The Passion (11 page)

This was a job he was loath to turn over to the grooms, finding it pleasurable in itself, and Tessa had immediately thrown herself into the task with an enthusiasm to match his own.

" 'Monsieur' wil do nicely," he returned cheerful y, gliding the brush along the horse's flanks with long smooth strokes. "
Mon liege
even better."

"No, I mean… what is it that you cal yourselves, you creatures of two forms?"

That made him laugh, as she so often did. He kissed his fingers to the air and declared,

"Magnificent, that is what we cal ourselves!

Glorious, dazzling, splendid,
formidable
..."

But then, because her question was an earnest one and because he found her determination to learn as much about his species as possible endearing, he eventual y explained, "Every human language has a word for what we are, but each word is capable of describing us only in part. Our own language is not spoken with the tongue and is understood only in wolf form—by scent and posture and sounds from the throat, and what we cal ourselves is something no human can ever know. There is no word for it. So you see why we have no argument with whatever word you choose—'loup-garou,' werewolf—they have no meaning to us, but seem to serve your purpose."

She then wanted to know which of his

acquaintances were werewolf and which were not; and among those who were, which were coming to his bal , and how might she tel the difference? He threw up his hands in exasperation.

Over the next few days Tessa learned to distinguish some werewolves by the bril iance of their eyes, the fineness of their bone structure, and the length and luxuriousness of their hair, which Alexander confirmed grew so exceedingly fast as to make it almost impossible to keep barbered. She learned of the werewolf's great love of music and spectacle, and of the large numbers of them who made their fortunes in the arts. Occasional y Alexander would drop the name of a famous actor who was werewolf, or a diva of the opera or a violinist who caused great crowds to weep whenever he played. And although Tessa knew Alexander took pleasure in teasing her about such matters, on this she did not doubt him.

They loved to eat and were, even the least of them, grand gourmets, yet as a species they were exceptional y lean and energetic. Their sense of smel was so highly refined that special soaps were required by the laundresses to remove latent odors from clothing which humans would never detect but which werewolves found unbearably offensive. Their vision, though extraordinary by human standards, was their weakest point, and nearsightedness was often a problem—although, Tessa was given to understand, even the least accomplished werewolf could see better in the dark than could the average human in clear daylight.

Though Alexander—and, to a lesser extent, Poinceau, Crol iere and even Gault—teased her with suggestions, Tessa never gained a clear idea as to how many of their kind there were or where they might be found. And she discovered no easy or foolproof way to distinguish them in a crowd.

With each passing day Tessa put together bits and pieces of the truth about these strange creatures among whom she lived, but the complete picture continued to elude her. Stil , it was weeks before she could ask the one question that had been grinding at her mind from the beginning.

Alexander had taken her walking along the Seine. It was a clear sunny day and just cold enough for Tessa to enjoy promenading in her new fur-trimmed coat and matching hat. As always, she loved being seen with Alexander, the beautiful man of such exceptional presence that he caused heads to turn, both male and female, wherever he went. She flattered herself to think he liked being seen with her as wel , because he seemed to enjoy taking her about, whether in his open carriage or mounted on the sleek bay mare which contrasted so nicely with his favorite chestnut, or sometimes in his flashy, noisy motorcar. It had occurred to her that he liked taking her out for the same reason he liked driving the motorcar on the streets of Paris: because it created a stir.

They made a striking couple, the tal , long-haired werewolf and the smal brunette human, and they attracted their fair share of attention from others who had chosen this fine day to strol the promenade and to see and be seen. For a time she played her game of trying to identify which of those to whom Alexander bowed and raised his hat were werewolf and which were human, but he seemed determined to confound her.

"No,
chérie
, it is not the length of the hair or the structure of the cheekbones or whether one is tal er than one's human counterpart. It is purely a matter of genetic superiority, which you cannot change and surely wil never be able to detect. And don't put your brows together that way—it spoils the look of your face."

She scowled anyway, watching as he swept off his top hat and made a low bow to a pair of stylishly dressed ladies passing in an open carriage. "You are wrong, monsieur," she told him ungraciously. "I can very easily tel which of your acquaintances are werewolf and which are human by the depth of your bow. Those two, for example, are obviously of your own kind or you wouldn't be making such a spectacle of yourself."

"Ha." His eyes twinkled as he pul ed his gaze away from the departing ladies, who put their heads together and hid their smiles behind pearl-buttoned hands. "Wrong again. That was the Marchioness de Tourideau and her sister the duchess, both quite charming and, sadly, human. But they do give excel ent parties."

Tessa's frown only deepened with irritation. "Wel , then, perhaps you wil be good enough to tel me the secret. How may I know them?"

He grinned. "You have no need to know them,
chérie
. Be assured, they wil always know
you
."

Tessa's expression became thoughtful. "Have you ever been in love with a human?"

He laughed. "What astonishing notions are floating about in that pretty head of yours today! Next time, we wil buy you a bonnet with more ribbons; then you wil not have to think so hard!"

Tessa stopped and, dropping his arm, turned to face him. The wind rising from the river ruffled her skirts and stretched its chil fingers over the spot where her calfskin boots ended and the silk stockings began. "Were you and my father lovers?" she inquired.

He grimaced a little as he glanced down at her.

"
Chérie
, speak in English. Your accent is making my ears hurt."

She repeated the question in English. She knew he could sense her tension, could hear it in her voice, in the beat of her heart and even in the movement of her blood through her veins; it was a question that had vexed her too long in silence. But he made her wait another thoughtful, inscrutable minute before he answered, and then the answer was not at al what she might have wished.

