Blue Moon Rising (The Patroness) (5 page)

Right at noon
someone knocked at my office door. “Come in.” It was Pauline carrying a tray, laden with two plates.

“Hey, I thought you’d like something to eat. Viviane came by and she told me that you mostly forget to eat or that you’re too lazy to cook for yourself. I like to cook, though, and thought you might be hungry by now.”

“Thanks, and yes I’m hungry. What else did Viviane tell you?”

“She told me about the Patroness thing. So you carrying a sword makes much more sense now.”

“Does it bother you? My ‘job’ I mean. It would
mean I come home late at night
and sometimes it might get rough. I can’t even guarantee that you’ll be safe in the house, although I’ll do my best to make it as safe as possible here for both of us.”

“I think it’s great what you do and if you need my help, just let me know, okay?”

I felt surprisingly relieved and noticed that I had held my breath. I hadn’t expected that her understanding and acceptance regarding my mission, my way of life
,
would be so important to me. And I had to give Viviane credit, she was right, there were people in this world who knew about the residual magic and who were ready to deal with the consequences. I had stopped believing that. “I’ll do that. So what did you make us? It smells delicious.”

Pauline beamed at me.
“Mixed salad with chicken breasts. Considering the heat out there I thought it would be better to go for a light lunch.” She gave me a plate and silverware.

It tasted like heaven. Having a roommate might turn out to be not such a bad idea.

Pauline looked at me in a way I knew there was something going on inside her beautiful head. The most tim
id I’ve seen her so far
she started, “Viviane also told me that you want to reconstruct the first floor and I have a suggestion.”

“I’m listening.”

“I want to help you with the reconstructions,” she took a deep breath and continued a little faster, “and after that I want to rent a little surface to open up a flower shop. You would get money by renting it and I would have even more flowers to take care of, making life in the city manageable for me.”

“Okay.”
When she looked at me surprised
I added, “What else could I say? It’s logical and I like the idea.”

“Wow, well. Great. Now that that’s settled I’ll leave you to y
our work and head back upstairs.
I’m surfing in the internet for furniture.”

“Nice. By the way, which room did you choose?”

“I’ll take the one
near the staircase
so I can make a beeline for the terrace, in case of a dust emergency,” Pauline winked at me.

I grinned.
“Very good choice.”

She took the tray and moved towards the door.

“Oh, Pauline, I’m working on a big case and expect someone sent by the
Council. He’s expected at eight
but I need to go out patrolling tonight. I’ll try to make it on time but…”

She waved a hand.
“Don’t worry. I’ll stay home and see to it. See you later and be careful.” With that she was out the door.

Maybe I should ask Viviane if she might be able to help Pauline control her telepathic powers. My thoughts were interrupted as a woman
came into my office. She was
small but elegant, looked fifty-some and held her head high. She reminded me of Viviane, in a more regal ver
sion
though.

I stood and extended my hand
which she
grabbed almost like a lifeline.
“Bonjour, I’m Maiwenn Cadic. How can I help you?” I indicated the seat in front of my desk and waited for her to sit down.

“Bonjour, my name’s Jacqueline Benneteau. My granddaughter is missing and I want you to find her.”

“Why me
and not the police?”

“I’ve already been there
but they haven’t taken me seriously. They told me all this rubbish about young teenagers running away for a few days…fools, all of them. ...And I also know wh
at lurks in the dark, so do you
as I understand it.”

There was no reason then
to beat around the bush, so I came to the facts. “What’s her name? Do you happen to have a picture of her?”

“Yes, of course.” She took her wallet out of her purse and showed me a picture of a pretty young girl with brown hair and soft green eyes. Eyes that had stared back at me, blank and lifeless, the day before yesterday. The girl that’d been killed by the rogue. “Her name is Judith. She’s sixteen.”

I swallowed against the lump in my throa
t. I hated situations like this
but gathered up my guts and looked her in the eyes.

“I know that she’s dead. I haven’t been quite honest with you.” An elephant coming into my office wouldn’t have surprised me more. I stared at her, frowning and trying to figure out what was going on. “I want you to find those responsible for her death.”

“How did you know that she’s dead?”

“There’s still a little magic in our blood. I felt it…when Judith died. Our connection…broke.” As did her voice
now
. Tears filled her eyes, so I handed her a tissue.

After she collected herself
I cleared my throat. “I’ll take the case. And I’ll do everything I can to find the bastard.”

Madame Benneteau
had returned to her regal self. “Thank you very much. H
ere’s my card. I don’t want you to keep me posted or anything like that. When you call me, it’ll be to tell me that you’ve found him and brought him to justice. Did I make myself clear?”

“Perfectly, Madame.” She wanted me to kill him. I had given this woman my word, my promise as a witch to find the murderer and that’s what I was going to do. I took the picture that she’d left on the desk into my hand, studied one last time and then tucked it away under my left leather wristband.

I closed the office earlier today to follow up on some phone calls I’d received from folks struggling with magical problems. Which were quite a few and given the fact that we were still living i
n technically non-magical times.
I really couldn’t wait
to see
how business would be doing after The Turn.
It would probably be chaos.

A
t first I headed a little out of town to the zoo where a Púca, some sort of nasty goblin, had caused quite a stir during a festival by changing into a pony and giving the kids a really wild ride. An hour later I had to fight with a nymph who wouldn’t come out of a garden pool and then I had to stop a jealous Incubus from draining all the energy of his lover’s new lover.

