Blue Moon Rising (The Patroness) Read online

  I saw him then, a dark silhouette on a chair and in front of him a stone table. As we drew nearer I could make out the chess pieces atop it. “Bonsoir, Michel.” He stood and I kissed him on the cheek.

  “Good evening to you, too.” He looked up at Kylian.

  “May I introduce Kylian Tremaine to you,” and then I turned to Kylian, “Michel Dubois, Chef de la Meute.”

  “Nice to meet you.” Kylian showed no surprise that the wolf in front of us looked to be a polite and harmless well-dressed gentleman in his late-forties and nothing like the fierce leader he was and the merciless killing machine he could be. He wasn’t the leader of the biggest pack in France without reason.

  “Kylian the Killer. Ah, it does have a nice ring to it, doesn’t it? Come, sit down.”

  We sat and I leaned forward bracing my elbows on my knees. Maybe I wasn’t used to shapeshifter pecking order and didn’t like it but I knew when I had to accept it. I held my head a little to the side in a way so I was looking up into Michel’s gray eyes without staring at him, without challenging him. Then I cut right to the chase. “A rogue is on the loose. Killed a girl. Is it one of yours?”

  Michel stayed calm since he knew me; other dominant leaders might have killed me for the tone alone and even more so for the reproach I implied. “No, I can assure you. We had a meeting just the other night. Everyone attended and everyone was well. Maybe it’s a loner, who snapped? Do you want my help?”

  “No, I’ll find him.”

  “Can you give us some addresses from hangouts, where yours but also trespassers and loners like to go?” Kylian asked.

  “Yes, of course. Anything you want. I’ll ask around and keep in touch with you.” Michel stood. “Keep me posted, and, please Maiwenn, for once ask for help before it’s too late.” He winked at me and vanished soundlessly into the night.

  After our meeting with Michel we walked back towards the 11th arrondissement. Walking side by side we took in the wide avenues lined with stone buildings featuring finely wrought French balconies, sometimes interrupted by a labyrinth of narrow streets. Dark shadows fought with patches of orange halos coming from the tall, round street lamps, and created a mysterious twilight.

  Midnight drew nearer but cars were still on the streets, revelers were on the prowl and stray sounds of music could be heard. The balmy night air was flavored with all kinds of scents, sweet and heavy. And the stars struggled against the bright lights of the city that just never died away over the reign of the night.

  Kylian yawned.

  “How long have you been awake now? Did you sleep on the plane?”

  “No, too many people on the plane. And before coming here I was on a mission for the pack, so I don’t know exactly.”

  I knew what he meant. If there were too many people around you, people you couldn’t trust, falling asleep would prove rather difficult. “There’s a nice hotel nearby, why don’t you go there and try to get some sleep. I need you at your best,” I added with a chuckle.

  “I’m always at my best,” he answered indignantly. Typical male pride, or arrogance?

  I grinned. He rubbed his face. “Okay, maybe it’s not that bad an idea.”

  I accompanied Kylian to the hotel in question, where we said goodbye.

  Alone again I started patrolling the streets of Paris and headed towards the cemetery Père Lachaise, using small alleys that were favorite stages for all sorts of maniacs, magical or not.

  In front of a café a group of three sixty-some men wearing berets played something fast and inviting. Two of them played booming wind instruments and accompanied the other’s mad accordion. All were lost in their music. It made me smile.

  The music was still floating on the wind, as if following me, when I turned left and into a barely lit alley. A dark figure hunched down over a strange heap lying on the ground, making terrible noises while tearing something apart. Flesh. As I drew near I slid Cutter out of its sheath on my back and pulled one of my Trident daggers. The scent of blood tainting the air grew heavier now.

  I couldn’t see how many victims were lying on the ground or whether they were still alive, nevertheless, I needed to distract the creature. There might still be a chance. “Hey, you pathetic coward. Wanna fight with someone who can defend herself, or are you too scared?”

