Blue Moon Rising (The Patroness) Page 9

  “Well, we’ll see about that.”

  My head snapped up and I looked at him, hoping I’d misheard. “We?”

  He had been reading in a book and turned around now. “Yes, we. I’ll accompany you.”

  There was that unexpected fluttery feeling in the pit of my stomach again. I stomped down on those butterflies and tried to ignore them as the feeling persisted. “But what about Chastel? Why don’t you follow him and find out what he’s up to?”

  He snarled, “’Cause I just don’t give a damn about Chastel.”

  With a feigned nonchalance that I didn’t feel I shrugged, opened a drawer from which I got out my camera and where I stored my laptop instead. Opening another drawer I rummaged through some shrink-wrapped papers till I finally found the one I was looking for.

  “Okay, let’s go then.” Equipped with my camera I grabbed my keys and taped the paper against the glass of my door. We went out and I closed the door behind us and then checked whether the paper was in place. Yep. It told my clients that I was out and that they could leave a message through the mail slot or by calling my answering machine. For emergency cases I also left my cell phone number. That last one was a little tricky though, since the definition of emergency seemed to differ widely.

  This case was a wild chase through Paris. We needed to head towards La Défense at the westernmost extremity of Paris; a district that stood out of Paris’s skyline, since it held many of the city’s tallest high-rises. It was also Europe's largest purpose-built business district, not one of my favorites by the way, and Madame’s place of work – the whole reason why we would cross the entire city from east to west, a really time-consuming task. While we were at it I could use the time to offer Kylian a quick tour through the city.

  We took the bus, first the line 76 after which I showed Kylian the Louvre with its almost rectangular structure and the famous glass pyramid in the central courtyard. The place was crowded. Kylian and I continued on and walked alongside the river Seine, busy with its river boats in all sizes. The sun was shining and burning down on us, no cloud standing out against the light blue sky, but at least here, at the river, the air was breathable. Then we crossed the Pont Royale, which, I pointed out to Kylian, was completed in 1689 and therefore the third oldest bridge in Paris. Afterwards we took another bus that brought us to our goal, La Defense.

  The place was full with suits, but they didn’t pay us any attention so we just waited for Madame to show up. Fifteen minutes later she came out of one of those awfully, high glass construction and waved down a taxi.

  “Don’t you want to follow her?” Kylian asked me.

  “Not yet. Besides, I know where she’s headed anyway. I’ve followed her before but never gotten a good shot.” Smiling I looked at my watch and after exactly ten minutes I started the countdown, “Three, two, one and here he comes.” We watched as the suspected adulterer entered the stage and he, too, waved down a taxi, got in and took off.

  I turned to Kylian. “Now, we’ll follow them. Check the plates, it’s the same taxi. She’d let the driver circle the block and then come back.”

  “They’re going through an awful lot of trouble for a lunch.”

  “Yep.”

  We took the bus and followed them back into the heart of the city, back to the typical sandstone houses that were so bright in the noon sun that they almost stung the eyes. During the earlier investigations I found out that the couple enjoyed dining at Les Deux Magots which was situated at the corner of the Place Saint-Germain des Près and easily distinguishable thanks to its green awnings.

  Once a meeting place of the literary and intellectual élite of the city, it was now a popular tourist destination. Not only intellectuals such as Simone de Beauvoir, but also young writers and artists such as Oscar Wilde and Pablo Picasso had been famous patrons providing the café’s historical reputation. I could easily imagine Ernest Hemingway writing for hours here, sometimes stopping to debate and to drink a good, strong whiskey with Jean Paul Sartre.

  Kylian and I took cover behind a kiosk next to the café. It was shortly past noon and people were crowding the place, their chatter and noises drifting to us on a light summer breeze.

  I followed our couple with my eyes. “Yes, jackpot!”

  “What?”

