Blue Moon Rising (The Patroness)

by Natalie Herzer

  With a sigh and a mental shake of my head at myself I forced my gaze and thoughts away from it and threw the covers to the side and pulled on my sweats, before grabbing my sneakers. Dawn was hours away but I knew sleep wouldn’t come again and didn’t like the idea of wasting time – or brooding. So I would use it to keep me in shape, and to keep myself out of my head. To hell with the beauty sleep and the dark circles under my eyes.

  Warm rays of sunlight had finally made their way through the thick cover of dark clouds and patches of an icy blue sky peeped through here and there. The invitation had said to come to the police station of the 11th arrondissement which was just a stone’s throw away from my apartment. Nevertheless I enjoyed the sun on my face and the stony scent of evaporating rain in the air as the streets and sidewalks slowly dried.

  The police station was nothing fancy, neither was the alley where it was situated. I really think their favorite color was gray, and it started at the outside. Rain and exhaust fumes painted walls that were supposed to be the color of sand in an imitation of the sandstone that was so typical for Paris and steel-gray bars blocked the view, inside and out. Really cheery.

  Suddenly a passing shadow caught my attention. I looked up and saw a breathtaking and rather giant-assed silhouette with spread wings against the clear blue sky. A woman in the street noticed it too and ran away, her eyes wide in horror. I only sighed and waited for the shadow to land beside me.

  Gabin was a tall, sharp featured raven and had blue-black hair that, when rays of the sun or moonlight hit just right, was streaked with a subtle green. The magnificent wings spreading from his back were made out of feathers that held the same play of colors.

  I chided him, though I couldn’t hide a smile, “Was that drama really necessary? What about keeping a low profile for the fragile humans’ sake?”

  He rolled his eyes. Gray eyes that held shadows, a quiet sadness that never really went away even when he smiled. “That from the woman who has a sword strapped onto her back.”

  “At least they don’t know that, since they can’t see it.”

  “Kylian didn’t want me to be late so there was no other way.”

  Why did I always feel that sharp prick of pain at the mention of his name? Inwardly I sighed, something I had done often lately and really needed to stop. It came to close to pining, and now that was a word I really didn’t want my name to be associated with.

  Kylian Tremaine, the Council’s former assassin had been sent to help me out a few months back. We had killed a rogue and a divine serial killer, and he had ended up killing and then taking the place of the Chef de la Meute, the leader of the Parisian shapeshifter pack.

  Technically Gabin wasn’t a shapeshifter, but he could change into a nine feet tall battle version of a raven and therefore he was living with them. In contrast to shapeshifters, who could change into complete human shapes, the pair of giant and angelic wings always stayed on his back, never disappearing whichever form he took. Biologically we were related. His father, the god Mordred, was the dumb serial killer we had to go up against back in August and he was also my cousin. But only my mentor and the ravens knew that tidbit.

  “So you drew the short straw, or what?”

  “The boss just gave it to me, to save us both the time and trouble.”

  At some times it still staggered me how easy and normal it was to talk with him. For someone who had only stepped into existence less than a year ago he certainly knew how to adapt and fit just right in.

  I laughed drily. “Of course he did. Well, shall we go inside?”

  The police stations in Paris seemed to be either made out of a depressive gray cloud, or were a weird and failed attempt to reflect modernism and design. This one belonged somewhere in between, with touches of color that some might call art but that weren’t capable of distracting from the obvious: gray. In the end it was just another police station and the people working here either liked their job too much or not at all. But all of them were a lot heavier armed than usual, thanks to the police forces and army working together and planning on how to retain the pre-Turn panic.

  Television and radio were endlessly talking about The Turn, of the magic breaking through and of the things to come. Totally ordinary humans, little grandmas or nerds or whoever, might suddenly be able to set people on fire or grow wings; everything imagination could come up with and more would be possible. The Council and the governments and other human institution could talk about preparations all they wanted, but once the magic hit, people in this world would panic. Even if it were just a few, panic was like a nasty virus and if we were out of luck, it could spread in epidemical proportions.

