating magic-related crimes? The boss, her name’s Anouk. She’s half vamp, half shapeshifter.”

  He raised his eyebrows at that. “Shit, going through one turn is hard enough, I know it, but both? Jesus. That must have hurt.”

  “Yeah. Other than that, nothing really.”

  “And business?”

  I shrugged. “Weird, as usual. Nothing too big yet, just nine missing persons, you know.”

  Mathieu grinned, and Viviane hushed, “Don’t tempt the Fates, Maiwenn.”

  The fates also known as the Matres were a group of three bored-out-of-their-mind, female deities that decided over life and death.

  I sighed, “But I like to.”

  “That’s why I’m warning you. One day Dea Matrona will have enough of this and cut your thread of life.”

  “As if that would change much,” I muttered under my breath, only for Viviane’s ears to hear, because we both knew I just would be reborn and become the Patroness of Paris, again. For the others I added, “So what? It’s their job.” Cocking my head to the side I considered, “Well, actually hobby or recreational activity would be more appropriate terms given their obvious liking for Russian roulette.”

  Since Mathieu didn’t stop grinning, I asked, “What?”

  “Good to see that some things haven’t changed.”

  I smiled back at him. Gods, it was good to have him here again. “Depends. Speaking of change, if you’re cleared we should start with your training. What do you say?”

  He practically beamed. “When do we start?”

  “Well, what about today? The office won’t open before noon, so that would give us some time.”

  “Great. Cool.”

  When we finished I got up and began to clear the table. Mathieu quickly got up, too. “Before the training I need you to come with me though.”

  I stopped short, sensing trouble ahead. “Why?”

  “Kylian wants to talk to you.”

  Anger flaming instantly inside me, I turned around. “So that’s why he let you out? To be his gofer?”

  Mathieu held up his hands. “Hey, don’t shoot the messenger.”

  Bracing my hands on the sink I took a deep breath. “Sorry. I didn’t mean that. I’m angry at Kylian.” And I hadn’t realized how much exactly until now.

  I had really wanted to use the time under the shower to calm down, to get my head straight but I only worked up more steaming anger. Once I was dressed and armed with two silver coated trident daggers and a couple of throwing stars and had my sword Cutter in his dark leather harness strapped across my back again, I followed Mathieu outside and as he chose a bus I realized we were heading for the Bois des Vincennes, a forest on the easterly outskirts of Paris. Intrigued I added another ‘why’ to the long list of questions I’d stored in my mind and labeled ‘Kylian’.

  We finally reached the zoo, which was still closed due to reconstruction, and hoofed it from there on. We started left into the forest that lay sheltered beneath a cloud of morning mist. It was quiet, except for a few early birds, and cold. Morning dew covered the ground and glistened like jewels on spider webs. Naked oaks reached out with their skeleton arms, and evergreen pine scented the air. Deeper and deeper we went, thicker and thicker the forest grew.

  Suddenly a clearing opened in front of us. The clearing where one night, the night of the Blue Moon, I’d watched Kylian change from naked man into a magnificent and big grayish blue tiger. It had been the first time for me to really see him in his animal form since he’d only fully changed during battles when my attention had been elsewhere.

  In the middle of the clearing stood a four-story house, that hadn’t been there before. A big, beautiful house built out of gray and rose colored granite stones, with dark blue shutters framing the windows.

  There were still some minor constructions going on, and people were crowding the place and I could make out the foundations for five more houses. Furry village, huh?

  Some of the shapeshifters obviously had things to do and were working on formerly mentioned last touches or fundaments and hurrying along while others were standing around, chatting. What a happy family. Some of them glared at me, some ignored me. I guess it wasn’t just the Vamps after all; being a law-abiding patroness and killing rogues obviously made me the bad guy here, too. Then I saw two of the Ravens, Riva and Gabin, and greeted them with a nod of my head – it was nice to have at least some allies around.

  Mathieu touched my arm. “I’ll go now, Kylian’s probably in the backyard. See you later, ‘kay?”

  “Yeah. I hope this won’t take too long. We could head home back together afterwards so I can kick your ass and teach you some lessons in the same time.” I nodded my head in greeting at Philippe who had caught sight of us.

  “Deal.” With a last grin at me Mathieu went over to join the ghost who was standing with a group of younger shapeshifters. They’d apparently made some new friends. That was good, not only for Mathieu but also for Philippe.

  I was abruptly pulled out of my thoughts and back to the problem at hand when I saw Kylian coming around the corner of the house.

  Damn. He looked as good as ever. Though muscular, with broad shoulders, and six-foot-three tall he still moved with a lethal, predatory elegance, and topped it of with silky, dark hair, and piercing hazel eyes that could quickly change to the crystalline blue of his beast. He was wounded however, his face and arms showed nasty cuts. Hi
s left arm was even bandaged – a rare thing given the shapeshifter’s fast and strong curative powers.

  I stomped down my concern and replaced it with anger, remembering how things had ended between the two of us. Not enough that he’d kissed me mindless one second and went off right the next to go back to the States without so much as a good bye – no, he had to top it off. The last time I’d seen him he’d been standing in my door acting as if nothing had happened, sniffing me and announcing he was the new Chef de la Meute and looking forward to working with me. Right. I hadn’t heard from him for over three months. So obviously the past was a thing of the past. Just as well. My defenses were back in place and reinforced. Bring it on.

  Kylian caught sight of me, and smiled, revealing his dimples. Damn.

  Playing dirty, were we?

  He came towards me, talking to someone, and I suddenly – and belatedly – noticed the man beside him. Kylian’s age, and about the same height, well-toned, dark blond hair cut short, friendly green eyes. A shapeshifter, they were all incredibly good-looking. A shout from one of the man working on the rooftop brought their heads around and up. After some gesturing and talking, the other man smiled, gave Kylian a slap on the back and took off, obviously taking care of whatever problem there was.

  As Kylian walked over, I tried to look as casual and totally-not-angry as possible and threw in a pinch of distance for good measure. And that made me realize I behaved like a hormone-driven, all-feeling teenager. Why me? Unable to stop the weird train I was on, I asked, “You rung?”

  With the smile spreading across his face he stopped in front of me. “Yes, thanks for coming. It’s been a while.”

  Damn, that voice of his, the deep sound rumbling right to my toes.

  “Yeah, it’s nice to see you again.” Grrr, we’d agreed on distance, Maiwenn, my inner voice scolded. Right, subject change. With a glance at his bandage I asked, “What happened to you?” That’s not being distant, that’s being interested, my inner voice pointed out dryly. Dammit. Shut up.