  Laughing, I explained, “They chose the terrace. They are getting more confident.” When Kylian arched one of his eyebrows, I added, “In the beginning of an affair like this they would choose a small place in a remote district, where they could be sure no one would recognize them. In a restaurant they would sit as much in the back as possible, of fear to be spotted. After a while, without being discovered they would lose their fear. Some couples even begin to act as if they wanted to get caught. Those for example,” I pointed towards them, “Look at them; they aren’t frightened and seem not to care if it all comes out. I really like to remind them of the contrary.”

  “You work on cases like that one very often?”

  “No, not anymore. Not if I can help it. But a week ago business had been slow so it had seemed like a good idea at the time.” I grimaced.

  He laughed. “Seems like you tempted fate. I bet this week has been all, except slow and quiet for you. Why do you avoid these cases?”

  “Bad experience.”

  “Someone cheated on you?” The surprise and anger in his voice made me smile and all warm inside.

  “No. Six months ago I took on a case very similar to this one. A man suspected his faery wife of sidestepping. He wanted me to find out the truth and that’s what I did. I met him to inform him of the results of my investigation, which weren’t good, when all of a sudden he jumped out of the chair, his face all red with fury and blamed me for the breakup of his marriage. He was out of my office faster than I could blink,” I told him, while I adjusted the camera and toyed with the zoom.

  “He didn’t pay you? But you were just doing your job, it wasn’t your fault.”

  “I know and the money didn’t matter. But what really pissed me off was the following. Turned out he was a police officer and he’d put me right on top of his shit list. He did everything to take over as much nights shifts as possible and every time we meet he likes to put me into a holding cell for whatever reasons, mostly for suspicion of gun possession. So now, once a month or so, I spend a night in prison.”

  Kylian was quiet, too quiet. I looked up from my camera and saw the beast in his icy blue eyes. He began to bulge, getting bigger and I suddenly realized he was about to change.

  “Hey, hey, calm down, Kylian! Look at me, look at me! I’m fine, you see? I’m here beside you and I’m fine. Calm down.”

  I obviously got through to him since he turned his head and caressed my cheek with his fingertips. “Sorry for that. I just didn’t like imagining you in a cell.”

  Touched, I couldn’t resist and took his head into my hands, placing a small and gentle kiss on his lips.

  My cell went off. I pulled away, clearing my throat and answered it, “Maiwenn Cadic, Saints Investigation. Bonjour!”

  A male voice said, “I’m in front of your office and saw the sign. I don’t know if that qualifies as an emergency but a friend of mine is missing and I need your help to find her.”

  “What’s your name?”

  “Romaric L’Enragé.”

  “Listen, I won’t be back in my office before half an hour.” Not only was it true, but it would also show me whether he was serious about this or not.

  “That’s fine with me, I can wait.”

  “Okay, see you later then.” I hung up and tugged my cell away. “Did you listen in?” I asked and, when Kylian nodded, continued, “Bon, so let’s wrap this up. What are our adulterers up to?”

  Kylian looked over his shoulders, watching the couple. “Nothing good it seems.”

  I lifted my camera up, adjusted the zoom one last time and started taking pictures, first of them eating and feeding each other and then finally kissing. The shot, I had it. Case was closed.r />
  Since there were some problems with the bus due to heavy traffic we decided to walk back to the office. Metro just wasn’t an option for me. I hated it and couldn’t understand why people would do something like this to themselves. It was like being buried alive. The metro was crowded, stuffy and stressful. To see only blackness out of the window, just thinking of it had a shiver running down my spine, not the pleasant kind. I much preferred to take the bus. It needed counting in a little more time but at least I could enjoy the beautiful sight of the city I was born to protect.

  A teenager was waiting outside my office. His voice had been strong and deep at the phone so I was a little surprised. He leaned with his back against the wall beside the entrance, smoking a hand-rolled cigarette and wore flip flops, dark jeans, a shirt claiming he was schizophrenic and a black hat.

  We approached and he noticed us. “You’re Maiwenn Cadic?”

  “Yes.” As I moved to open the door, he detached himself from the wall, straightened up and flicked the cigarette butt away.

  The boy gave Kylian a suspicious look. “Who’s the sidekick? I thought you work alone.”

  I looked to the side and caught Kylian’s dark glaze, and I had to check myself to keep from laughing at the idea. “I do. He’s just helping out with another case.”

