Reluctant Partnerships (27 page)

“And you’re okay with that?”

“I’m not in love with you, Adèle. I don’t know you that well, and I’m not your former partner with his Neolithic attitudes. I’m not going into this expecting it to be something it isn’t, and I’m not going to change my mind because I see relationships around me growing deeper. I’m not Jude, and this isn’t the same situation.”

“All right,” Adèle said, extending her arm.

“I thought you said you were expecting Denis shortly,” Pascale said, her fangs dropping and her mouth watering despite her words. She pushed down the instinct to seize.
She
was in control, not her instincts. She would show Adèle she was strong enough to uphold her end of their bargain.

“I am, but he can wait,” Adèle said. “This is more important.”

Pascale swallowed hard. “If you’re sure.”

Adèle locked the door with a quick spell and a flick of her wand. “That way we won’t be disturbed.”

“They’ll think we’re….”

“They’ll think it anyway the first time anyone sees bite marks on me,” Adèle said with a shrug. “I can’t do anything about their assumptions. Now are you going to feed or not? You’re giving me a complex.”

The locked door gave the moment a nearly unbearable sense of intimacy when Pascale knew it meant far less than it appeared. If things had been different… but they were not, and Pascale refused to cry over spilt milk. Instead, she took Adèle’s hand and lifted it to her lips, determined to be as matter-of-fact as possible about what they were about to do. That lasted until she caught the hint of perfume on Adèle’s skin. She stifled a groan and made herself prepare Adèle’s wrist, pushing aside her sudden desire to nuzzle Adèle’s neck or the neckline of her blouse to see if she had dabbed perfume there as well.

The scent of Shalimar grew stronger as Adèle’s skin heated, her pulse picking up at the touch of Pascale’s tongue. Pascale’s body reacted, her own skin flushing with hunger and desire, but she pushed those thoughts aside. No matter how much she might want to interpret Adèle’s physical reactions as an invitation to greater intimacy, Pascale would not make the same mistake Adèle’s former partner had made.

Letting her fangs drop all the way, Pascale punctured the skin beneath her lips, Adèle’s blood rushing to the surface as she sucked lightly. She could taste the difference immediately in comparison to the blood she had taken from non-wizards. Adèle’s blood had an effervescence the others had lacked, as if the magic inside her bubbled through her veins. Pascale swallowed slowly, letting the tingling feeling spread through her as more blood filled her mouth. She was tempted to rush, but she did not know when she would next get to feed from her partner, and she intended to savor every moment they had together.

Cognizant of her partner’s limits, Pascale forced herself not to gorge. If the presenters at the seminar were correct, she would not need to. A normal amount of blood from Adèle would sustain her as much as draining a non-wizard dry.

As always happened when she fed, the sense of intimacy grew with each mouthful of blood, her body reacting as strongly as if Adèle had caressed her. Pascale knew not to expect that, not after their earlier conversation, but nothing could stop her breasts from tightening with the need to be touched.

Adèle forced herself to stay immobile as Pascale fed. Nothing in the vampire’s demeanor reminded her in any way of Jude, only the pinch of fangs in her skin, but the twin impulses to pull away or to pull Pascale closer warred within Adèle nonetheless. She had hated the way Jude treated her, but the actual sensation of him—and now Pascale—feeding from her had not been unpleasant in itself. When she relaxed and let go of the instinctive tension, she felt again how sensual it could be, Pascale’s lips and tongue moving over her skin as she fed.

The awareness woke another memory. As conflicted as it still made her, Jude had known how to get her off, and that carried over now as well, her body reacting expectantly, tensing in anticipation of the rough touch, the confining hands. She focused on Pascale’s blonde head, reminding herself she was with a different vampire now and that she never had to endure Jude’s unwelcome touch again.

Pascale made no move to touch her beyond her hand and wrist, cradling the limb carefully, as if the contact between them was a gift. Perhaps it was for the newly turned vampire, Adèle realized. A chance at something akin to a normal life again, at least for the time Adèle’s magic worked on her. It highlighted once more how wrong everything about her relationship with Jude had been from the very beginning. He had never seen her blood as a gift, but rather as something that was his by right, to demand when he felt like it with no regard for her feelings or wishes. She wondered idly what it would feel like to have that reverent touch elsewhere.