That’s ho
w I ended up with a nice bruise
where the Púca had kicked me and nearly smashed my shoulder, soaked to the skin thanks to the nymph
,
and
to cap it all
I had some sticky, smelly, green stuff on my pants. Somewhere on the way a drunken Leprechaun had puked all over me.

Yep, I loved m
y job. I was nearly at my door
with thou
ghts of a hot shower in my mind
when a taxi pulled up. A man got out. Six-foot-three, broad shoulders and muscular. Neither hulk, nor slender. Everything about him cried…jet-lagged, bored predator.

You look unprofessional while drooling, my mind helpfully reminded me. Very aware of my outside appearances I damned the higher powers.

He wore faded jeans, a white shirt and sunglasses. His muscles flexed as he threw his duffle bag over his shoulder. Why me? I admit, for a second there I considered hiding away. But, then again, what the hell.

I went over to meet him. “Are you the one sent by the Council?”

He looked me over, taking his time. “And you must be…” he trailed o
f
f
and pulled out a piece of paper.
“Maiwenn Cadic?”

He did not just read my name off a crumpled-up slip of paper, did he? Your points were dropping real low there, buddy. I folded my arms over my chest and gave him a sharp smile as the only answer.

“I’m Kylian Tremaine.”

The Killer. The Council had sent me Kylian the Killer. A legendary and fierce shapeshifter – his form was unknown to m
e
but given the way he moved I would wager on feline – used as an assassin in pack matters when diplomacy failed, feared from most.

I’ve heard of him, everybody in the magical community had heard of him, but I wouldn’t give him that satisfaction. If he wanted to play, we’d play. “Kylian Tremaine? Hmm, are you by any chance related to Alec Tremaine?”

He understood and flashed white teeth, revealing little dimples on both sides of his mouth. Damn, I really liked those dimples.

“Yes, I’m his grandson. He told me you have a problem.”

“Well, if you call five dead shapeshifters and a rogue wreaking havoc in my city a problem, then yes, I have one.” With a wave of my hand I motioned for him to follow me as I moved to open the security door, and together we climbed up the stairs.

After a quick glance at my dirty and soaked clothes he remarked dryly, “Had an interesting afternoon, I assume?”

I looked down at myself. “You have no idea.”

“What’s the green stuff? It smells.”

Oh, thank you so much, I hadn’t noticed. “A gift from a drunken Leprechaun I came across earlier. I work, you know.”

He only arched an eyebrow. I left it at that and opened the door to the apartment and let him in. Pauline slouched on the couch, watching TV.

“P
auline, this is Kylian Tremaine.
Kylian this is Pauline, my brand-new room-” I was cut off. An orange blur flew by and behind me all hell broke loose. I could hea
r a vociferous meow and hissing
and when I turned around I saw Malo clawing at Kylian’s face. Kylian tried to peel the cat away but Malo was on him like white on rice. I was so proud. But then my conscience kicked in and I disconnected Malo from Kylian.

“What the hell is wrong with that cat? Is he suicidal? He should fear me, not attack.” Kylian had obviously
been
taken by surprise, too.

“He’s just very protective. And very courageous.” Malo snuggled against me and I stroked him beneath the chin. “Good boy.”

The Killer gave me a killing glance. Only then did I see the damage that had been done. His face was pretty much a mess. That conscience again. I turned on my heels to bring my
cat to my room and grabbed
a change of clothes at the same time. Heading for the bathroom I passed Kylian, grabbing his hand I dragged him with me, closing the door behind us.

He raised a questioning eyebrow and looked me over, a wicked grin curving the corners of his mouth. “But we hardly know each other.”

Rolling my eyes at him, I turned to wet a towel and began cleaning his wounds. “I just want to take a look at those scratches.” I opened the medicine cupboard and took out some of my self-made ointments, which I applied carefully.

“You don’t have to do this, you know. It’s already healing on its own.” Kylian watched me intently. His eyes a warm brown, with a mesmerizing hint of blue around the pupil that somehow tugged at me.

I tried to stay calm, rather watching my hands than his eyes and ignoring the warmt
h that radiated of him. “I know
but it will do no harm.”

“It smells nice. What is it?”

Hoping that ta
lking shop would help me focus
I explained gladly, “A magically enhanced ointment. I made it out of honey and chamomile since both are useful in wound healing.” I was finished and turned to wash my hands. “And now, if you’d excuse me, I’d like to take a shower.”

I watched him in the mirror as he nodded his thanks and left me alone.

After a close look at my jeans, I sighed and stuffed it into a bin bag. The sticky green puke turned out to be just too sticky, I would never get it out. The rest of my clothes went into the laundry basket, and then I stepped under the warm, cleansing spray of water.

Later, I pulled on green jeans – one could never know when the next leprechaun would show up – and a yellow and pale red shirt. I plaited my still wet hair, let the braid have its way so it fell over my shoulder, and decided to apply a little mascara.

As I went back into the living room Kylian was sitting beside Pauline on the couch. His face showed no signs of any wounds.

Pauline looked up. “I was telling Kylian how destiny brought us together.”

The man in question looked up at me, too. Surprise showed in his eyes for a short flickering moment and I had to stifle what would have been a rather smug smile. Yep, there was a woman under all the dirt.

“So, what did the Council tell you about our situation here in Paris?”

He turned to Pauline.
“She’s the business before pl
easure kinda girl, right?” Th
en he sighed and looked to me. “Not much actually, there wasn’t enough time. They just told me to hop on a plane to Paris and that’s about it.”