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Authors: Ariel Tachna

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BOOK: Reluctant Partnerships
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It had not helped at all.

Noël was no longer the issue, he reminded himself silently. His lover would have a few choice things to say about Denis’s continued isolation, for that matter. A year or two to grieve, perhaps, but Noël would demand to know what he thought he was doing, sitting on his arse thirty years later moping and lonely instead of finding someone else to fill the gaping hole in his routine. Noël would demand to know why he had not taken Martin’s outstretched hand at l’Institut tonight and never let go.

Denis had no answer for the ghost of his dead lover. He had rejected the thought of a partner out of hand, sure he could never find someone to take Noël’s place in his heart. He was still not sure he could find someone, but suddenly instead of a faceless, nameless potential partner at some unspecified time in the future, Denis had a name, a face, and a reality in front of him. Granted, Martin had expressed no more interest than Denis had, but that might not be set in stone.

The thought caught him off guard, the sense of betraying Noël’s memory so strong it nearly took him to his knees. He needed to talk to someone who would understand, not about the partnership, perhaps, but at least about having and losing a lover. He could not ask any of the vampires in his Cour without losing ground in le Jeu des Cours, not that he knew of any relationships in their past. He considered the vampires at l’Institut, but while he would not lose as much face with them as with the members of his own Cour, he still did not know any of them well enough to decide who to ask. He would have to ask Luc. They had lost touch after Denis returned to Autun when Noël stepped down as mayor of Amiens sixty years ago, but they had been friendly up until that time, certainly enough for Denis to have noted Luc’s grief at Fabien’s untimely death at the beginning of World War II.

He could approach Luc not as one chef de la Cour to another, but as one vampire to his maker, the only place le Jeu des Cours did not reign supreme, and maybe he could get some advice to help him make up his mind.

Chapter 12

 

 

“I
N
WHAT
world is this a good idea?” Adèle muttered as she put the finishing touches on her makeup. Angelique had called her on Friday night insisting she come to Paris for a night out with “the girls.” Immediately suspicious, Adèle had demanded to know who else Angelique had invited, sure word of her potential partnership with Pascale had made the rounds by now, but Angelique had only listed Magali Ducassé, Caroline Bontoux, and Mireille Fournier. Even if they had heard the news, Magali would not pressure Adèle into anything given how supportive she had been of Adèle during the fiasco with Leighton, and the last Adèle had heard, Caroline and Mireille were so wrapped up in each other they would not have time for meddling anyway.

Finally satisfied with her appearance, Adèle grabbed her purse and her wand and cast a spell to take herself to Sang Froid. She arrived in the foyer seconds later to find Angelique and Magali already there. Caroline and Mireille were nowhere in sight.

“Don’t you look stunning!” Angelique said, gliding across the room to kiss Adèle on both cheeks. “We’ll turn heads tonight for sure.”

Adèle brushed her hands self-consciously over the lines of the bright red dress she had picked for the evening. It had seemed like a good idea when she was getting dressed—a bright color to lift her mood and make her feel powerful—but suddenly, looking at the more subdued black and grey dresses Magali and Angelique wore, she felt loud instead of elegant. “Maybe I should go home and change,” she equivocated.

“You’ll do no such thing,” Angelique insisted. “You look amazing. Every man and woman in the room will want you.”

The comment, surely intended to ease Adèle’s nerves, only added to her unease. She could deal with men wanting her. She had no idea what to do about women wanting her.

If Pascale even would after her outburst the other night.

The thought shocked her to the core. She was not interested in women! Not in any kind of sexual way.

Before she could pursue the thought, Caroline and Mireille arrived, Caroline’s hand on Mireille’s elbow as the vampire guided her sightless partner into the room.

“Bonsoir, Caroline,” Adèle said with a smile she knew Caroline could not see. She had learned early on to make sure to speak whenever Caroline entered a room so the woman would know who was there and where they were.

“Bonsoir,” Magali and Angelique echoed.

“Bonsoir,” Caroline replied, approaching each of them in turn at Mireille’s side. If Adèle had not known Caroline could not see her, she would never have guessed, as Caroline met each of them in turn for kisses on each cheek.

“Are we all here?” Mireille asked, greeting each of the others in turn.

