He nodded.
“Can you tell me more about her? About what happened?”
He took a deep breath. “Her name’s Sophie. She’s my wife. She went missing. Didn’t come home after work.”
“When was that, Monsieur Gauthier?”
“Two days ago.” For the first time his eyes looked at me, really seeing me as he watched me taking notes. “So you believe me, then? That she didn’t just run off?”
In these times a lot of people ran. I squeezed his hand. “We will find out.”
TWO
It was cold outside, and it was already getting dark. I liked that about winter; this open, natural and not oppressive kind of darkness. Funny thing given the fact, that I protected the City of Light which really lived up to its name in the winter. Soft lights illuminated the streets, vibrant ones decorated the houses and buildings and shop windows were colorfully dressed – at least where inhabitants or owners hadn’t left. Scents of cinnamon, burned wood and warm dinner wafted out of the cafés and floated on the cold, nightly breeze. The city’s magic was still there.
Christmas wasn’t far. I inhaled a deep breath of fresh air and smiled. Snow wasn’t far either. I enjoyed watching my breath come back out of my mouth as small, foggy clouds. Cutter, my beloved sword was strapped across my back but not visible in the leather sheath thanks to its own magic, and I felt the familiar weight of my emergency bag around my hips. Pulling up the collar of my coat against the cold I began my patrol and headed north-west.
A group of four dark and tall men caught my eye when I was patrolling in the eighteenth arrondissement, on my way towards Montmartre. Vampires. They mostly dressed all alike, mainly in black leather. Their skin was pale and nearly white, and nicely accentuated by their choice of wardrobe and their red, pouty lips. They believed the stark contrast and tragic aura made them the most mysterious creatures of the night. Right, keep on dreaming.
Their leader had long, raven hair and wore a ankle-length, black leather coat that dramatically billowed behind him – his trademark – and was one of the few who successfully pulled off the mysterious thing. Ah, pain-in-the-ass Valère.
I approached them slowly but unimpressed. “Hello guys.”
Valère stepped a little forward from the group and acknowledged me with a little bow of his head.
“Does this feel like a bad déjà-vu to you, too? What are you doing topside?” I wanted to know since vampires lived underground with Lilith, the Queen of the Undead, in their Den. They crawled out as soon as night settled, but Valère belonged to Lilith’s top guard and was never topside without a good reason.
“Can’t tell you”, Valère replied and immediately held up his pale hand. “Before you pull this whole I’m-the-Patroness-and-demand-answers shit I’ll tell you that we’re here under the Queen’s orders. No explanations. Her idea, her reasons. So go ask her.”
Weird. Two things were off. One, Valère had answered my question without our usual battle of wills. Two, he’d said the truth. And Lilith, the Queen of the Undead only ordered her best slayers to go topside if she feared for her Den’s safety. Okay, that were three things. Even more disturbing.
What the hell was going on? Ask her about it...I’d like to avoid that. Inside the city walls the vampires had the majority, but they also had the highest number of rogues, which were magical creatures that had become crazy slaves to bloodlust since it turned out that the sweet, coppery taste of blood was very addictive. So I killed them a lot, their rogues. It was the law and my job. Still it was reason enough for Lilith to hate my guts. And the fact that she felt it whenever one of her babies went dust-to-dust wasn’t helping either. I needed a little, okay, a lot more reasons and questions to go talk to her. There had to be another way to find out what had her panties in a bunch. Patience. One thing at a time.
I nodded, “Okay. Move on, then,” and continued my way, along the foot of Montmartre, across the dark cemetery, heading west.
After killing another blood-crazed vampire on my way through the city – see, at this rate I’d never be on Lilith’s good side – I checked once again the places where my missing persons had been last seen, which had added up to two by now. But I found nothing new. There was nothing I might have missed before. Well, at least nothing my eyes could have missed. I was half witch and therefore not gifted with a very sensitive sense of smell, unlike a shapeshifter. Maybe I could ask Inspecteur Vigeur to lend me hers.
And no, this was not a way to avoid Kylian, who had kissed me brainless, before practically disappearing without saying so much as a goodbye the last time we’ve met. Absolutely not. Really. Asking Vigeur would be a sign of good will, of agreeing that we all could benefit from a good collaboration. And a possibility to find out more about her. So...no avoiding. I was just being practical. Keep telling yourself that, a mean little voice grumbled inside of me. Shut up.
With the thought of being practical in mind I pulled out my cell and punched in her number.
Twenty minutes later, we met in a café where I had gone to warm up while waiting for her. Inspecteur Anouk Vigeur didn’t look happy at all as she found me and made her way to the table. Before sitting down she took off her coat, revealing black jeans and a comfy shirt that said ‘Only dogs have owners, cats have staff’.
I didn’t comment on it, at least not verbally though my eyes apparently did a good job at it. The lethal glare answering had me biting my lip to hide the laughter.
She growled, with more grouch than anger behind it that seemed cute and normal and so absolutely out of her bossy cop character. “It’s my night off.”
I held up my hands in a common gesture of truce. “Hey, I’ve a cat. I happen to know the saying is true. Just kinda funny to see it on the shirt of a feline shifter who commands an investigative unit.”
Another mock killing glance. “You’d better tell me why I’m here and not stretching out on my couch right now.”
