Blue Moon Rising (The Patroness) (12 page)

“And the ghost?”

“Philippe. Well, when Mathieu started University he moved into an apartment of his own. One day he called, told me that weird stuff was going on there. I went to check up on him, and found him calmly sitting on the floor and chatting with a ghost. That’s when I knew he had magic in his blood. Humans can’t do that. Some of them might be able to sense a ghost, but not actually to see it. Philippe died in the late 60’s. I don’t know when exactly, he doesn’t like to talk about it.”

“That explains a lot.”

I smiled at him, “His clothes?”

“His whole being.”

“Yeah, well, he’s a teen forever stuck in the times of flower power. What do you expect? Anyhow, after Philippe had found out that Mathieu could see and hear him, he stopped his pranks and they became friends. They’ve been inseparable ever since.”

He touched my shoulder. “You love them. They’re your family.”

“Yes. Maybe not by blood, but in my heart. And that’s all that matters. I would do anything to protect them.”

He was lost in thoughts for a while, his expression unreadable. Then his face cleared, “And you really have no idea what Mathieu is?”

I shook my head and grinned.
“No. But I can tell you what he’s not. He’s neither faery or a witch, nor shapeshifter or vampire.”

“Hmm, I guess t
he Turn will be very fascinating for him then. And for us.”

“Oh, that’s for sure. I await t
he Turn with a mix of excitement and fear. Excitement for all those other humans with latent powers just like Mathieu, and fear of the chaos and panic that might go with discovering them.”

“The Council and we all are trying to make the transition as smooth as possible for all of us. Though we can’t predict how the humans will react, we’re at least preparing their governments and other institutions as best as we can so they will be able to explain things. There might still arise chaos and panic on the streets. But we’re minimizing it.”

I nodded, but instantly wished I had spoken my agreement out loud since my stomach chose that moment to growl, which made Kylian laugh.

He stood. “Come on, Patroness, let’s get you something to eat.”

I followed him and together we went down the stairs.

There he said, “Thanks for the shirt by the way.”

“Thank Chastel.”

He stopped, his eyes dark as he looked at me. I just shrugged and continued downstairs. It had been a question of survival. Get him a new shirt or have him running around near naked. Though the shirt didn’t do any good; all plastered against him and outlining his well-defined ropes of muscle.

Kylian caught up and we were about to pass the bathroom as the door suddenly flew open and a naked Chastel blocked our way. He turned to me, leaning closer, “Good morning, sweetheart. Did you enjoy the night as much as I did?” And to Kylian he added, “I hope you don’t mind a little competition?” Chastel chuckled, blew me a kiss and returned into the bathroom.

“You’re right. He’s suicidal.”

“Told you so.”

We continued our way towards the kitchen, where Viviane and Pauline had set the table – or rather the counter – and prepared breakfast. The air was sweet, flavored with fresh coffee and warm pastries. Mathieu and Philippe were already sitting, ready to dug in. I went over to them and gave Mathieu a quick kiss on his cheeks. With Philippe being shapeless and nearly transparent I couldn’t greet him that way.

“Salut, how are you?” Words had to be enough. Sometimes I found that way of living downright cruel. Without touch, taste. Who could allow a being to exist in this kind of non-existence? I really hated the higher powers. Why didn’t he run into that goddamn light? Instead he’d been a ghost for over forty years now.

“Très bien. And you?”

I took a calming breath. It was his life, his decision and I knew very well that he didn’t want to talk about it. God knows I’ve tried. “Fine.”

Chastel came into the kitchen, fully clothed this time. He winked at me, Kylian glared at him and I rolled my eyes.

Viviane finished slicing a perfumy honeydew melon, gave the cubes into an already brimmed bowl of fruit salad and mixed everything one last time before carrying it to the table. She was lightly tanned, probably the result of spending more time on the rooftop terrace, and looked well-rested. She cau
ght me gazing at her and smiled.
“Our little gatherings are getting bigger and bigger it seems. Definitely a change for the better. We might even need a real table.”

The others laughed and I smiled back at her, and we all settled down. Viviane was right. After freeing Mathieu we’d fast become a little family and tried to meet at least once a week. It had become a tradition that did us all good. Now, instead of our usual four, we were seven trying to fit around the kitchen counter which normally did the job just fine.

Viviane poured coffee for all of us, and I gave a spoonful of honey in my mug – that was how I liked my coffee the most. Then I explained to Kylian the different kind of pastries I had bought in the bakery early in the morning. I had wanted for him to taste some specialties of different regions of France.

Soon chatter about everyone and the world was in full swing, the noises like a caress and filling my heart with a spreading warmth. But eventually I had to come back to the problem at hand.

“By the way, did you find or hear anything on campus about what I told you?” I asked Mathieu, who was busy wolfing down his half of a small fruit cake.

I sighed, “You know, those pointy little things in your mouth? They’re called teeth and could help you to chew your food.”

He just grinned back at me – or at least he tried to – and swallowed. “Nope, not yet anyway. Yesterday we didn’t make it to the bulletin board. We’ll check it out today.” His university was very big, so I could understand him. “Besides, lectures haven’t started yet,
so
there aren’t many students on campus. Might be I find nil.”

“You do whatever you can, and call me when you find something, okay?”

“Will do.” He looked at his watch, “Shit, we have to go.” Mathieu and Philippe got up and we said good bye. “Thanks for the food. Nice meeting you, Pauline,” he added, giving her a flirtatious smile. Oh no, right what I needed. Please tell me he did not have a crush on my new roommate. Who could blame him, though? She was beautiful and sweet.

I shrugged mentally and brought them to the door, where I hugged him one last time, and off they went.

The rest of us helped clearing the counter and washing the dishes. Then it was time for me to head downstairs into the office. I kissed Viviane and Pauline on the cheeks, “See you later,” and grabbed my things and the obligatory last cup of coffee. Kylian was bent on going with me, and so we both headed out.

“What’s on the schedule for today?” Kylian asked as soon as we were downstairs in my office.

I was sitting at my desk, distracted as I searched through some papers when I answered, “Ah, a case of adultery. Monsieur Lefebre is persuaded that his elfin wife is cheating on him. He wants evidence, so I’ll have to follow Madame and try to get the shot. Lucky for me, she’s supposed to meet with her business partner, the suspect, for lunch today. That happens quite often lately. Those lunches are, according to Madame, very important but informal meetings to do brainstorming and absolutely nothing to worry about.”

“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.