  Gabin and I didn’t go unnoticed. There were careful stares and watchful glances out of the corner of the eye. The last time I visited I stayed the night, so walking up to the reception desk instead of coming in handcuffed through the back door felt rather refreshing. We made the woman behind the desk jump as she looked up at us. Though I was sure it was mostly Gabin’s fault. I looked normal, sleep-deprived maybe but normal none the less. He was the one with the big-ass wings.

  Unfazed he pulled the letter that held his invitation out and so did I, grateful we weren’t shot on the spot for the hand-sneaking-suspiciously-in-the-jacket gesture alone.

  Gabin tried the charming smile he must have discovered was a lethal weapon against everything female.

  It worked.

  “Gabin Corbeau, acting in place of Kylian Tremaine the Chef de la Meute.”

  Though unseen and ignored I added, “And Maiwenn Cadic, Patroness of Paris, acting for myself.”

  The woman didn’t even take her eyes off the yummy raven beside me to study the invitations. “Of course. Commandant Moulin awaits you upstairs. Second floor, third door on your right.”

  “Thanks.”

  We took the stairs and followed the lady’s directions.

  The room was nothing special, neither were the four desks occupying it, and managed to tell a long story about the importance and priority attached to the new unit inside the police ranking. Or lack thereof.

  Commandant Moulin was easy to make out; not because of the uniform but rather because of his presence. He looked like a strong and capable man who hadn’t let his desk job affect his shape. The face was friendly and yet subtly commanding. I had come to the same conclusion regarding his voice the one time we had talked on the phone.

  With two quick strides he stood in front of us. Extending his hand he said, “Miss Cadic, nice to finally meet you.”

  I shook the hand that was offered. “You too. Thank you.”

  Moulin’s attention shifted towards the man beside me. His eyes revealed no reaction or thought, neither about the man nor the creature in front of him. “I take it Kylian Tremaine was held up elsewhere?”

  Gabin nodded, “Yes, unfortunately.”

  So, despite the bubbling hormones the woman from the reception desk had managed to get the information about the change of plans, or rather invitees, to the Commandant before we had even entered the room. Not bad at all. Given my previous experiences with the police here, I was actually impressed.

  A woman stepped forward to stand beside Moulin and drew my attention. Olive-skinned, as if dusted with the gold of setting sunlight, black hair cut short in a pixie style and whiskey-colored eyes that didn’t bother to hide the lethal cat she was. She seemed geared up for whatever was to come, her stance tough; both of which revealed that to her being a cop came before being a shapeshifter. Still, I was more than mildly impressed that the police was for once smart enough to choose a magical creature as head of their new unit. Damn, what the hell had happened to the rather stupid and ignorant officers I was used to?

  “May I introduce Inspecteur Anouk Vigeur to you? She will be leading this unit.”

  Well, she seemed competent enough.

  She nodded in greeting and took her cue. “Which brings us to why we are here. I invited you both since I’ve heard the Pack and the Patroness wo
rked together before, and so I assumed you wouldn’t bite each other’s heads off.”

  I shrugged. “Actually, it depends on the head.”

  Not quite sure what to make of my words or his reaction, her gaze swept towards Gabin, who hurried to smooth the waters like the gentleman he was. “She’s fine with mine, though.”

  Vigeur pulled up an eyebrow and looked at us another moment, then said in a voice that showed she was used to ordering around and being obeyed, “Please, let’s sit down.”

  Behind her stood seven chairs arranged in a circle. Vigeur motioned towards those already taken by three men. “My colleagues, Agents Moreau, Rodriguez and Perrin.”

  As I sat down I studied the three men. Like Vigeur they were dressed in plain clothes. Perrin was the obvious puppy of the four. A willowy, young cop with too many, long limbs to orchestrate and who appeared eager on satisfying and impressing his superiors, and human. So was bald and brawny Rodriguez, though a lot more experienced and with a healthy dose of distrust in his brown eyes. Moreau however, dark-skinned with intelligent eyes, had something about him, what I couldn’t say, but I was sure he wasn’t human. The eyes were too old. I wondered whether the Commandant or the rest of his unit knew that.

