Blue Moon Rising (The Patroness) (9 page)

He chuckled.
“Let me guess, more acid?”

“No, not this time. Listen, it’s important. I need you to keep your eyes and ears open. Find out if there’s a group or organization or whatever that is somehow against the magical community or even the supernatural in general. They might even hint at taking actions about it. You know what I mean? Could you do that for me?”

“Sure, no big deal.”

“But if you find something, you stay put, you hear me. Call me, no Rambo-ing on your own, ‘kay?”

“Yes, mum.” He hung up. Maybe that wasn’t such a good idea.

“Who was that?” Kylian wanted to know.

“A friend of mine,” I replied absentminded. I didn’t want anything to happen to Mathieu. But he wasn’t alone, I tried to calm myself, and he wasn’t a child anymore. And even if something might happen, Philippe would let me know immediately. Besides, they probably wouldn’t find anything at all, so there was no need to worry like an old mother hen.

“Hello, Maiwenn? Are you listening?” Kylian’s voice, sharper than usual and laced with a little anger, brought me back to reality. I had let my mind wonder about.

“I’m sorry, what did you say?”

He seemed tense and I was sure I’d heard teeth grinding. “Was that your boyfriend?”

“Ugh, no. He’s like a little brother to me.”

“Ah.” Then, “Do you have a boyfriend?”

Now it was my turn to tense. “I might be mistaken but I think that’s none of your damn business.” If I didn’t know better, I’d say he’d been jealous there for a sec or two. The thought made me smile. Put the brakes on, Maiwenn, you’re going crazy.

“You’re mistaken. We’ll be working together for the next couple of days or so, so I want to know if there’s someone who might take it the wrong way.”

“No.”

He sat strai
ght up and looked at me.
“By the way, I would appreciate you talking to me about your plans before jumping the gun on them.”

We stayed in my office till it was time to close up. Like every Monday it had been rather quiet. Michel had called a few minutes earlier and given me the addresses of three clubs that were in full vogue within the shapeshifter community at the moment. They’ve also been advertised for outside shapeshifters and could have attracted trespassers and loners, among which we assumed our rogue.

Kylian unfolded his map of Paris, studying it. “Where are those clubs again?”

“Rue de la Roquette, not far from here, another in the Quartier Latin and one at the foot of Montmartre.”

“You said the rogue was heading north as he fled yesterday, so maybe we should take a look at the last one. What do you think?”

I blinked at him, shocked. “Wow, I can’t believe it. Are we actually starting to work togeth
er?” I pulled one of my daggers.
“Who are you and what did you do to the caveman?”

“Funny,” he replied dryly. “That toothpick supposed to impress me?”

“Depends on who’s wielding the weapon”. I checked the daggers operativeness by hitting the concealed button and the two additional blades snapped out, flawless. Then I tucked it away, and locked the door of the office behind me.

We walked side by side along the streets, heading for Montmartre. The sun was low in the sky, and it was one of my favorite moments of a summer day as the setting rays of sunlight hit the sandstone buildings just so that they radiated in
a soft yellow or even pink hue
.

“Have you ever been to Paris before?” I asked Kylian.

“No, though from what I’ve seen, I’m sure it’s worth a trip. And even with what little I saw I think it’s quite fitting for you to be the Patroness of Paris. You’re like Paris and Paris is like you.”

“Noisy?”

“A mystery.” He looked at me with dark eyes, and his lips curved. “Speechless? That’s a first from you, at least since we’ve met. Maybe I should compliment you more often.”

I just rolled my eyes, which made him laugh even more.

We reached Pigalle
at the foot of Montmartre. We stood at a traffic circle and not far away you could already see the bright neon signs and hear the hard beat of music announcing bars, sex shops and restaurants. This quarter drew the tourists like moths to the flame. But it was still too early to check out the club. Then I saw the little white tourist train and had an idea, so I grabbed Kylian’s hand spontaneously to drag him along. “Come on.”

“”What are we doing?

“A little sightseeing. The club’s still closed anyway.”

As the sun was beginning to set , the Petit Train chug along, passed the famous red-winged Moulin Rouge, and up to the highest point of the city on the only road leading directl
y to the top. Closer and closer
to finally reveal the all white Sacré Cœur Basilica.

We got out of the train and I led Kylian to the grand sta
ircase in front of the basilica
that offered a breathtaking view over Paris. As always the place was cramped with tourists, from all kinds of places, speaking all kinds of languages.

We sat down on the stone steps, enjoying silently this magic moment as the sun set in the west, bathing the city in her tangerine glow. It was beautiful. As dusk was falling the lights in the street went on, spreading a warm blanket over Paris, the City of Light. As if the sun had left a part of her. Beneath my feet lay what I was fighting for, day after day. Sure if you lived here long enough this city was mostly noise and fumes, but also, if you looked, simply beautiful. Sometimes I wondered whether it was still worth it, and then there were moments like this, the city softly framed by sunlight, couples kissing, children laughing
or even bickering. I’d see life
and I’d know the answer: yes.

After a while Kylian got up and offered me his hand to pull me on my feet. We stood face to face, close but not touching except
for
where he held my hand in his.

“Thank you for this moment.” Neither of us moved. His gaze dropped to my mouth.

Suddenly a drunken guy rammed into me, breaking the spell. I took
my hand back, cleared my throat.
“We’d better go.” And headed for the train without looking back.

What had gotten into me to show him the hill? I had a problem to take care of and no time for either sightseeing, melodrama or slobbering all over this guy, no matter how fascinating he was. I had to get a grip.

As soon as we were back at Pigalle I hopped out of the train. Note to self, avoid small confines, especially in combination with Kylian. I took a deep breath to get his scent out of my system and to calm down. This whole emotional yoyo thing just wasn’t me.