  A massive gray wolf looked up; his shoulder would effortlessly reach my waist. The rogue. Finally. He bared his fangs, blood dripping from his muzzle. I wouldn’t go to him; I wanted him to come to me. If he was stupid and enraged enough, he would charge and probably jump and so he would expose his soft belly. That’s what I wanted. Fletching his teeth he came towards me, slowly, hackles rising. Okay, I would have to tickle him a bit. And be fast about it.

  I moved at the same pace, each careful step, not leaving my eyes off him. When he lunged at me to get a bite, I rammed a quick kick to his nose. He howled. But I wanted him pissed. I lashed out with my dagger, only slicing thick fur and barely his shoulder, and danced away, light on my feet. We went at each other again and this time I whipped round and he took a kick to his muzzle that had the whole force of my body behind it. Bone crunched, blood spurted. Ha, at least he would have trouble breathing. The wolf recovered quickly, tough, and attacked. I blocked him with my dagger, cutting him in the mouth, but I felt his claws reaching and cutting across my stomach. Ouch. At the same time I swung Cutter with my free hand, driving it into his side. The rogue howled in pain, giving me a chance to get free. Seriously pissed he charged and took a leap. Good boy. At the last moment I ducked, closing in, and rammed my sword into his belly. It stopped him mid-air, so I rolled away, but he managed to brace his fall. He wasn’t dead, far from it, but he was bleeding. And so after a last growl and a long look that promised bloody revenge, he fled.

  I ran towards the victims. A man and a woman. A couple? Maybe they had also enjoyed the warmth and music of the evening? Now, both were brutally savaged. I checked for a pulse and noticed that the man was still alive. The rogue had ripped open his stomach, going for the soft flesh. There was no chance of survival. I held him in my arms as he drew his last breath. Warm raindrops had started to fall, slowly washing away the blood.

  Clumsily I got to my feet and shook my head, a helpless prayer on my lips. I pulled out my obnoxious bottle of acid and emptied it. Then I took care of my own wounds, cleaning and bandaging them up. I never went out the door without a small stash of emergency equipment; acid, ointments, dressing material, all of which I kept in the bag around my hips.

  Moving on I tried to follow the trail of blood the rogue had left behind. He was heading north and I began to jog. But I didn’t get as far as I hoped. Too soon the droplets of blood ended and I stopped. His wounds had obviously healed and shut. Damn this fast regeneration. Although right now I would kinda like to possess it myself. My stomach burned.

  That’s it for tonight. I gave up and headed home, but of course not without killing the obligatory blood lusty vampire who was crazy enough to attack me just because I got a scratch or two.

  Once back home I took a shower, watching the flow of the water tinged with red. It burned, it always did. The shapeshifter’s magic interfering with my own. With both, the witch’s and my other half’s magic. Magical creatures rarely survived the change into a shapeshifter after they’ve been bitten. No one knew exactly why but some kind of magical overload was surmised to be the reason for it. In the bright light of the bathroom I inspected the cuts. They weren’t deep and would heal pretty quickly, probably without leaving any mark behind especially after I applied a balm that would help the cicatrization. I’ve seen worse really. I looked in the mirror and my fingers traced the three long and slightly raised scars that stretched from my right collar bone and across my left breast. It had happened on my second patrol when a rogue had wanted to literally rip my heart out. With the years there had come others, smaller and fewer ones – a proud proof of lessons learned.

  I put on my pajamas and went back into the living room. When I h
ad come in earlier it had been empty but now Pauline was sitting on the couch. She, too, in her pajamas and with two steaming mugs on the table in front of her. When she saw me, she patted the spot beside her. Gladly I sat down.

  “Here, I made us hot chocolate when I heard you in the shower.” She had leaned forward and handed me a mug before taking the other one for herself. “How was your day?”

  I grimaced. “Let’s talk about something else, okay?” I took a sip and enjoyed the hot, sweet liquid running down my throat. It was heaven. I could swear I felt the warmth spreading to my toes and I closed my eyes in silent bliss. How nice it was to have somebody to come home to. Especially if that someone made you hot chocolate in the middle of the night.

  “That bad, huh? Okay, then maybe I can try to cheer you up for a moment. Do you want to know what Kylian thought of when you came back out of the shower this evening?” She wiggled her eyebrows at me and my stomach clenched – gleeful anticipation or fear? I wasn’t sure which.

