Reluctant Partnerships (29 page)

Gasping for air, Martin woke suddenly, his entire body trembling as he tried to separate dream from reality. His hand rubbed at his throat, finding it unmarked. So it had been a dream, all except the lingering arousal. Martin had not seen Denis’s face in the dream, but he knew Denis had been his faceless lover. He recognized the thin, wiry form, the apparent youth belied by the sureness of the vampire’s touch. Denis had never touched Martin in any kind of intimate way, but Martin knew what it would be like, the lovemaking if not the feeding. He had talked to enough paired wizards to know they found it enjoyable, a slight pinch followed by the kind of connection most lovers only dreamed of knowing, even before they were joined in other ways than the vampire’s fangs.

So now Martin had to decide how to interpret his dream: as prophecy, as premonition, or maybe wishful thinking. He knew what a partnership with Denis would entail, at least in terms of the exchange of blood, but what he had experienced in his dreams was far more potent than he had expected, even having gone through a seminar. Even now, the lingering arousal from the dream had him fully hard, aching for release, for the touch of a hand or the pinch of fangs in his neck. He shivered at the thought. When had being with a vampire gone from something to study to something to desire?

He had no idea how to answer that question, but it hardly mattered. Far more important was the question of what he intended to do about this epiphany. He had come to France to study, to learn as much as he could, and to take that information home to start his own version of l’Institut Marcel Chavinier and see if the effects were limited to France or if they could be replicated anywhere in the world. From the perspective of seeing if partnerships could form outside of France, his inclusion in one suggested it was possible, but he had found his partner with a French vampire, not one from home. Furthermore, he had found his partner in a vampire who was tied to his current home by responsibilities it would be hard to neglect. Yes, if Denis left, someone would rise to take his place, but Denis had shown no interest in leaving, and it would be unfair of Martin to ask it of him.

That left Martin with the question of whether he would be willing to either relocate to France or expend the magical and physical energy required to make the trip back and forth to Canada several times a week. If the presenters at the seminar were correct, the boost in magical strength he would gain from a partnership would cover the magical energy. He was not sure how his body would hold up to the physical exertion of constantly changing time zones, but as he weighed different options, he realized one thing for certain.

He was not ready to simply walk away from the partnership without seeing what could come of it. He was not ready to commit to it fully, but he wanted the chance to see how things would work with Denis on a personal as well as a professional level. Everything he had seen so far had impressed him. Denis had ambition, dedication, and a profound sense of justice that appealed to Martin deeply. They worked together easily on a professional level, but a partnership would be more than that. It would require a personal level as well. Even if they managed to keep the relationship from taking over their lives, Martin’s dreams proved how intimate an act he already considered Denis feeding to be. Going into that relationship, that depth of intimacy without some reasonable assurance that they could make it work seemed the height of folly. That assurance could only come from spending time together outside of work, getting to know each other as people rather than as colleagues. Martin found he did not mind the idea of that at all.

Now he had to see if Denis felt the same way.

D
ESPITE
his confidence during the afternoon, Martin had trouble meeting Denis’s gaze when they met that evening for their trip to Paris. It had seemed so simple lying in bed, but actually proposing any step toward making his thoughts a reality tied his guts in knots. He found it easier to focus on the professional problem instead. “Raymond said he’d send you to Paris,” Martin said, “and he gave me the number for l’ANS. He said we could call there when we’re done and ask someone to send you back.”

“I thought he wasn’t associated with l’ANS anymore,” Denis replied.

“He’s no longer the president,” Martin explained, “but l’Institut is an arm of l’ANS, so Raymond is still under their auspices. My impression is that everyone there is so in awe of him that they’d do whatever he asked even if he had no association with them anymore. As it is, though, what we’re doing impacts l’ANS in the sense that we’re trying to protect law-abiding vampires by catching the one who’s endangering them.”

“It must get tiresome having everyone in awe of you all the time,” Denis mused aloud. “Is there anyone who says no to Raymond?”

“Jean does,” Martin said with a laugh, “any time Raymond tries to do anything dangerous or that would overextend himself. Beyond that, I’m not sure there is. Jean’s the same way, though. When was the last time anyone besides Raymond said no to him?”

