Perilous Partnership (19 page)

The head of his cock bumped the back of Jean‟s mouth. Raymond tried to pull back so he would not choke his lover, but the vampire‟s hands stilled his hips as his head lifted for a moment, only to slide back down, taking

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Raymond‟s length down his throat. Raymond tossed his head from side to side, his fingers scrabbling in the sheets, trying to ground himself against the upsurge of lust and love that took him totally off guard. His control should have lasted far longer than this, but the need for release snuck up on him, building beneath the surface until it was suddenly undeniable. “Close,” he warned.

Jean only sucked harder. Raymond gave up trying to resist and let his orgasm take him, welling out of him in long, slow waves. Jean‟s head ceased its bobbing, but the gentle sucking continued, drawing out Raymond‟s climax until he lay limp on the bed. He reached for Jean, only realizing when his hand encountered cloth that his lover was still dressed. “What can I do for you?” he asked sleepily.

Jean leaned down and kissed Raymond tenderly. “You can sleep in my arms and go with me to the meeting with Renaud on Saturday.”

Raymond wanted to tell Jean that he would do those things anyway, but his climax had sapped his energy, leaving him too tired to insist. Tomorrow he would find a way to return the favor.

“ARE you sure Jean wanted me to be involved with this?” Mireille asked as she and Orlando left monsieur Lombard‟s house on l‟île St. Louis. “Surely there are better choices.”

“Who?” Orlando asked seriously. “If Jean goes, the recruiting has a more coercive feel to it. Sebastien is busy helping Thierry with repairs at l‟Institut because of his affinity with earth. Fabienne is all but running l‟ANS right now so that Raymond can organize other issues with l‟Institut. The advantage of having you come is that you aren‟t actively involved in any of the current projects. When you talk about your partnership, you aren‟t influenced by anything else.”

“If you say so,” Mireille replied, her skepticism still clear on her face.

“Where should we start?”

“Jean suggested the goth clubs, since we know vampires go there to meet interested mortals,” Orlando said. “Unless you have a different suggestion. I don‟t have a fixed plan.”

“No, that‟s a good idea,” Mireille agreed. “I don‟t have to hunt for myself anymore, but I often found people there who were willing to let me feed if I was willing to let them cop a feel. It seemed like a fair exchange, and I‟m sure I‟m not the only one who has come to that conclusion.”

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“Lead the way then,” Orlando said. “I never frequented them before I met Alain, and I certainly have no reason to do so now, so I have no real idea of the protocol for approaching them.”

“It‟s not hard,” Mireille said with a laugh. “You go inside, sit where you can be seen, and smile so they can see your fangs. That‟s all the goth crowd needs to approach you. Of course, we aren‟t going to hunt, so we‟ll be the ones approaching the other vampires. Although, with you along, they might come to us.”

Orlando shrugged, not comfortable with the attention his Aveu de Sang inevitably drew whenever it came to people‟s attention. His bond with Alain was a private matter, but perhaps because so few vampires made that bond, it had become a matter of public interest, setting him apart from the rest of the Cour. If that worked to their advantage tonight, he would live with it and then retreat to the safety of l‟ANS, where the novelty of his bond had long since worn off.

“I‟d honestly rather approach them,” Orlando admitted. “I don‟t like being treated like I‟m special.”

Mireille did not reply that Orlando was special, that only he, of all the vampires in the alliance and all the vampires in the Cour parisienne, had taken the huge step of forming an Aveu de Sang. Only he had survived being captured and tortured by Serrier, and indeed any other vampire might not have survived, because Orlando‟s Aveu de Sang had given the alliance the means to find him.

They chatted about inconsequential things as they took the subway north to Montmartre and the clubs where they hoped to find vampires who might be interested in l‟Institut‟s educational seminars.

The bouncer at the club recognized Mireille immediately, ushering her to the front of the line. “You haven‟t been here in a long time, Mireille,” he chided. “We thought you‟d forgotten about us.”