  “You read his mind?” I sipped some more and pointed at the chocolate. “By the way this is delicious.”

  “Thanks. And no, not on purpose anyway. It’s just when someone thinks very …how can I put it…loud? Then I can’t help myself but to catch it.”

  Her offer was tempting and looking at her from over the rim of my mug I bit my lip. “Okay. So what did he think about?”

  “You. And how delicious and lickable you looked all rosy from the shower.”

  My heart made a little jump. Whoa, so not good. I cleared my throat. “Really? No kidding? Well, he kinda looks that way himself.”

  “Oh, yeah. God, that man has the finest butt I’ve ever seen.” Pauline went on, “And his hair.”

  There I had to agree, “Ah, that’s right. His hair, not too long, not too short.”

  “It has this nice wave to it. Even better than McDreamy’s.”

  I pictured the doctor from the television series in question and nodded very seriously. “That’s for sure.”

  Then we looked at each other and we both started to giggle like two crazy, hormone-controlled teens. Well, we might not have been teens anymore but we weren’t dead either, so we sat there talking girl stuff.

  Sometime during that time I noticed how quickly we’d bonded, Pauline and I. We’ve known each other for a day and yet there was a connection between us. But then again, I guessed friendships, the best of them, were often made quickly. It was this click inside, almost like lover’s chemistry, and you knew you would get along. It was just like that. I also noticed how much I’d missed out on life. Talking and laughing like that. It was a sacred, feminine ritual and I hadn’t enjoyed in it for far too long. The last time – when I’ve actually been a teen.

  With my mission and the preparing training in my free time I’d had neither time for friends nor for boyfriends. Growing up made it just more difficult. How to have an adult relationship without being able to be oneself? How to expect loyalty if you can’t explain you stealing away at night out of your lover’s arms? How to explain the bruises?

  In short: how to explain the world I was living in to a human without being immediately admitted into a nuthouse?

  “Don’t pick a human. You’d have much more fun with someone like Kylian anyway,” Pauline chimed in.

  I just looked at her, blinking my eyes.

  Realization hit her. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean to...”

  I swallowed my surprise, and even started to laugh. “No, maybe I needed that. I’ll try to keep my ‘voice’ down the next time.”

  After wishing each other goodnight I climbed into my coveted bed, pushing away any disturbing thoughts, and drifted off immediately into a healing sleep. No wonder, as exhausted as I was.

  Chapter 5

  My clock announced that it was nearly a quarter to nine when I woke up the next morning. I took the time to turn over in my bed, stretched and yawned, since it was Monday and the office wouldn’t open until noon. Then I finally got up and walked over to the window. I pulled the curtains aside and let the first rays of sunshine into my room. With the summer heat outside I’d left it open overnight and could hear the city, already bright awake. But me, I had my lazy Monday. After I’d opened up the agency I had quickly noticed that my slowest day of the week was Monday – and so it had become my lazy day. I stretched again, feeling rather rested, and thought about an early training session. But then I noticed the voices on the other side of my door for the first time. I twisted my hair into a bun, holding it with a pin in place, and went into the kitchen.

  I expected to see Viviane and Pauline there, but not with Kylian. I wasn’t wearing much, a long-sleeved yellow shirt and green shorts, and felt somehow naked around him. For a second there, or two, I actually thought about running back into my room. But that would not only look dumb and childish – it was.

  “Good morning everybody. Is there any coffee?” I needed my dose of caffeine before dealing with any one of them.

  A row of ‘Good morning’s came back at me.

  Something soft barely touched my left leg and before it could really register in my head I saw Malo shot out of my room, taking a great leap, and jump Kylian.

  “Ow.” This time Kylian managed to get my cat off him in no time, and grabbed Malo by the soft fur of the neck, his eyes blue. “I’ve had enough. We’re going to settle this,” he announced. Before I knew what happened he nudged me aside and went into the nearest available room – my room. I heard the door close behind me. I turned around, looking at it dumbstruck.

  Then I heard wild noises, meowing and hissing and I was wide awake. With my fist slamming against the door I shouted, “Hey, what the hell are you doing to my cat? You better not touch him or I’ll kill you.”