“Renaud tried,” Denis said with an amused snort. “It cost him his Cour.”

“I thought you said that came from inside.”

“It did, but it happened because most of the vampires agreed with Jean’s perspective on the association between wizards and vampires, or at least wanted the chance to listen to Jean’s perspective,” Denis recounted. “Renaud refused to allow anyone from Autun to participate in the seminars and tried to stop them from establishing l’Institut here. He claimed Jean was horning in on his territory, as if Jean cared about the tiny little Cour in Autun.”

“As much as he’s here, I’m not sure he even cares all that much about the Cour in Paris,” Martin said.

Denis shook his head. “Don’t let him fool you. The only thing more important to Jean than his Cour is his Consort. The difference is that he is well established as chef de la Cour and is popular with his vampires. They see him, and rightly so, as the one who changed their situations for the better by pushing for the anti-discrimination laws. Even those who didn’t support the alliance actively have benefited from the laws. I would have a very hard time imagining anyone even thinking of replacing him right now. In a few hundred years when everyone has forgotten what it was like before, maybe, but not now.”

“I guess I never really thought about it that way,” Martin admitted. “So much of your experience, of everyone’s experiences here, really, are things I’ve only read about in the paper. L’émeutte des Sorciers didn’t happen to me, you know?”

“I know,” Denis agreed. “It didn’t really happen to me either, not all the way out here in Autun, but the new laws have affected every vampire. We no longer have to hide in fear of being evicted or persecuted for our natures. When Noël moved with me to Autun, he opened a small bookstore. He never got rich off it, but the money let him feel he wasn’t dependent on me. After he died, I hid the fact that I owned it for fear I would lose the lease because I was a vampire. I don’t have to hide anymore. I still employ a manager to run it for me since I can’t be there during the day, but my name is on the paperwork now instead of Noël’s.”

“I can see that being a very powerful change,” Martin agreed. A knock at the door to Martin’s office interrupted their conversation. “That would be Raymond. Shall we go to Paris?”

Denis nodded as Martin opened the door and invited Raymond inside. “All set?” Raymond asked.

Both men gave their assent and Raymond cast the spell, sending them both to the park on the quai des Célestins. At this hour of the night, the park was deserted, guaranteeing them safe arrival and relative privacy. “L’île St-Louis is right across the river,” Denis said with a wave of his hand. “Monsieur Lombard’s house is on the island.”

“When we have time, we should come back to Paris for an actual visit,” Martin said as they walked across the pont Marie and onto l’île St-Louis. As they neared the address Jean had given them, a silver-haired man appeared on the doorstep.

“Where did he come from?” Denis muttered.

“Magic,” Martin replied, feeling the traces of the other wizard’s displacement spell skitter along his skin. “I don’t know who he is, but that’s what he is.”

The man did not even knock, simply opening the door and walking inside. “And whoever he is, he’s obviously sure of his welcome.”

“Did I hear someone say that monsieur Lombard partnered temporarily with Général Chavinier during the war?” Denis asked.

Martin shook his head. “I wouldn’t know. Too many unfamiliar names all at once when I went through the seminar. I retained the facts related to the partnerships, but not who paired with whom.” Reaching the doorstep, they rapped on the heavy brass knocker. A few moments later, a slender redheaded woman opened the door.

“May I help you?”

“I’m Martin Delacroix and this is Denis Langlois, chef de la Cour of Autun,” Martin said by way of introduction. “Raymond Payet from l’Institut said he would call to let monsieur Lombard to know to expect us.”

“Yes, come in,” the woman said. “I will tell him you’re here. You can wait in the salon.” She ushered them into a formal parlor lit by gas lamps and a low fire in the fireplace.

“He could leave us here cooling our heels for hours,” Denis muttered.

“I could,” a deep voice said from the other entrance to the parlor, “but that would not be polite.”