“Not forgotten,” Mireille assured him with a flirtatious smile, “but my responsibilities have changed, and I do not feed widely the way I once did. This is my friend Orlando. I‟m hoping the club is busy tonight.”

“With two such perfect vampires as yourself on the prowl, we‟ll draw every interested mortal in Montmartre,” the bouncer said fawningly.

Mireille thanked him and led Orlando inside, rolling her eyes at the bouncer‟s blandishments as soon as they were out of sight. “The management can say and do whatever they want. What brings in the customers is the presence of vampires in the club. We‟re royalty while we‟re here.”

“You know I can‟t offer them anything.”

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“It isn‟t about whether we feed or not, because I have no interest in anyone‟s blood but Caroline‟s either. It‟s enough that we‟re here, that we might decide to pick one of them to feed from. Look around you. You‟ll see.”

Orlando did as Mireille said, looking around the dim interior of the smoky bar at the young men and women dressed all in black with their heavy eyeliner and multiple piercings. Mixed among them were vampires in ordinary street clothes with none of the affectations the mortals adopted, but it was clear from the way the customers in the bar interacted with the vampires that they were thrilled simply to be in the same room. “I suppose I can see the appeal,” he allowed, “at least for someone who is comfortable being in the spotlight.”

“Or someone broke enough they can‟t afford to go across the street to Sang Froid,” Mireille replied, thinking about the first months after she was turned, before monsieur Lombard took her into his employ. Being unable to go out during the day, she had promptly lost her job and had been unable to find another. She haunted the clubs at night, hoping someone would take pity on her and take her home with them. The clients at this sort of club considered it a real coup to have a vampire in their homes, even if only for one night. She had lived that way for what had seemed a very long six months before she had received a summons to the house on Quai d‟Anjou that she now called home. “Let‟s see if anyone is interested in talking.”

Orlando looked around the room, trying to read the vampires‟ potential interest from their body language. He doubted the ones who truly basked in the company of the young mortals would be interested in giving that up in favor of a long-term partnership, but perhaps he was underestimating them. Only time would tell.

“Over there,” Mireille said at Orlando‟s elbow. “Natalie Bauche and Philippe Moreno. They‟re standing together and not talking with anyone else.”

“You know them?” Orlando asked.

Mireille shrugged. “I know who they are. We aren‟t friends, but we‟re friendly at least.”

“That‟s as good a place to start as any,” Orlando decided.

They walked across the club to the two other vampires. They greeted Mireille with absent smiles and kisses on each cheek and Orlando with far more formality, making him uncomfortable again. He was definitely glad Mireille had agreed to accompany him.

“It‟s been awhile, Mireille,” Natalie commented when the introductions were finished and Orlando and Mireille had taken seats at the small table.

“What brings you back out tonight and in such august company?”

“I‟ve spent most of the past year with my partner,” Mireille explained.

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“Oh, that‟s right,” Philippe said. “You were one of the ones who found a partner in Bellaiche‟s alliance.”

“The alliance wasn‟t his,” Orlando interrupted. “It was the Cour‟s, for the benefit of all vampires. Or are you suggesting you haven‟t found some benefit in the anti-discrimination laws?”

Philippe looked like he had a sharp answer to that, but he bit it back.

“I did find a partner,” Mireille said, turning the attention away from Orlando and back to the point of their conversation. “We meshed very well and have both benefited immensely from our association.”

“How?” Natalie asked. “I thought the war was over.”

“It is,” Orlando said, “but the benefits of the partnerships had nothing to do with the alliance itself, or at least nothing directly. Our partners‟ blood didn‟t stop protecting us from sunlight simply because the war ended.”

“Nor did the connection with them fade because we stopped having to fight for our lives,” Mireille added. “I don‟t know whether you‟ve heard, but Raymond Payet, the president of l‟ANS, has set up a program for any wizards and vampires interested in exploring the benefits of a partnership. There‟s no guarantee you‟ll find someone, of course, since we have no idea what makes the matches happen, but if you do, you won‟t regret it.”