  Instead of taking a chair like everybody else Inspecteur Vigeur leaned against her desk, gaining everyone’s attention. “The magical community has known about what is going on for some time now. Humans, however, have been quite brutally pulled out of the dark and into the light to face some sudden changes. They have to live with the fact that a magical shift, which they hardly understand to begin with, is coming their way and they have to accept that their monsters from movies and legends are real. Let’s be honest, it’s quite a load to deal with. This unit was put together not only to facilitate the transit that is necessary due to the recent revelations and to maintain order, but also to broaden our knowledge about the magical community. Knowledge is the key to understanding, which in turn is key to a peaceful coexistence.”

  The whole last part was essentially code for ‘everything will be reported’. Humans and especially their authorities wanted answers to their many questions and this new unit would give them the opportunity to get some of them. Of course, they wanted to keep an eye on the magical creatures, discover their strength and weaknesses, and see whether the magical community posed a threat to humans in general. What better way than a police force to do it. I had expected that much, but it didn’t mean I liked it. There was stuff humans were better off not knowing – lest we burst their fairy tale bubbles, again.

  It made me wonder about Inspecteur Vigeur, though. The police obviously knew that a magical creature had to lead the unit for them to really get some useful information, but also that the person’s loyalty had to lie with the police. A shapeshifter who’d put the police before her pack. Interesting. But then again, did she even have a pack? She didn’t seem to know Gabin which meant she didn’t belong to the Parisian pack. Hmmm.

  Vigeur continued and pulled my out of my thoughts, “I hope we will agree on some of these points and therefore will find some mutual footing. Eventually there might come a situation where a close collaboration will not only be necessary but vital.”

  I said, “Since there are only seven of us, I take it that not all of us agree on that.”

  “If you’re referring to Madame Lilith also known as the Queen of the Undead, then you’re right. She was offered two invitations, one for a private meeting and one to this. Both were declined.”

  I snorted. “Of course. Lilith sees herself being above such mundane things as law and order or even making allies.”

  “Now, I think the tone isn’t necessary, and you should know that we carry silver bullets,” Agent Rodriguez calmly cut in.

  Unruffled I studied him, already fearing he would live up to be the clichéd macho human filled with prejudice and dislike of the unknown. When Commandant Moulin had wanted me for the job and tried to sweeten it up for me, he had promised me all team members would be volunteers. Why the hell would Rodriguez want to be in this unit?

  “Thanks for letting me know but I was merely stating the truth. And by the way, I couldn’t care less what kind of metal the bullet is made of that rips through my vital parts. It would hurt like hell no matter what.”

  Vigeur explained, “I think what Miss Cadic wanted to say was that Madame Lilith doesn’t see us or the human population as important enough to participate in this meeting.”

  I frowned and had the unfortunate feeling that she ranged Kylian on the same level even though he had sent Gabin in his place.

  “Good to hear that for once the police was clever enough to hire a magical creature for this one,” Viviane, said as soon as I got home and brought her and Pauline up to date.

  “That’s exactly what I was thinking.”

  Viviane, the mysterious Lady of the Lake, my mother figure, friend and tutor was fifty-some and had short auburn hair showing streaks of white and a low, husky but warm voice. At the moment she was busy making a salad in my kitchen, while Pauline fried chicken breasts in a pan.

  I started to set the table for us, which was actually a counter surrounded by high stools that separated the kitchen and living room areas. “She’s clever too, and knows that Lilith pegged her as biased, given that she’s a shifter. Doesn’t seem to give a damn about it, though.”

  Viviane snorted, “Whatever creature they would have chosen, Lilith would always have found something to criticize and used it as an excuse for being uncooperative and a general pain in the ass.”

  “Yeah, I guess so. What do you think Pauline?”

  “For now it seems to me you’re the one that got the most out of it. Someone whose ready to cooperate with you and not eager on taking you in.”