The thought was so foreign she nearly pulled away in shock, only the reluctance to have to explain her sudden withdrawal keeping her from snatching her hand back. She could not seriously be considering this. She liked men, for Christ’s sake! A long, hard cock she could ride into oblivion. She sent a silent curse heavenward, as if her vitriol would have any impact on the magical influence that seemed to push her toward the woman feeding from her wrist.

A few moments later, Pascale withdrew her fangs, licking across the tiny incisions carefully. “Thank you,” she said. “I know it couldn’t have been easy for you to trust me that way.”

Trusting Pascale would be far too easy if she kept on like this. “You’re welcome,” Adèle said roughly. “It may take some time for me to get used to a new partnership, but you aren’t Jude, and if I had any doubts before now, your saying thank you put them to rest. He never thanked me for anything.”

“Somehow I think I’m glad I never met him,” Pascale said with a wry smile. “I would have had a thing or two to say to him about the way he treated you.”

“I don’t know that it would have made any difference,” Adèle said, releasing the spell on the door with a wave of her wand, “but I appreciate the sentiment. I should see if Denis has arrived yet.”

She reached the door before turning back. “Aren’t you coming?”

Pascale’s smile lit up the room, sending another little thrill through Adèle. Maybe this could work after all.

T
HEY
found Denis in the office Martin had claimed as his over the course of the past week, the two men sitting close on the couch, their heads together as they talked.

Adèle cleared her throat, not wanting to interrupt a private moment. Both heads turned, but neither pulled away, reassuring her on that count. “Bonsoir, Denis. I assume Martin has brought you up to date on what happened with Pierre?”

“Yes,” Denis said. “Terrible business. Martin also said he told you about my theory.”

Adèle nodded. “How strongly do you feel about it? It feels somewhat far-fetched to me, but I don’t know the vampire in question. Could he be delusional enough to think Pascale, Pierre, and any other vampires he might turn against their will would support him against you?”

“I’d love to say I was sure,” Denis said, “but I’m not. It’s totally outlandish, but it’s not outside the realm of possibility either. Logic doesn’t really apply where Renaud is concerned, or he wouldn’t have been so hidebound in his reaction to l’Institut. I never heard the full story of his turning, but I could see him deciding that since he felt grateful to his maker for being turned, other vampires would feel the same, and since he considered being a vampire far superior to being mortal, others would have the same feelings after they were turned, even if they didn’t have a choice.”

“I’m no longer ready to throw myself off a bridge or walk out into the sunlight,” Pascale said, the high of feeding from Adèle still coursing strongly through her body, “but if he expects me to be grateful to him for what he did, he needs to think again.”

“I didn’t say he was right,” Denis reminded them. “I said I could see him believing it. It’s all speculation. He’s from the right time period. He’s missing. He has a motive, albeit a twisted one. I can’t prove it, since Pascale didn’t see his hands and Pierre’s ravings can’t be trusted, not that he actually said anything to identify Renaud, only to tie in with my theory that whoever did this expects gratitude from the ones who were turned.”

“I think Renaud and I should have a little chat,” Adèle declared. “You have no idea where to find him?”

“None,” Denis said. “His old address is empty and up for rent. I checked there already. I asked around the Cour, and no one admits to having seen him since I ousted him six months ago. Both of the known attacks have been in Château-Chinon. Could he have found a place there? Maybe he isn’t even trying to take back my Cour. Maybe he’s trying to create one of his own.”

“I can check on new leases in the area,” Adèle said. “What’s his full name?”

“Guy Renaud. He might not be using his name, though.”

“He probably isn’t,” Adèle agreed, “but a lot of people will use an alias that’s close to their real name. It makes it easier for them to remember. I’ll let you know what I find out.”

“We’ll keep you abreast if we figure out a way to track him without a new victim,” Martin added. “And if you find a new victim, try a tracing spell as soon as you can. Short of catching him in the act, that will probably be our best chance of finding him.”

“Good. We’ll leave you to work then. Jean has my cell if you need to reach me,” Adèle said, guiding Pascale toward the door.

