Blue Moon Rising (The Patroness) (16 page)

When she saw me, she nearly gaped. “Wow! I didn’t know it would be curly.”

Untamed my hair was a full, blond mane curling around my face and falling in waves down my back. So as not to ruin the effect of my top though, I draped the locks loosely over one shoulder.

“That’s why I keep it braided all the time. It’s more-

“Practical, I know, I know, and understand. But, God, it’s a damn shame. You’ve got great hair. How do you do that?”

I had to laugh and wondered when I had stood with another woman in a bathroom to talk girl’s stuff for the last time. I was pretty sure that had never happened before. Well, it had been me to suggest for Pauline to move in, right the day after I found her dancing naked in a freaking fountain. I should have expected that living with her would be...different, and fun. To be honest, that’s why I liked her in the first place.  “You look great, too.”

She’d chosen a short, dark blue and silver-gray halter-neck dress, matching nicely with her violet wings. Her back was bare, so there was enough room for them to move and no need of making any slits.

“How do you explain the wings when somebody asks you?”

“Sometimes I tell them it’s a costume. Besides, if I tell them there aren’t real, they believe it. Humans can be strange sometimes with stuff like that.”

I shrugged, and then tried to move in my outfit, testing some kicks. Not bad all in all.

I managed to talk Pauline out of earrings but not the make-up. My eyes were the only part I really liked to experiment with, so I easily applied some copper, scintillating eye shadow and dark eye liner. A little grumpily I added a little blush and gloss. When I was finished I turned to Pauline.

I grinned and shook my head at the same time, still not beli
eving how much life had changed.
“Okay, let’s go then.”

After I quickly got Cutter, we walked into the living room where Kylian and Chastel were already waiting for us. They, too, were obviously game for the role playing. Chastel had changed his army pants against black jeans, accompanied with a black shirt. He really wasn’t exactly hard on the eyes.

Neither was Kylian. He wore jeans and a white, linen button-down shirt
, the sleeves of which he had rolled up his forearms
.

“Ready to...sing and patrol?” I asked, looking at each of them.

Kylian opened the door and motioned with his r
ight arm for me to lead the way.
“If you promise to be a good girl this time.” I walked through the door and heard Kylian mutter under his breath, “I’ll take that back.”

Turning slightly around I saw the corners of his lips curling into a wicked smile as he took in my bare back. I smiled sweetly at him, thinking that maybe dressing up from time to time couldn’t hurt.

“Why?” Pauline wanted to know. She hadn’t heard his last comment.

“They threw us out the door in the first hangout we’ve checked out,” Kylian explained
to
her, his eyes still on me.

I cut in, “Us? Correct me if I’m wrong, but I’m quite sure that was only my ass being teleported, not yours. You strolled out of that club as if nothing happened.”

Pauline arche
d her eyebrows and looked at me.
“Why would they do that?”

“Well, I’d say, birds of a feather...”

His gaze finally travelled up, meeting my eyes. “Oh, so you being armed to the teeth in a place where weapons are not allowed and killing shapeshifters once in a while has nothing to do with it?”

Although he said it playfully, he hit a raw nerve there but I didn’t let it show. “First of all, weapons are not allowed only because you don’t need them since you all are weapons. Secondly, I’m not killing shapeshifters, I kill rogues. And yeah, maybe it had a tiny bit to do with that little intermezzo.”

“Are you guys ready or is there enough time for me to watch the UFC?” Chastel had his arms crossed over his strong chest and stood leaning against the wall, looking bored.

“Yes to the first and no to the second. Let’s go!”

Kylian and I lead the way and Pauline locked the door behind us, bringing up the rear with Chastel.

La Rue de la Roquette was an old, long and narrow one-way street I often took, since it stretched all the way from the Place the la Bastille to the Père Lachaise cemetery, which always provided a good deal of work. The street buzzed with life; the sides were bursting with fashionable cafés and restaurants, good ones and bad ones, night-clubs, boutiques and galleries. Some of which sold ridiculously expensive or weird stuff, making me wonder as to how they were able to make their living. But a network of dark passages branched off and offered plenty of opportunities for the hungry shadows lurking in the night.

Another reason why I patrolled this street so often was that in the 1830s two prisons were built on both sides of the street. The first one, for juvenile delinquents and the second one was used as death row. The Parisians nicknamed those prisons with regard to the gravity of the committed crimes, the good-for-nothings in La Petite Roquette and the murderers in La Grande Roquette. Although they didn’t exist anymore, they had left a good deal of work. Curses, ghosts or spiritual traps that rudely pushed you to take a trip down memory lane. Not really beneficial for the victim’s health, but for my business.

The karaoke bar we were headed for looked like a regular Parisian café, but not in any way like those awfully modern ones whose range of colors only included lots of gray and a little touch of red. No, this one had atmosphere, with it’s nice bar and worn out wooden tables and stools.

We settled down at a table for four, in a relatively acceptable position, not too far away from the door. After a little struggle with the boys I was allowed one of the two desired chairs that had their back to the wall, therefore permitting a good and thorough observation of the place. Kylian took the other one, which – if body language was anything to go by - kinda pissed off Chastel big time, though he stayed silent for the moment.

We ordered our drinks; I took an orange juice since alcohol had proved to be a not so wise choice around Kylian, and Pauline took off, probably announcing her sing-readiness to the DJ and choosing a song.