  I thought about it and snorted. “You’re right. The police and I on something close to equal footing. Hell, if that isn’t worth celebrating.” With that thought in mind I grabbed a bottle of red wine from the rack and opened it. “But enough of my business, how’s yours doing?”

  When Pauline had moved in she had told me that she wanted to open up a flower shop. The idea was perfect since she would be able to control her fairy nature thanks to dusting the flowers. All that had stood in the way had been the renovation of the first floor.

  Viviane served the salad, which Pauline topped off with the chicken breasts. She grinned at me when we all sat down.

  “Well, we might have several events worth celebrating. I’m happy to announce that Une conte de Fée opens in a week.”

  “Woohoo!” I sprang from my stool to hug Pauline, all the while giggling and cheering. “That is great. Though I have to warn you, I think Viviane and I won’t be able to top that kind of birthday present.”

  Pauline smiled sweetly. “I’ve all I need right here. So...with all the workers gone and all that I guess you’ll be happy to go take care of your paperwork. You said you weren’t able to do them before with all the noise and stuff.”

  My smile crumbled at the same time as Viviane and Pauline burst out laughing. “Gee, thanks. How considerate of you to remind me.”

  My office was painted in pale amber and dominated by an old, wooden desk. The wall behind it was covered with stereotypical rows of filing cabinets in an attempt to make it look like a normal investigative agency and to reassure clients. A big window and a glassed door offered ample light and for interested pedestrians to give free rein to their curiosity.

  I put down my laptop on the desk, and settling down into my chair I enjoyed the heavenly coffee. The silence surrounding me was deafening now that all the workers and their sounds were gone. Who could have thought one could get used to hair-raising sound of saws, pounding and hammering and the scattered shouts of men?

  I thought about Pauline’s shop and her upcoming birthday. Some people might wonder why we continued to think of tomorrow, of the future, when there was a big, fat magical shift in front of us that the Mayans had marked as the end of the world. The thing was that th
is wasn’t the first time it happened, and so far we all had survived – human and magical races alike. So we would plan and celebrate as we well should.

  Once again my mind drifted back to Inspecteur Vigeur and Commandant Moulin who had offered her job to me. But for the life of me, I liked being my own boss too much. Sitting behind my desk, drinking my morning coffee I took in my office and smiled. I didn’t regret my decision. Saints Investigation was mine, my work, my independence, a way of being there for my city in the light of day. And besides, even with the police I’d be stuck with paperwork, so I could just as well stay here. With a sigh and a last sip from my coffee I finally set out to attack the giant stack of papers in front of me.

  Said stack had narrowed down about two thirds to reach its usual height when a knock sounded at the door. The man that entered looked carefully around before letting his gaze settle on me. He was in his mid-thirties and in good shape. And obviously he wasn’t a hundred percent sure whether he was at the right address.

  I stood and went around my desk to greet him, extending my hand. “Bonjour, my name is Maiwenn Cadic. Would you like to sit down?”

  After another sweep of the room he nodded and sat.

  “Can I offer you anything, a cup of coffee maybe?”

  He cleared his throat. “No, thank you.”

  I went back behind the desk and sat down too. “How can I help you, Monsieur -?

  “Gauthier.”

  I gave my best, most reassuring smile, like you would a child when it made his first steps towards you. “Monsieur Gauthier, what I can I do for you?”

  The dam broke. “They wouldn’t help me. But she wouldn’t run, you understand? She wouldn’t do that to me. But they said they won’t do it. Because of this thing, the Turn, coming up and so. That there are a lot of people disappearing, or hightailing it as they called it.” He sighed, trying to gather himself. “I’m sorry.”

  I reached out to touch his hand. “It’s alright. Take your time.” My mind was used to such reactions from clients and quickly translated. A woman he knew, probably his wife given the gold band on his ring finger had gone missing and the police wouldn’t help him. I spoke softly but determined on getting the information I needed to help him, “Your wife is missing?”