“That went better than I expected,” Denis said when they were alone again. “I expected her to blow me off.”

“I don’t know her that well,” Martin said, “but it seems to me any lead is better than no lead at all. If she finds Renaud and he has an alibi or his voice doesn’t match, she’s no worse off than she was before she talked to him. And if it turns out he is the one we’re looking for, she has an arrest instead of him being out there possibly hurting someone else.”

“She has a reputation,” Denis explained. “A real man-eater. That doesn’t mean she’s irrational or incapable of listening to a good idea just because it comes from a man, but she doesn’t let anyone off lightly either. Given how off the wall my idea is, I wasn’t sure how she’d react.”

Martin bristled at the thought of Adèle discounting Denis’s idea out of hand. Immediately, he wondered where the defensiveness had come from. If they had been partners, he might have understood it, but they had not taken that step, had not really even contemplated it, and yet here he was, taking umbrage at a slight that had not even occurred because it would have affected Denis. Pushing that thought aside for later reflection, he focused on Denis instead. “Is there a chance Renaud will get word of this and come looking for you?”

Denis shrugged. “Anything is possible. I beat him once. If he comes after me, I’ll beat him again.”

“If he’s alone,” Martin said, “but what if he’s managed to garner support somewhere?”

“Where?” Denis asked. “I’m not blowing you off, but none of my Cour has heard from him. If he had approached vampires in another Cour, that chef de la Cour would have heard of it and contacted me. We may not all be friends, but no chef de la Cour wants to face an unexpected challenge. It happens, of course, like when I challenged Renaud, but I don’t think any of my Cour would welcome him back, so it would be in their best interest as well to tell me if he approached them.”

“What about the vampires he’s turning, if it’s him, of course?” Martin asked.

“Pierre is a pile of ashes, and Pascale wants nothing to do with him,” Denis reminded him. “I’m not seeing a lot of support there.”

“And if he learned from his mistakes?” Martin insisted. “You said he didn’t want anything to do with l’Institut. If he realizes Pascale has ended up completely involved with the vampires here, even if he doesn’t realize what happened to Pierre yet, he might be a little more careful in how he deals with the next vampire he turns, actually taking the time to make sure that vampire is grateful to him. And if it doesn’t get reported as a non-consensual turning, we wouldn’t even know it had happened to have an idea of how many vampires he’s recruited.”

“If he wants the Cour of Autun back, it doesn’t really matter,” Denis said. “To take back the Cour, he would have to challenge me directly in front of the rest of the Cour. Even if he came with supporters, they would be newly turned. Our fight would be one on one, and if his supporters tried to intervene, they would be no match for Auguste or Camille or some of the ancient vampires in my Cour. In a fair fight, Renaud can’t win, and if he fights dirty, he’ll lose the Cour because he broke the rules.”

“You sound so certain,” Martin said. “What if he takes you out completely away from the Cour? What would happen in that vacuum of power?”

“If something were to happen to me,” Denis said, “if I were to get caught in the sunlight or, I don’t know, simply disappear, the Cour would devolve to whoever was strong enough to take and keep it, but it wouldn’t be Renaud. The other members of the Cour would never stand for it.”

“Does Renaud know that?”

“I haven’t the slightest idea what Renaud knows and what he doesn’t,” Denis said with a sharp laugh, running a hand through his hair, messing it up for the first time Martin had ever seen. Wanting to be the one to leave him disheveled that way took Martin completely by surprise. “If I could read his mind, this whole situation might have been avoided in the first place.”

“And then we never would have met.” The words were out before Martin could stop them. He felt his cheeks flame at the admission, but it was too late to call them back.

“And that would have been a shame,” Denis agreed, the smile he sent Martin enough to leave the wizard yearning for the right to touch.

Martin cleared his throat roughly. “So, ah, did you have any other ideas on how to track down Renaud? Anything in vampire lore that would help?”

“The only surefire way I know of for one vampire to track another is for the second vampire to drink the blood of the first vampire’s most recent prey,” Denis said, accepting the momentary change of subject. “That’s how they rescued Orlando during the war, which is also how I know about it.”