I liked her. I’m a gut person and went with my instinct since it had saved my ass more times than I could count. The subconscious picked on things such as vibes and body language and most of the time one knew the basics of a person when you met. With Pauline for example it had clicked from the first moment, a warm bond and friendship suddenly there as if we had known each other in a previous life. Well, with my weird life that might actually be true. Anyway, with Inspecteur Vigeur I felt…at ease. Though, it didn’t mean I wouldn’t be careful while trying to figure out where exactly it was she stood and how she had gotten there.
I quickly clued her in on my two missing persons, and her demeanor changed from grumpy to being all ears, the cop’s curiosity stirring.
Resting her arms on the table she asked, “When were they last seen?”
“Madame Gauthier didn’t come home from work, an art shop not far from here. That was three nights ago. And Monsieur Dessus, a tourist slash visitor, went out of his hotel near Gare du Nord to get another bottle of wine to share with his mistress last evening and never came back.” Leaning forward I also told her about Monsieur Gauthier’s failed attempt to get the police involved. “They think she ran off.”
“It happens, Cadic. People react differently. Some are just sitting around waiting to die. And others are doing whatever will give them the impression of dying happily, which sometimes means they disappear to reappear in the arms of their high school sweetheart or some such. Only a few have listened and actually understood that this happened before and that our chances of survival aren’t that bad.”
“Monsieur Gauthier was her high school sweetheart.”
“Maybe she wanted a change then, fearing she might have missed out on something.”
I leaned back in my seat, studying her. She looked unconcerned, or tried to, but she couldn’t hide the flicker of interest in her eyes. “But you don’t believe that, and neither do I.”
She smiled sadly, “You’re right, I don’t believe it.” Vigeur expelled a deep breath and leaned back, drumming her finger on the table. “Both
disappeared in the same area, maybe just a few streets away from each other for all we know, and in the evening. Already too many points in common for my liking. Let’s go have a look.”
She got up from her seat, grabbing for her coat when I said, “I already did that.” I opened the small bag around my hips and pulled out two sealed plastic bags, one filled with a lock of brown hair and the other with a piece of fabric. Smiling sweetly I added, “Thought you could help me with the sniff.”
She didn’t return the smile. “Why do I suddenly feel like a search dog?” Vigeur muttered, but snatched the bags anyway.
Ha. Curiosity killed the cat.
The black leopard strolled silently along the sidewalk, only stopping from time to time to scent the air or the ground, its gait fluid and lethal, while I was following a few steps behind and carrying the Inspecteur’s clothes.
“Just walking my cat,” I muttered under my breath. The leopard turned his head, lifted a brow at me and growled. “My very big and annoyed cat.”
We had started at the hotel where Monsieur Dessus had last been seen since his trail would be the freshest of the two missing. For once even the weather was on our side; it was damp and it hadn’t rained in the last thirty-six hours but most importantly the wind, our biggest enemy, had settled. Ideal conditions. I wasn’t able to track scent but I had read about it and I had seen shapeshifters in action. Scents dispersed in the wind but would cling for dear life to shady areas and vegetation, to moisture to be exact, so Anouk’s best chances weren’t exactly the sidewalk but the shadows, corners, gutters and planted trees and shrubs along it.
As I looked at the sky that was clear for a change I could make out a few stars and a smile touched my lips. Whatever might happen, those stars would be there; even the Turn couldn’t change that. I hoped others would find comfort in that as well.
I grew up knowing that the magic left on Earth was only residual but that one day it would be back full force. So I wondered how it would be growing up thinking that the world had nothing more to it than was visible. How would it feel like now, suddenly knowing what was out there and having a family to protect – without the slightest idea as to how to do it? It was true, humans had a lot on their plate.
Anouk was right, there were those who disappeared without a word or explanation, too focused on running, on erasing the regrets or fulfilling the dreams they have.
But my missing persons? They didn’t fit the bill. I had checked their financials and nothing had seemed out of the ordinary, except that no withdrawals or purchases had been made since they went missing. Neither of them showed the behavior or had the cash on them that would support the runaway theory. But most of all it was my gut telling me that these two didn’t go voluntarily.
The black leopard hissed and suddenly I was ripped out of my thoughts as the pressure and atmosphere changed around us and I felt as if being squeezed in a hard hug by the air around me. For one moment my senses sharpened – the colors, scents and sounds became more intense and through the sheath across my back I could feel Cutter warming. My blood burned in my veins and my whole body seemed to vibrate with…magic, I realized. It was gone as quickly as it had come.
Coughing as my ribcage and lungs were released from the invisible hold, I looked at Anouk who had changed back into her human form.
Panting she cursed. “What the hell?”
Still breathing heavily and feeling exhilarated as if I’d run a marathon and won, I tossed her the clothes, which she hurried to put on. “I think we just got a taste of things to come. The gates leak.”
***
About The Author
Natalie Herzer is a twenty-five year old, German student living in France and writing books in English. She never thought so during high school but circumstances of life showed her that she loved languages. The love for words has always been there, and after "rewriting" some books in her head, she finally decided to give it a shot and to write her own.
She is the author of the urban-fantasy series The Patroness and Snapshots, a collection of short stories. For news, sample chapters and more, visit n-herzer.blogspot.com.
Blue Moon Rising (The Patroness) Page 24
