The Hunt is On (The Patroness)

by Natalie Herzer

  A knock sounded at the door. “Come in.”

  It was Pauline. Her eyes were full of emotions but pity wasn’t one of them. Neither did she have that weary face sometimes people used when they were walking on eggshells of their own making around you. No Pauline’s eyes were just this familiar violet, focused with a hint of anger burning in them. “You’ve been in here for quite a while. You okay?”

  “I will be.”

  In the days I had been busy lying in bed more persons had gone missing; including Kylian’s shifters we were now by seventeen. A number Commandant Moulin didn’t like at all, judging by the hard look in his eyes.

  Gabin and I had once again been summoned to Anouk’s office to get the Commandant up to date on the case and a feel for the collaboration between the different parties involved.

  Moulin ran a hand over his face. “God, this is the first…magic-related crime we ever had to deal with and it still feels…so unreal. But I have to ask, do we have enough evidence against…the Undead?”

  “No, Monsieur. What we have are presumptions. Circumstantial at best.”

  “I want this to be solved. Yesterday.” He shot a sharp look around the room, “Keep this under tight wraps, people. The last thing we need is the press to get wind of it. Luckily for us they are busy with all the rest going on. For now. Hope to God that doesn’t change. We don’t need the panic this news would spread.”

  “Yes, Monsieur.”

  With a nod and a last look around he said, “Whatever you need, you have it.”

  “Thank you, Monsieur.”

  The moment he was out the door, Anouk kicked the poor, innocent trash can beside her desk. “Please, tell me we can nail Lilith or at least that we have something else to go on.”

  When no one answered, she nodded her head. “Okay, then we’ll go back to good, old patrolling. We will coordinate with each other. And we’ll have another look at the files, talk with the relatives. Maybe something will pop up.”

  Perrin threw up his arms. “But there has to be some way to get her to talk. I mean, the vampires still have motive and didn’t exactly deny the accusations.”

  More experienced with the slowly grinding mills of justice, Moreau put a comforting hand on the shoulders of his younger partner. “Whatever is behind it, and we can’t say for sure it’s the vamps so we stir clear of them until we have enough evidence, but one way or another we will find out.”

  “He isn’t wrong, though,” Rodriguez grunted sympathetically.

  I nodded at that, my mind already somewhere else. There was something brewing in my mind. An idea, a suspicion. I couldn’t pin it down yet.

  I was in the lab again. Pauline crying, bleeding. In the dark, a hooded figure, a pleading priest. Wounded, because of me. Dead, because of me. I whimpered in my sleep. Knowing full well I was dreaming but not able to stop it.

  The scene changed, flowing and forming into a cemetery. Black and eerie. Dreading what was coming next I fought it, not wanting to live through it again. With a smile that said he knew my thoughts Raymond stepped out of the shadows. I couldn’t move, couldn’t fight, couldn’t do anything as he pulled me to him. No, no, no.

  His hands roaming over my body, he bit me. It hurt. How could I hurt so much in a dream? But it wasn’t only my body that hurt but mostly my heart. The agony, the fear of going through this again. The regret. God, why hadn’t I stayed home that night?

  In my dream Raymond bit me again, slower as he moved down the length of my body. When his fangs grazed the spot above my hipbone and he was about to sink them into my flesh once again, he murmured, “Maiwenn.”

  Maiwenn.

  “Maiwenn!” Hands grabbed me by the shoulders, pulling me away from the darkness and pain. “Wake up!”

  I opened my eyes, trying to sit up and running hands over my body looking for the bites. I pushed out a sigh of relief as I realized that Raymond had only managed to add them in my dream. My hands trembling I looked up and it registered. Pauline. She was here, with me in my room, and sitting beside me on my bed. Warmth flooded me and chased away the dark.

  “Bad dream.”

  Pauline grimaced, “Yeah, I figured as much.”

  “Did I scream?”

  Pauline looked down at her hands, and then shook her head. “No. Seems it was the time for bad dreams. I’d just woken because of one of those, too, and was about to make some hot chocolate when I heard some noise.”