  As an answer I got – nothing. Total silence. Shit, that bastard killed my cat.

  Suddenly the door swung open again and I was face to face with the cat killer. “You asshole, where’s my cat? What did you do to him?”

  I tried to get a look inside my room but Kylian filled out the doorframe very nicely – err, I meant, unfortunately.

  “We just had a talk,” he replied calmly as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

  “A talk?”

  “Yes,” and at that he went back into the kitchen, with Malo following his every step like it was the most natural thing in the world. Oh God, the Killer had brainwashed my cat somehow.

  I knew that morning had just seemed too good to be true. Pauline came to me then, handing me a cup of coffee. God bless her. “Thanks.” Kylian was about to say something, but I held up my hand to stop him. “Not yet, coffee first.”

  He growled low in his throat. I bet he wasn’t denied that way very often, but I didn’t care, no one would ruin this sacred moment of my day. I needed to breathe coffee, to taste coffee. When I was finished I looked up at him but, of course, he stayed quiet now. “Did you fill them in?” I wanted to know.

  He stood there with his arms crossed over his chest and didn’t say a word. Stubborn as a mule.

  I glanced at Viviane, who nodded, and then went over to sit on one of the high stools surrounding the kitchen counter. Her opinion meant a lot to me, so I inquired, “What do you think about all of this?”

  She refilled my mug and sighed. “Well, if it’s true and we have a traitor among us, then we have to keep in mind that it might be anybody. Even those nearest to us, those we trust. You should keep this a secret.”

  Obviously Kylian found his voice again. “Grandpa thinks the same. We should maintain a low profile. And he has no idea what kind of animal or shapeshifter I could have smelled back in the alley.” He turned to Viviane then. “Do you trust the Chef de la Meute?”

  “Like I said before, it might be anybody. You can’t allow yourselves to think otherwise.” Her gaze settled on me. It hurt. That she would be able to suspect Michel of doing something like this. But it was the bitter truth, nothing more and nothing less. I might not like it but I had to accept it. Time to drop another
bomb.

  “The rogue took out two more last night. A man and a woman, thirty something. Caught him red-handed. We fought and I was able to hurt him. Smashed his nose in and made his navel a couple of inches larger. After cleaning the scene, I followed the blood trail. He was heading north when I lost it. The wounds had probably healed.”

  Kylian straightened and stood very calm, his voice rather blank. “You went out on patrol after we split yesterday?”

  I frowned and shrugged, having no idea what this was about. “Yes, why?”

  He was too calm. I didn’t like it. “Why didn’t you tell me? You could have been hurt.”

  With his mood I was glad my shirt covered my wounds. Then it hit me, he was caring for me. “It’s no big deal,” I told him. “I’m doing this every night, you know. Besides, you needed to get some sleep.”

  He stepped closer, then stopped as if to rein himself in, but he snapped, “Bullshit. You won’t ever go out there alone. I’ll accompany you from now on.”

  “What? But-”

  “Maiwenn, stop provoking me,” he snarled.

  And it dawned on me, he didn’t care, or at least not about my well-being but his male pride. I jumped to my feet as angry as he was. “Hey, cut the crap. I’m the Patroness of Paris and not one of your helpless, stupid, little subordinates. I’ve been doing this job since I was fourteen years old and was trained for it even a long time before that. And I think I’ve been rather good at it. I know what I’m doing, dammit.” Who did he think he was, waltzing in from America and wanting to turn my life upside down. I was not some woman in distress, for God’s sake.

  We were facing each other. The tension between us palpable.

  “Up onto the roof, you two.” Viviane’s voice thundered through the silence.

  That was all it took. In pajamas and bare feet and all I ran to the wrought iron, spiral staircase and up to the terrace with Kylian hot on my heels. Looking over my shoulder I saw his light blue eyes glowing. His movements were swift and predatory – graceful. I felt more and more like the little rabbit chased by a big, bad wolf. And I knew he felt the same, and that it would trigger his killer instinct. It was thrilling, and a bubble of laughter wanted to rise.