He nodded across the way to a passing couple, lifting his hat to the lady. His gaze returned to Tessa's eyes, narrowed slightly against the reflected light of the late-afternoon sun but otherwise showing no change of expression whatsoever.

He commented mildly, "What a very peculiar question. I should think after living among us for these weeks you might have acquired some sophistication, but I'm beginning to fear that's a vain aspiration. I loved your father, yes. But that's not what you want to know, is it? You want to know whether we had sex together, and I don't think I wil answer you. You're far too curious as it is."

She retorted, "You're always saying curiosity is a virtue."

"In a werewolf. In a human it is merely annoying."

"You won't make me less curious by refusing to answer my questions."

He looked at her for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then he murmured, in English, "Just so."

His features gentled as he explained. "
Chérie
, we do not make love with humans, not in the way you mean. Although there are certain pleasures we can share, those pleasures are no more meaningful to us than a good meal or a warm bath. Since there can never be a mating between the species, intercourse between us would be absurd and, frankly, a little repugnant. You can surely understand that."

Tessa did not understand, not completely, and her curiosity, far from being satisfied, was only intensified. She was both relieved and strangely disappointed. She said, "Do you find me repugnant, then?"

He laughed. "No, I find you impossible—and irresistible! Now stop with your incessant questions and prove yourself useful. Describe to me how the early works of Franz Schubert reflect the influence of Haydn and Mozart, and, given such influence, why he is referred to as the father of German lieder."

He took her fingers and again tucked them securely beneath his arm, resuming their strol . Tessa felt the cold air redden her nose, the sun warm on her cheeks, the thril of his presence tingling in her skin.

And it was very difficult to be annoyed with him. "I'm tired of your sil y lessons. Why do I have to know these things?"

"So you can converse intel igently with me, of course."

"Why are you the one who decides what is intel igent conversation and what is not?"

He chuckled. "The answer to that should be obvious."

"I don't understand why you care so much about human poets and artists and musicians. They have nothing to do with you."

"I don't care about them. But I insist that you do." He stopped then, and turned to her, gazing into her eyes earnestly. "Once, long ago, our kind roamed the hil s and burrowed in caves, and our poor mean lives consisted of nothing but hunting and sleeping, fighting and dying. And then we discovered this." He tapped his forehead. "No claws can threaten it, no teeth can devour it, no humans can hunt it down with metal sticks or confine it with iron chains. Our intel ect. It is our strongest weapon. Without it, we would have lived forever in the forest. Because of it, we went on to build the pyramids and the great canals, to invent the telegraph and the internal combustion engine and to look with our telescopes to the skies. We have thought great thoughts and sung great songs and created works of art that wil endure long after your kind has disappeared from the face of the earth. We have created
civilization
, and have dragged you poor humans, more or less unwil ingly and in utter ignorance, along with us.

This is what makes the werewolf,
chérie
, not what is in the face or the bearing or the elegant clothes.

What makes a werewolf is on the inside, and that is something you can never see. And it is precisely because you don't understand this that we wil forever look down upon your kind with such great pity."

She regarded him with wide dark eyes. "You built the
pyramids
?"

He gave a sound that was half laughter, half grunt of exasperation, and he rol ed his eyes to the sky.

"
Mon Dieu
! My pearls are indeed cast before swine!"

She pouted prettily for a moment, put out of countenance by the comparison. Then she said, "If that's the case, and if I shal never be as smart as a werewolf, I don't understand why I should waste my time on German musicians."

For a moment longer he looked frustrated, and then he gave a resigned shake of his head and laughed softly. He tucked her hand once again into the crook of his arm. "There, you see? A case in point! Every time it begins to look as though there may be hope for your race, some impudent young girl declines to waste her time with
Austrian
composers. How shal you ever improve the lot of mankind if you do not learn to build upon what has gone before? Shal we do everything for you?"

"Wel , I'm tired of it al and I have no ambition to improve on anything at al . I don't want any more lessons."

"You have no choice."

"I could leave."

"Where would you go?"

"Somewhere I don't have to talk about Greek philosophers or dead composers."

He chucked her under the chin with a gloved finger, his eyes twinkling. "You won't leave,
chérie
. You're enchanted with me."

Enchanted
, she thought, and then she couldn't help smiling. Yes, that was what she was. Enchanted.

Those were good times, those bright cold days of innocence and discovery, as Tessa blossomed beneath his tutelage and he took pleasure in exploring truth, nature and his own personal history through her wide and hungry eyes. But al too soon those lazy hours of ease and splendor came to an end, and winter was upon them.

It began, as far as Tessa was concerned, with a heavy black-bordered envelope in the morning post, although when she looked back upon events she realized the disruption of the household had real y begun the evening before, when Alexander, missing dinner, had shut himself in his chambers and requested to be left undisturbed. Gault, Mme.

Crol iere, Poinceau—al of them, she now realized, had been conspicuously absent since at least that time, and the house seemed to have been engulfed in a funereal pal long before the black-bordered envelope arrived.

She understood the black bordering, of course. She did not understand the crest in the corner, engraved in gold, which was a circle with one crescent shaded, the whole pierced through with an arrow.

But instinctively she knew the news was bad, its source powerful. Neglecting the rest of the post, she took the envelope to Alexander's chambers. His prompt response to her knock suggested he had been waiting for her.