  “What did you dream about?” I already knew the answer to my question but I wanted to hear it anyway. I wanted and somehow needed to hear her voice, warm and clear, to make me feel safe, to make me realize I was indeed here with her and not…somewhere else.

  She shrugged. “The lab. And you?”

  “Same. And then…Raymond.”

  For a moment we were silent, both lost in our heads, and then I shook my head, trying a smile. “Well, look at us. We could open up a support group.”

  “I’d rather stick with hot chocolate. All the warmth I need, minus the awkward moments. Oh, and it’s sweet. So thanks, but no thanks.”

  “Good idea. Let’s make you some.”

  I wanted to stand up but Pauline stopped me. “Wait. Your dressing is all messed up.”

  Automatically my hand reached up to fumble with the bandage. “Want to see how it’s doing anyway.”

  “How does it feel?” Pauline asked as soon as I was done taking off the dressing around the wound on my neck and wiping away the remnants of the yellow wound healing balm I’d slapped onto it.

  “How does it look?”

  “Better.”

  Good. I had prepared a new balm before juicing it up with my own and Viviane’s blood as soon as another magic wave had hit us. Curious I stood to stare into the mirror of my closet. The bite still looked ugly but was finally closed and healed. Raymond hadn’t left two cute little puncture marks like they loved to show in the damn movies, no, he had torn my flesh in his greed, leaving a mess of a scar. I didn’t mind scars and carried quite a bunch of them, but this one was standing out, high on my neck, and rather hard to explain away in its ferocity.

  A quote from a book I read not long ago came to my mind. Make something beautiful out of something ugly. A smile spreading I turned to face Pauline, who was looking questioningly back at me.

  “What?”

  “I have an idea.”

  Since I refused to tell her what I was planning Pauline pouted. Yeah, well, that lasted only for about five minutes. A record for her, I’d bet. Hot mugs filled with soothing chocolate in our hands, we snuggled up on the couch together and whiled the rest of the night away, watching movies.

  But as soon as the sun was up we headed out and I told Pauline what I had in mind.

  “You want to get a tattoo?”

  I shrugged. “Yeah. Make something beautiful out of something ugly. People might still stare at my neck afterwards but not because of the scar. Besides, I have enough of them so why not make something nice out of at least one of them.”

  She had nodded in understanding and we had started our chase to hunt down a shop.

  Apparently luck was back on my side again. I had thought I would have to check out one tattoo shop after another but no, the first one we stepped into was run by a faery. Exactly what I wanted since it would make things easier for me.

  She was nothing like I would have imagined a woman running a tattoo shop. Dressed in the color of the rainbow, matching the intricate tattoo running down her arm, she was a vibrant energy floating around us. A wild, red-haired gypsy faery with small, blue wings and a friendly smile on her face. Really not the dark goth I had expected.

  “Hi, I’m Flo. How can I help you?”

  I quickly got down to business and explained what I wanted. Not long after, I pulled off my shirt and let her take over. Just as Pauline’s eyes did my gaze wandered around the shop, taking in the scrubbed place and different designs and paintings gracing its walls, reminding me more of an art gallery than anything else. Flo’s w
ork was beautiful, colorful flourishes or black-and-white truths. What she was working on right now on my neck would belong to the latter.

  When she was finished, I quickly inspected her handiwork as did Pauline.

  She smiled. “It suits you.”

  It felt good, and it looked good. It definitely had been the right thing to do. The scar underneath was still there and a reminder of what had happened. But the tattoo was a reminder of who and what I was, a reminder why I had been outside and not at home.

  Though I had quite enough of bandages covering up my neck I let Flo put one over the fresh tattoo. “Thanks Flo.” Later I would slap more of my new ointment on it.

  “No problem. You know, scar tissue is a little tricky. If there are any changes in the lines or color or whatever, you just come back to me, ‘kay?”

  “Sure.”

  There was still a long day ahead of me, and I continued with something that I probably should have done sooner: a summoning. There was a little demon I had to set straight.