“What, exactly, does a partnership entail?” Phillipe asked suspiciously.

“Feeding from a wizard on a somewhat regular basis,” Orlando said, “or exclusively in my case, but that‟s a different issue entirely.”

“Is it?” Natalie asked. “Your Avoué is also your partner.”

“He is,” Orlando confirmed, “or I wouldn‟t be able to have both, but our decision to make an Aveu de Sang was a personal one, and as far as I‟m aware, we are the only wizard-vampire partners to have done so. As I was saying, I know a fair number of vampires from the alliance who choose to feed predominantly from their partners, but it isn‟t a requirement.”

“It‟s not a hardship either,” Mireille assured them. “There‟s something about magical blood, and especially about your partner‟s blood, that makes it appealing. If someone came up to me now, I wouldn‟t accept what they were offering even though I haven‟t fed in a couple of days, because why would I drink table wine when I have a Grand Cru waiting for me at home?”

“There can‟t possibly be that much difference!”

Orlando and Mireille exchanged knowing smirks. “Contact Jean at l‟ANS

headquarters, sign up for the first educational seminar starting in January, and find out for yourself if you don‟t believe us,” Orlando said.

“And if we don‟t?”

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“Then you‟ll continue hanging out here in the clubs, drinking substandard fare,” Mireille said with a shrug. “The choice is yours. We‟ve made—and benefited from—ours.”

She rose from the table, Orlando at her side. “Bonsoir. The first group will be quite small, so don‟t wait too long to make your decisions.”

Outside, Orlando grinned at Mireille. “That went far better than I expected.”

Mireille laughed. “And all the other vampires in the room will wonder what we talked about, and Natalie and Philippe will have to decide if they want to share the news and risk losing their place in the first class or keep it to themselves and possibly incur the ire of their friends later for not sharing now.”

Orlando shook his head. “There are days I‟m glad I never bothered with le Jeu des Cours. I‟d never master all the subtleties.”

“You‟re outside it now anyway,” Mireille said. “For as long as Alain lives, you have a status no one else in Paris can match.”

The dual reminder of the public nature of a private bond and of Alain‟s mortality struck Orlando deeply. “Where to next?” he asked, changing the subject. “Jean said they were aiming for between five and ten vampires and wizards, depending on interest, for the first seminar. If those two decide to keep the news to themselves, we still have work to do.”

“Laetitia Bastian owns a café near here, or there‟s Malika Robin, who owns an Internet café. It‟s a little farther away.”

“Is there any reason we can‟t do both?” Orlando asked.

“No,” Mireille said, “although I‟d like to finish up quickly. Caroline has adjusted almost completely to losing her eyesight during the last battle, and she knew where I was going tonight, but if she wakes up alone in the middle of the night, she gets disoriented sometimes. I‟d rather be there if that happens.”

“Let‟s hurry then.”

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“THANK you for coming, Luc,” Jean said when Luc Cabalet, chef de la Cour of Amiens, arrived at Jean‟s apartment.

“So what‟s this all about?” Luc asked, taking the seat Jean offered with a respectful nod to Raymond, who joined them in the living room.

“You‟ve heard about l‟Institut Marcel Chavinier, obviously,” Jean said.

When Luc nodded, Jean continued, “The property we purchased is in le Morvan, as you know, an area uncontrolled by any Cour, but the closest Cour is Autun.”

“Renaud,” Luc said before Jean could go on.

Jean nodded. “And he‟s trying to stir up trouble in Burgundy, claiming I‟m infringing on his territory or that I‟m trying to do I don‟t know what. Céline Girardot from Dijon set up a meeting to hopefully resolve the issue before it results in problems for everyone.”

“And by everyone, you suggest it will be a problem for me as well,” Luc guessed.

“You have a partner. You stand to benefit from the research at l‟Institut as much as any of the rest of us,” Jean said. “Céline is… neutral, but not happy, particularly because I didn‟t insist Raymond leave the room while we discussed Cour business.”