  We got into my office, where with an ease as if he were at home Kylian took one of the two chairs standing in front of my desk for clients to plant it directly beside mine – behind the desk. With a killing glance, I promised payback, but for now, we all sat down.

  Romaric took his hat off, revealing not only dark hair - that was anything but tamed in a modern and a little asymmetric haircut - but also two smooth, black horns, crowning each side of his forehead. A demon? I looked into his eyes. They were jet black, and I couldn’t distinguish the pupil from the iris. Yep, demon. With deep emotions their horns would grow and their eyes would be literally swallowed with black, not even leaving traces of white in the corners of the eye.

  Hmm, this might...no, I was pretty sure that he was the first demon ever to ask for my help. Normally they took care of whatever problems came up themselves. How intriguing.

  “Okay, Romaric. You said it’s about a missing person?”

  “Yes, my girlfriend. She’s a vampire.”

  His left leg bounced nervously up and down, as if he would like nothing more as to run out and look after her. But there was something else, something strange, I could sense it.

  “If she’s a vampire why didn’t you go to the Queen instead? Why ask me for help?”

  “I heard you can kick ass like hell, I didn’t want to bother the others.”

  Bother the others? Okay, there was definitely something wrong here. I crossed my arms over my chest and leaned back in my chair, giving him my best don’t-fuck-with-me-stare. “Thanks, but come on, let’s cut the crap! Why are you here?”

  Romaric looked at his feet, biting his lip. His horns twitched, giving away how troubled he was. Then he looked up, taking a deep breath as if preparing for a long dive. “I’m not allowed to have a girlfriend, that’s why.”

  I frowned. “Care to elaborate?”

  He grimaced. “I’m promised to Lilith.”

  Oh, come on. Was it let’s-drive-Maiwenn-crazy-week? I leaned forward, nearly begging, “Are you kidding? Please, tell me you’re kidding.”

  He shook his head.

  Dammit. Lilith, a succubus demon, was the Queen of the Undead of France. And she didn’t like me. I killed too much of her children, as she’d put it. She united all vampires and demons of the country. Their biggest branch of the family lived underground in Paris, in the Den, since food was plenty here.

  Once in a while Lilith chose a new companion from her subjects to ensure nice free-time pleasures. She’d pick them while they were still young, and from that moment on they would be off the market, unavailable and untouchable for everyone, till they turned eighteen – then they belonged to Lilith.

  “How old are you?”

  “Seventeen, but I’ll turn eighteen in a few months.”

  Would someone be so kind to put me out of my misery?

  I sighed, “And your girlfriend? Tell me about her. What’s her name?”

  “Her name is Josi, Josianne Bellemort. We meet in secret, places where no one can find us, you know. Yesterday she didn’t show and that’s just not her, really. We’ve never missed a date. We can rarely see and meet each other, so what little time we have together is really sacred for us. Besides, I haven’t seen her in the Den, either.” He was worried, his puppy-dog eyes begging me to help him. But I needed some answers first.

  “What about her parents? If she’s missing maybe they already asked the Queen for help?”

  Romaric got a little angry, his horns thickening, growing. His voice dripping with disgust, he snarled, “I don’t know. It’s an old vampire family, you know. Purebreds. They don’t want her to be together with the likes of me.”

  Ladies and gentlemen I proudly present ‘Romeo and Juliet’, the demonic version.

  Since I’ve already booked a seat on Lilith’s shit list, I couldn’t care less if I got her panties in a bunch again over this. My job was it to keep the city safe. If people disappeared, I had to take care of the problem.

  We were all part of the magical community, so why should I refuse to help this young and lovestruck demon of all people?

  “Okay, listen I need a photo or picture of her if possible and you have to show us all your hideouts, love nests, you name it.”

  Romaric pulled out a paper, folded into a small square. I took it from his hand, unfolding the paper. It was a colored drawing, a very good and detailed one, showing a young girl with straight, dark blond hair and delicate features.

  I looked at him. “Did you draw this?” When he nodded, I added, “Wow, you’re good. May I keep it?”