  I was in my office, the door was still locked since I wanted to talk with my guest undisturbed. A white, chalk circle covered the floor and three black candles were placed along it, forming the points of a triangle within the circle. Every magical race reacted with a different color to magic. The undead with black, ghost with gray, shapeshifters with violet, humans with red, witches with yellow, and faeries with white. The color of the candle determined the race, and I was summoning a demon.

  I lightened the wicks with my breath and blue-green flames sprang to life. Then, leaning with my hips against my desk, my arms crossed over my chest, I whispered the spell in my head.

  A wind rose, at first breezing through the office, soon it thickened, more smoke than air, and concentrated on the circle in the room, twirling there like a small but strengthening tornado, until finally a dark figure appeared. The wind died and the fumes slowly settled and Romaric was revealed.

  Although I was prepared for this and had already seen him, it broke my heart all over again. The first time we had met, he’d been wearing flip-flops, jeans and a shirt that claimed he was a schizophrenic. He’d been just the typical teenager, well, except for the hat covering his black horns, of course. Now, there was a hard, dark man standing in front of me that seemed to have nothing to do with the lovestruck teenage boy that once send me a beautiful drawing full of hope and gratitude. First Mathieu, now Romaric, why couldn’t these boys just be teenagers? They should be able to do whatever they wanted and to love whomever they wanted. But no, one of them had to be careful about every emotion that could boil him up and the other couldn’t even love without risking the person’s life. Inside of me I sighed, on the outside I narrowed my eyes at Romaric.

  “What the hell is going on underground? And why would you take a part in it?”

  He looked around, but didn’t seem bothered at all that he suddenly found himself in my office. His voice was deep and strong. “There’s a revolution coming, and I want things to change. I want to kill Lilith, Raymond offers an opportunity. The timing couldn’t be more perfect.”

  “What about Josianne?” I already guessed it but I wanted to hear him say it anyway.

  His eyes went black, no white visible. The demon close and raging inside of him. “Lilith found out and killed her for disobeying the Queen’s law.” He shrugged, the pain in his eyes and tense stance clearly visible. “I should have known that Josi would be the one punished and not me. The law that forbids to touch the Chosen applies to the others, not me.”

  “Okay, so you hate Lilith for her theatrics and for her egomaniacal Chosen-deal.” And most of all you hate yourself, for not having kept your hands off Josi. “But what the heck makes you think that Raymond will be a better King?”

  “I don’t care if he will be, I just want Lilith dead.”

  “Do you even listen to yourself? Wake up! You want to kill Lilith for what she did, but you would be so blind as to help someone who might do the same or worse? Pull that dumb head of yours out of your ass and have a good look around, and tell me he didn’t put on quite a show the other night in the cemetery. Tell me, please, exactly how he is different from Lilith after he wanted to force me in becoming his little toy.” The last part I practically screamed at him.

  I took a calming breath and looked at Romaric, my eyes and my heart pleading for him to see the truth. “He is exactly like Lilith, and that’s why they in reality can’t stand each other. Please, Romaric, you have to think this through, for your sake and the rest of us.” I hated to pull this one on him, but it was necessary. “What would Josi want? What would she tell you?”

  “That’s low.”

  “I know, but she’s still the only one who might get through that thick skull of yours.”

  He was desperate, hurting in his loss. “I have to kill Lilith, I swore it.”

  “But you don’t have to help a rat like Raymond along the way. Please, think about it. You can stay here whenever you want. You’re welcome here. I want you to know that.” I stepped closer and touched his arm. “I’m sorry for what happened to Josi.” The girl had been strong. Frightened and tortured in an old laboratory, but as soon as she heard me saying Romaric’s name energy had sparked and the will to be with him had pulled her through.

  His eyes met mine, black and unrelenting. “I can’t stay here. My whole life I was too much of a coward to do something against Lilith’s law. Now, I have to live with the consequences, and won’t make the same mistake again. Raymond wants me as his advisor, so maybe he won’t be such a bad King.”