“We are,” Angelique said. “I thought we would have dinner for our wizards and then go out dancing. We can all use a little lightness after the last few days.”

“I don’t dance much these days,” Caroline said, her laugh light despite the seriousness of her situation.

“I don’t see why not,” Angelique said, gesturing for the other women to precede her out the door. “A chance to be as close to your partner as you want, to rest completely in her arms with no one to care.”

Caroline’s smile was brilliant. “I don’t need a dance floor for that, but we’ll see how the evening goes.”

Adèle could not explain the unexpected surge of jealousy she felt at watching the flush rise up Mireille’s cheeks. She did not want another partnership, much less with a woman who had no idea how to handle herself as a vampire or in any kind of stressful situation.

Adèle found she could not take her eyes off the two women as dinner went on. Caroline coped with her blindness through a combination of magic and Mireille’s help, but Adèle had grown mostly used to that in the times she had seen the other wizard since the end of l’émeutte des Sorciers. What fascinated her was the way Caroline’s eyes seemed vacant except when she looked at Mireille. When someone else spoke, Caroline’s head turned in the right direction, but her eyes never seemed to find the right place. When Mireille spoke, Caroline’s eyes fixed directly on her partner’s face as if not even her blindness could mute her fascination with her partner.

That was unsettling enough, but as Adèle kept watching, she began to notice other little things: the way their hands seemed to drift together, fingers twining together, or the way their shoulders always seemed to be almost touching.

Excusing herself, she rose from the table, suddenly flushed and aroused by the idea of them together.

Alone in the restroom, she wet a paper towel and rubbed it over the back of her neck beneath the fall of long black hair, trying to cool the sudden heat in her body.

“Adèle?”

Stifling a curse, Adèle tossed the paper towel and turned to face Angelique. “Yes?”

“Are you all right? You’ve been quiet all night, and you don’t look like you feel very well,” Angelique asked.

“Can you keep a secret?” Adèle asked. Not that it was really a secret, but she already felt the silent weight of Raymond knowing about Pascale. She did not want it to become common knowledge.

“Secrets are my business,” Angelique replied. “What’s bothering you?”

“My magic doesn’t work on the vampire who was turned last week,” Adèle said.

“But that’s wonderful,” Angelique exclaimed. “This is your chance at a proper partnership.”

“There are a couple of problems with that,” Adèle scoffed. “First, I don’t really want another partnership, proper or not, but even if I did, I like men.”

Angelique chuckled, the sound low and husky and far too unsettling for Adèle’s already fraught nerves. “Open your mind a little,” Angelique urged. “Life is a banquet. Why would you deny yourself half the flavors on the table?”

“Because they aren’t to my taste,” Adèle retorted.

“How do you know?” Angelique purred, stepping so close Adèle could smell her perfume and all but feel her breathing. “Have you ever tried? Have you ever had a woman take the time to explore your body? Men can be delightful creatures, but they’re still men. A woman, though, knows what makes other women tick. She knows how to seduce in a way a man never will, no matter how much he might adore his lover.”

Adèle’s skepticism showed on her face, prompting Angelique to step even closer until their bodies touched, her breasts pressing against Adèle’s. “I could show you.”

Adèle tried to take a step back, equal parts aroused and horrified by the proposition. “What about David? You can’t tell me he’d agree to that.”

“He wouldn’t agree to me feeding from you,” Angelique replied, “but I could persuade him to allow the rest.”

Adèle shook her head even as her nipples tightened in desire. She could not believe she was seriously considering Angelique’s proposal. “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she gasped. “I have to work with him.”

“The war is over,” Angelique reminded her, running her henna-painted hands up Adèle’s arms, stopping just short of touching the sides of her breasts. “You haven’t seen him in ages. You’re making excuses. If you don’t want to, simply say the word and I’ll forget we ever had this conversation, but don’t lie to yourself. There’s a sweet, scared woman waiting for you in Château-Chinon. She’s ripe for the picking, for
your
picking, if you’ll just stretch out your hand for her to take.”

“I don’t want a sweet, scared anything,” Adèle insisted, escaping Angelique’s grasp and struggling to catch her breath. “That’s the problem. If you were my partner, I might think differently about it, but I need someone who can be my partner, not a weight around my neck.”