It was dark now, so we went to the club. From the outside it looked like all the others along the street, promising not only music for the ears but something special for the eyes too, if not more. Most humans walking by wouldn’t even notice that something was off, but somehow, instinctively, they would avoid going there. The bouncer looked different, though. He was six-three and looked a lot like Vin Diesel, on steroids, with his shaved head. As Vin took a look at me he raised his hands, toilet lid sized, and shook his head. He had sniffed me out.

“She’s with me,” Kylian said and after Vin took a look at him, we were in. Hmm, maybe having Kylian around wasn’t so bad after all.

It was my first time in one of the famous shapeshifter hangouts. Even as the Patroness, or maybe because of it, I’ve never been allowed into one. Once inside we were greeted by dim light and slow rhythmic music promising sensual delights. Right what I needed. Not.

The left wall was covered with shelves full of all sorts of alcoh
ol and completed by an inviting
zinc coated bar counter. The rest of the room was dominated by a well-worn dance floor, surrounded by several cozy looking seating corners. On the dance floor were two small platforms with strippers on top of them. Their dancing, pure sex. One of them had even changed a little, showing off her cheetah ears and tail. Right now she was moving the latter in a definitely not submissive manner between her legs.

I followed Kylian, who was moving towards the bar. Good choice. We sat on barstools and surveyed the surroundings. A lot of skin, no weapons. Yeah, well, they didn’t exactly need them, ten razor-sharp claws and five-inch long teeth did the job too. I was glad Cutter was hidden from their view as long as it stayed sheathed. I loved magic.

The bartender came to us and leaned over a bit, ready to take our orders. He looked positively yummy, like every shapeshifter I’ve come across so far. “Is that some kind of admission requirement?” Did they just change the hot guys, or what? Why weren’t there any ugly shapeshifters?

“What?” both men asked in unison.

“Never mind. Coffee and a Calvados, please.”

Kylian looked at me.
“What beer would you recommend?”

“Bottled or draft?”

“Bottled.”

After a little thinking, I ordered a Breton beer for him. The bartender nodded and prepared our drinks, his moves quick and automatic. In the meantime I looked around again. The place was already crowded, on the dance floor near naked bodies were sinfully moving against each other, getting carried away in a wave of lust. Expressions of pure delight and wicked desire spreading across their faces.

I felt Kylian watching me intently. “You’ve never been to a shapeshifter hangout, right?”

“I’ve never had the privilege, no.”

“Do you like it?”

Did I like it? Let me think. I was a woman who’d gone without sex for over a year now, in a club bursting with sex and a guy at my side who constantly brought my hormones up to their boiling point. I liked being here probably as much as a recovering alcoholic being in a liquor store.

I ignored his question. “To be honest, I hadn’t expected this. Shapeshifters claim themselves to be always in control and disciplined, so I’m kinda surprised to see them all so…loose.”

He chuckled. “Well, that’s why we generally don’t allow outsiders to hang out here. We need to preserve our reputation. But, deep down we’re half animals, and we do accumulate aggressions and emotions that need an outlet. Fighting or…” he motioned with his head to the side of the floor. On one of the silk covered tables a woman was having a really good time with two men. I swallowed.

The bartender brought us our drinks and I sweetened my coffee which gave me a little break and time to gather myself. Not wanting to raise suspicions by changing the subject too abruptly I tried to guide it into hopefully calmer waters. “What about life-long mating then? Just a fairy tale?”

“No, it exists. The problem is you can’t know for sure until after having sex with the potential mate.”

So much for a calmer topic. I arched an eyebrow at him.

His lips curved
.
“Okay, there are signs even before that. But most of us prefer playing it safe.”

“I bet you do.” Intrigued, I inquired, “How can you be sure, after the sex I mean? What happens?”

“That I can’t tell you.”

I leaned back.
“Ah, here it comes, the famous shapeshifter secrecy. Why am I not surprised?” I shook my head and downed my Calvados, enjoying the sweet burn along my throat.

Kylian tried to explain, “It’s to protect our women, our mates.”

I looked at him, still not buying it. “What? Do you think I would run off and kill your potential mates?”

He stayed earnest. “Some might. I’m not saying you would.”

“Oh yes, you kinda are. Otherwise you’d just tell me.” He confused me, I needed another drink. “Did you like the beer? Want another one or something new?”

Kylian watched me for a moment but then accepted the sudden change of subject. “I liked it, yes. But it can’t hurt to try another one.”

I leaned forward and waved the bartender to us, “Two Biere du Demon, sil vous plait.”

We sat their drinking some nice European beers, but after a while I remembered the reason for our visit. “So what about the scents? Did you catch anything?”

He shrugged. “There are too many people, I can’t tell from here. We need to mingle.” He stood, his brown and blue ey
es on me, and held out his hand.
“Do you want to dance?”

I shot a glance at the dance floor, pulsing with near naked, titillating bodies and then at Kylian. Hell no. “Why not?” Wait, that wasn’t what I wanted to say, was it?

What the heck, even the Patroness was allowed to have fun every once in a while, right?

I took his hand and there it was again. A spark. My skin tingled, where we touched. It was probably just the alcohol playing games with me. Although, come to think of it, this morning after our fight I’d had the same kind of reaction to him. Maybe my skin was just a little more sensitive than usual because of the healing wounds. Yes, that had to be it.

I hopped off the barstool and followed Kylian to the dance floor. A song ended and a new began. Slow, beating rhythm. A song that whispered of love and moaned with desire. We moved to the music and only this moment existed. I let myself go. Kylian put his hands on my hips, pulling me to him, then he leaned down to inhale my scent. Automatically I tipped my head to the side to give him better access. His breath was warm on my skin, our hips swaying in an age-old rhythm. Butterflies were stirring in my stomach.