  Then he shook his head and huffed, his walls back up. “But why the hell do I get the lecture anyway, when it was you that made this revolution happen in the first place?”

  Before I could ask him what he was talking about he bent down towards the candles, snuffed a flame between his fingers, and vanished.

  What the hell?

  I threw up my hands, angry he simply left without so much as an explanation, and then just stood there alone in the middle of my office. Well, that certainly didn’t go as planned. I had hoped to make him see reason but he was already too far down the vengeance road. In my heart I understood and wished him all the luck he would need, but my mind knew that it wouldn’t be as simple as he made it out to be. Lilith was the Queen with a good reason. So far she was the strongest and the most manipulative of the demons and vampires, and I doubted that her supreme reign that lasted for centuries could be easily overthrown.

  She had declared war on me and the shapeshifters, but all the while a revolution was brewing in her midst. The war…that was Lilith, Kylian and me screwing up. I knew and had no problem admitting that much.

  But why and how the hell was the rebellion my fault? What was that boy talking about?

  TEN

  I was still wondering about what Romaric had said when I was busy getting ready for Pauline’s night. Her flower shop would open tomorrow, and so for today Viv and I had organized an opening party, inviting her suppliers, connections from all over the city and our usual suspects.

  He’d said I made the rebellion happen. I sighed still struggling to make sense out of Romaric’s cryptic words. I made a war happen, as far as I knew. A war not all of Lilith’s horde was probably willing to engage. Was that it? Would Raymond use the war to show where Lilith’s reckless actions and theatrics were leading? It sounded…probable. A battle against the shapeshifters would mean a lot of deaths on both sides. Maybe Raymond had waited for this opportunity to take a swipe at the Queen? Therefore, might he even be responsible for the missing that had lead us directly to Lilith?

  Somehow I couldn’t believe it. The first part, yes, but not the second. If Raymond was behind the missing persons, behind all of it, then Romaric wouldn’t have said that I was the one being responsible for their rebellion to work in the first place. It was something I had done. I had gone to the Queen. Why? Because of the lack of missing vampires, which Kylian had been the first to point out to me.

  Luc
kily he would be here soon and I would find the time to talk to him about this.

  I looked at my reflection in the mirror. The dress that Viviane’s friend had chosen for me wasn’t anything special. I liked its elegance in simplicity actually. It was a stormy gray that made my hair a shade lighter and my eyes greener. Three quarter sleeves covered my arms, a crossover neckline made for an interesting décolleté. It hugged my waist and showed the curve of my hips, ending above the knee. Maroon open toe pumps went with it, and I tamed my hair into a silky wave of big locks that fell over my right shoulder, leaving the left side of my neck and therefore my new tattoo bare for all eyes to see. With subtle make-up and plum-colored nails I very nearly didn’t recognize myself. I wondered about how this week was turning out for me as I looked at the silver and crimson maple leaf studs adorning my ears. Tattoo: one. Passing out: twice. Wearing earrings: third time now. Both definite records.

  I felt naked without my daggers, but at least I was allowed to carry Cutter since it was invisible in its sheath.

  When I left my room Viv opened the door to our apartment and came in. Together we headed towards Pauline’s room and knocked on her door. Of course, she knew we were up to something since we told her to dress up, and she probably had a couple of good guesses but nevertheless our lips stayed sealed.

  She opened the door, her dress the color of sunshine and honey, as was her smile, though the tiny question marks in her eyes remained. “What is going on? What are you up to?”

  “Just come with us. You will know soon enough,” Viviane told her.

  I lead the way downstairs and outside, where luckily enough the sun was out and blazing, warming the air to a rather sudden balmy afternoon. We went right and stood in front of Pauline’s flower shop, Une Conte de Fées. From behind my back I pulled out a small, green box with a yellow bow on top and gave it to Pauline.

  “For you.”

  I could see the questions swirling in her mind and had troubles hiding my grin. Finally she took a single gold-colored key out of the box.