Angelique shook her head sadly. “We would kill each other in a matter of days, although what a way to go! Pascale isn’t weak, despite what you think. She’s over her head without enough guidance, but she isn’t stupid and she isn’t sniveling. You need to get to know her instead of judging her for her reaction to a traumatic situation. Think about it, Adèle. With a man, you fight to keep your identity. He’s the top by virtue of his cock. With another woman, the roles are more fluid. You won’t have to fight Pascale for control of your lovemaking. She’ll give it to you gladly.”

“It’s not just about the sex,” Adèle retorted, seduced despite herself by the images Angelique’s words conjured up.

Angelique laughed. “It’s always about the sex, but since you seem to think otherwise, tell me what else it could possibly be about.”

Adèle waited too long to reply.

“You see what you’re doing, don’t you?” Angelique challenged into Adèle’s silence. “You fight so hard to prove that being a woman doesn’t make you weak, that it doesn’t make you less capable than your male counterparts, yet you make the assumption about women that you assume every man makes about you. You aren’t weak. You’ve proven that hundreds of times. Stop trying to make everyone else prove it. It isn’t fair to you, and it sure as hell isn’t fair to Pascale. Does she know?”

“About the partnership?” Adèle verified. “Yes, she knows.”

“And what does she think about it?”

“I don’t know,” Adèle admitted. “I didn’t wait around to find out.”

“Of all the stupid, insensitive things! I should turn you over my knee, but you’d probably like it,” Angelique snapped.

“How did I suddenly become the bad guy here?” Adèle protested. “I haven’t done anything wrong.”

“You haven’t done anything right either,” Angelique replied. “Think about how you’d feel if you were in Pascale’s shoes. Yes, I know, you’re a big strong wizard who couldn’t possibly be hurt the way Pascale was hurt, but you’re also a woman. Somewhere under that mannish exterior you put on for the world, there’s a woman’s heart. Maybe you should try listening to it occasionally before you miss what might be the best thing to ever happen to you.”

The derisive tone of Angelique’s voice cut deep as she turned on her heel and left Adèle alone in the restroom. Adèle stared at her reflection in the mirror, trying to reconcile the vision in the glass with Angelique’s words. A chill racked her as she realized what she had done. Even though she had dressed for an evening out, everything about her attire proclaimed her superiority, her strength. The sleeveless cut of her dress showed off her muscular arms and broad shoulders, almost too strong and broad for a woman, and the deep neckline drew attention to her breasts as if daring anyone to challenge her right to display herself as she chose. The short skirt emphasized her height and the power in her legs. No one seeing her would mistake her for a man, not with her figure, but no one seeing her would ever accuse her of being approachable either. She was too sharp around the edges, a man-eater, a man’s man, except that she was a woman.

Suddenly sick to her stomach, she rubbed her arms, trying to shake off the sense of having missed her chance. The warble of her cell phone interrupted her thoughts.

“Rougier,” she snapped.

“I’m sorry to disturb you on your night off, Detective, but the captain said I should call you anyway.”

“What’s happening?” Adèle asked, relieved to have something to focus on besides her own shortcomings.

“We got a call of a man running through town screaming. When we followed up on it, he said he was attacked by a vampire and turned.”

“Take him to l’Institut Marcel Chavinier outside of Dommartin,” Adèle directed. “I’ll meet you there momentarily.”

“Yes, Detective.”

Adèle snapped her phone shut and let work distract her. She returned to the table, where the others were just finishing their meals. “I’m sorry to do this to you, but I just got called on a case,” she explained. “Another case like Pascale’s. They’re taking the new vampire to l’Institut. Angelique, we’ll probably have to impose on you again if the man hasn’t managed to feed on his own yet.”

“Of course,” Angelique said. “I’ll let François know to expect you. Perhaps Sebastien or Jean will stay with him to guide him, since I’m out for the evening.”

Adèle started to insist, but while she had agreed to being pulled into work even on her time off when she signed up for the police force, Angelique had not. “I’ll ask them,” she said. “Bonsoir, Caroline. Magali, Mireille.”

BOOK: Reluctant Partnerships
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