  He nodded again.

  I folded it and stuffed it to Judith’s picture under my wristband. Then I pulled open one of my drawers, taking out a note pad and pencil. “I have some questions I need you to answer honestly. When and where did you see Josianne for the last time?”

  “Four days ago, so last Friday. Around three in the morning in the Muséum National d’Histoire Naturelle.”

  I pulled up one of my eyebrows, while jotting down the facts. “A museum?”

  He nodded. “We choose only places where no one would go at night, especially the Undead, you know. Museums, La Menagerie and even churches, stuff like that.”

  Wow, that girl really loved him if she went into a church for him. Churches had the same effect on vampires as silver had on shapeshifters, which meant they got violently sick. Every undead steered well clear of these sacred places. So, yes, it was a perfect meeting place.

  “Not bad. And where were you to meet yesterday?”

  “Inside of the church Saint-Paul-Saint-Louis, at midnight.”

  “Do you have any idea what Josianne did between Friday and yesterday? Did she have any plans? To go somewhere, to do something?”

  He shook his head and expelled a long breath full of tense desperation. “During the summer months the vampires like to sleep in, you know. All day, from eight in the morning till eight in the evening. Then she goes to school, which starts at nine. Depending on her schedule, she stays three to six hours.”

  “Where’s the school? And why don’t you meet there?”

  He gave me an are-you-off-your-rocker-look, and then explained very calm as if speaking to a child. “I can’t tell you. Look, I’m Lilith’s Chosen, I’m not allowed to go to school. I have to follow private lessons. And even if we went to the same school, we couldn’t meet there. ‘Cause, you know, with all the gossip going around, Lilith would have known about us long before we even would have been aware of our feelings for one another.”

  Romaric had a point there.

  “Okay, let’s try something else then. Do you have something with you or on you right now that belongs to Josianne? Something personal?�
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  He thought about it for a while, and then he pulled a necklace from underneath his shirt. It was an oval locket on a simple chain, both were gold. I reached out and Romaric let the necklace drop in my hand.

  “Will that do?”

  The small locket was beautiful, and simple with only the letter ‘J’ on its back. I opened it, discovering a dark blond strand of hair and a tooth. A very pointy one.

  It was an old tradition, the most powerful and ultimate proof of love. But since these gifts gave the companion power over you, only a few couples still followed it.

  “Yes, it would do. If it’s okay with you, I would like to take a bit of her hair and ask the pendulum.”

  He looked relieved and held up his hands. “Totally fine with me. Anything to find Josi.”

  I nodded and went over to my cupboard to get out a big shrink-wrapped map of Paris and surroundings, a small copper cauldron, four candles out of beeswax and my pendulum. I put the map on my desk, which fortunately faced north, and arranged the candles corresponding with the cardinal points around it.

  First the black candle in the North, representing the dark midnight; followed by the white one in the East, replacing the rising sun. The third candle in the South was yellow, and in the West, red like an evening sky, the fourth and last candle found its spot. The cauldron, wherein I placed my spirally coiled, brazen pendulum and a little of Josi’s hair, became their centre.

  After gesturing for Kylian and Romaric to stay silent for concentration’s sake, I tapped the magic within me. In my mind I’d always imagined it as a calm, blue-green cloud. I leaned forward and lightened the candles with my own breath. Beginning again with the one in the north, I blew carefully atop it. First a little smoke, then a teal colored flame came to life. East, South and West followed. After that, I did the same with the cauldron. Blowing over it, the hair got up in flames, which were instantly swallowed by the pendulum.

  The hair was gone and I set the cauldron aside to take the warm pendulum in my hand, positioning the thread so it was hanging from between my thumb and forefinger. I sat down in my chair, sitting up straight but still relaxed, one elbow resting on the desk. I held the pendulum over the center of the map and concentrated on it, imagining it swinging from north to south, pushing it with my thoughts. Slowly the pendulum began to follow the movements I asked it for. When I was satisfied with the swing I added an east-west swing, soon changing the motion into a clockwise circle.