Martin and Denis turned toward the sound as the source of the voice stepped into the light. Martin swallowed an instinctive gasp at his first sight of monsieur Lombard. The vampire was easily two meters tall, towering over Martin and Denis, his white hair pulled back into a tight queue at his neck, a full beard, neatly trimmed, covering the lower half of his face. At Martin’s side, Denis tensed, but monsieur Lombard waved them toward the couch. “Sit and stop staring at me like you’re afraid I’ll have you for lunch. I’ve already fed this evening.”

“Christophe, do stop terrorizing the children,” the man Martin and Denis had seen arriving said, appearing at the vampire’s side. “Marcel Chavinier, since I’m sure our host will forget to introduce me.”

“Quit meddling in affairs that aren’t your concern, Marcel,” monsieur Lombard muttered, but he made no move to escort the wizard from the room.

“Don’t pay any attention to him,” Marcel insisted. “He’s just grumpy tonight for some reason.”

“I am
not
grumpy,” monsieur Lombard fumed, but Marcel ignored him.

“So, Christophe said you needed his help,” Marcel went on. “What seems to be the problem?”

Martin could not stop himself from searching what he could see of the other wizard’s skin for bite marks, although he did not see how monsieur Lombard could have fed from the wizard in the short time between his arrival and theirs. He could find no visible marks. Glancing at Denis, he nodded for the vampire to explain.

Quickly, Denis brought the two men up to date on everything that had transpired with Pascale, Pierre, and the involuntary turnings.

“That’s quite the conundrum,” Marcel agreed.

“We were hoping monsieur Lombard might have some insight into how to track down our vampire,” Martin added when Denis had finished his tale. “We heard how you helped find Orlando during the war.”

“The problem is that while we might find the person he’s fed from most recently if we find another newly turned vampire, we aren’t sure that will work, since the person has been turned,” Denis said.

“I see the problem,” monsieur Lombard agreed. “I’ve never heard of anyone trying to track a vampire’s maker that way, even a newly turned one, because usually a vampire’s maker is right there with him or her until long after the new vampire has fed and that illusory magical bond is broken. Involuntary turnings are rare, as I’m sure you know.”

“What about a tracing spell instead of a bite?” Marcel asked. “If you had a newly turned vampire and no wizard had cast a spell on that person yet, then the last person to do magic on them would be their maker. Could you track the vampire that way?”

“Would that kind of magic be detectable by our methods?” Martin answered. “It wouldn’t be a spell.”

“No, but it’s definitely magic,” Marcel insisted. “And while vampires can’t cast spells the way a wizard can, they can do magic. When Orlando and Alain formed their Aveu de Sang, I could feel the moment they became magically bound, and when I explored the brand magically, I could sense the bond between them. I couldn’t affect it, but I could tell it was there.”

“There may be other options I haven’t yet thought of as well,” monsieur Lombard interjected. “My library is vast and my memory less than photographic.”

“It’s the curse of old men,” Marcel said with a grin.

“Speak for yourself,” monsieur Lombard snapped back. “I am in my prime.”

Marcel’s smile deepened. “I shall expect you to prove that assertion.”

To Martin’s surprise, monsieur Lombard chuckled. “It will be my very great pleasure. Gentlemen, if there is nothing else, it would appear I have a challenge to meet.”

“No, nothing else,” Denis said, rising immediately and pulling Martin with him. “Thank you for your help. You’ll let Jean know if you think of anything else that might help us?”

“Of course,” monsieur Lombard replied, already heading toward the door by which he had entered, herding Marcel ahead of him. “Mireille will show you out.”

“That was….”

“Not what I expected,” Denis agreed as they returned to the foyer where Mireille waited to walk them to the door.

She bid them a good evening and shut the door behind them, leaving them alone on the street outside. “It’s still early,” Martin said. “Do you want to stay in Paris for a while? I haven’t actually made it up here since I came to France.”

“I suppose we could find a café or something to sit and discuss what we learned,” Denis replied.

That had not been quite what Martin had intended, but he let it slide for now. He could bring up more personal topics after they had finished discussing their meeting with monsieur Lombard.

They wandered off l’île St-Louis and down the rue St-Paul toward the place des Vosges. They found a likely looking bistro, large enough to serve dinner but not so large that it was crowded, and took a table in the back. To Martin’s surprise, Denis ordered a meal as well.