I scanned the crowd. Weird that this bar of all places would rank in the top three of the most popular furry hangouts of the moment. Not that it was bad, not at all, odd thing was just that there weren’t a lot of shapeshifters around. I’d bet that less than a third of the crowd was otherworldly, most of whom were faeries and vampires at that. Hmm. Well, with the Blue Moon coming up and the resulting excitement the shapeshifters might rather prefer the ambience of the first club Kylian and I visited.

I couldn’t make out any threats among the guests, probably since the otherworldlers present knew that most of the clients were human. Besides, they were all here to sing and to have fun, and so I leaned back and listened to an old man performing ‘La Mer’. He had a beautiful voice, strong and touched with a trace of melancholy. It made me smile because it was also one of Viviane’s favorite songs. Maybe I should take her here some time.

Pauline came back to our table, pulling me back to reality away from my ideas of playing Cupid.

“And?”

“Only two other songs to go.”

Our drinks arrived and while grabbing for my orange juice I leaned a little forward and asked in a low voice, “Anything leaping to the eye?”

“It’s rather quiet here, the atmosphere, not the music. A lot of humans.” Chastel pointed out, voicing my own observation.

“Yeah, I noticed that, too.” I turned to Kylian, “I was wondering whether it could have anything to do with the full moon coming up. Is it possible that the shapeshifters would prefer other, say more private places these days?”

Kylian nodded, “Yeah, sure. Besides, there’ve been a lot of shapeshifters in an out of here, but most scents are a couple of days old, which might confirm our theory.”

“And what about the rogue?” Chastel asked, although we all knew the answer to that one. Kylian just shook his head.

The DJ announced the next brave singer, but I wasn’t really listening, the matter at hand, of course, having more priority.

Chastel leaned forward to keep things that weren’t meant for other ears at our table. “This is getting us nowhere. We should turn that city upside down, sooner or later we’ll find that Rogue or at least a useful trail.”

He was right. I stood up and wanted to take my stuff when I finally noticed the applauding crowd. Looking up I saw a lot of curious eyes focused on me. Oh no.

Pauline stood up, too, and whispered, “Um, we’re on.”

My face probably a masque of horror, I hoped I heard her wrong. “Come again?”

“Yes, I thought you liked to sing. You did it while we were gardening.”

I took a deep breath. “Pauline, I don’t do singing.” Before she could interrupt I added with a little less panic in my voice, “You were the one singing. Me? I like to hum, that’s different. Singing in front of a crowd, that’s something entirely different. Can’t you work a charm or something? I promise I’ll make it up to you. We’ll come back here another time and we’ll sing together, but right now I have to go on patrol. Please?”

I shouldn’t have worried. Pauline was my roommate and knew exactly what she’d gotten herself into by living with me, or almost. She wasn’t hurt about taking a rain check and immediately started to work a little charm, that let the DJ move on to the next on the list and gave us the opportunity to leave the bar unnoticed.

Once outside I took a deep breath. Boy, that was close.

“Okay, I’ll head home, as promised.” Pauline smiled and gave me a kiss on each cheek. “Be careful out there!” She then turned to the guys to say goodnight.

When it was Chastel’s turn he touched her arm and asked, “You sure, you’ll be fine?”

“Yes, I’ll be fine. It’s not far, anyway.”

Over Pauline’s head Chastel and Kylian exchanged glances, their expression unreadable but I felt as if some kind of common accord unknown to me had been reached.

I hugged Pauline a last time. “Lock the doors as soon as you’re home.” She rolled her eyes and laughed, heading off. “Sweet dreams.”

While Pauline was walking home we took off into the opposite direction, heading for the square Place de la Bastille, passing the softly lit cafés and bars crowded with tourists.

“So this is the place where the famous Bastille prison stood?” Kylian asked.

Since the Patronesses of Paris have been around for a quite some time, knowing the city’s history was kind of inevitable. So I decided to give him a tour of history. “Yep, the Bastille was originally built in the 1370s as part of the city’s defenses, as the meaning of the word is actually ‘stronghold’ or ‘bastion’, but it was converted into a prison by command of the king in the 17th century. Political and religious prisoners were primarily housed there. Well, that was before the monarchy abused on so called lettres de cachet and the king could imprison and sentence you without trial. The prison kind of acquired a bad rep after that. And though it wasn’t even one of the worst prisons in France, it was said to be a place of horror and oppression, and a symbol of autocratic cruelty.”

“Nice. You like history?”

“It comes with the job. And, well, it’s my city and you know how those places are,” I frowned, then smiled, “or maybe not. They affect not only the prisoners but also the surroundings. A prison seldom brings out the best of you, mostly it’s the contrary. So even today after all this time, after that famous July 14th 1789 when the neglected, starving people of Paris stormed La Bastille and triggered the physical destruction of the monarchy, you can still feel the nasty magic that building has left behind. Frustration, anger, aggression, all the bad stuff is a little nearer to the surface. Do you feel it?”

He frowned and was quite for a moment, focusing on his inner self. “You’re right.”

“Most people shrug it off and say ‘it’s the traffic noise’ or ‘it’s the pollution’, stuff like that, although that’s the case for every big crossroad in Paris.”

“Humans like to ignore such things and when they can’t, they find lousy excuses,” Chastel pointed out.

Kylian nodded. “Is it always like this, the bad magic I mean?”

“Hardly surprising that nearly every demonstration or protest march passes this place, don’t you think. But to answer your question, no, it’s not always bad. Sometimes the place inspires good stuff, which must come from the residual magic of the people storming the Bastille. I mean, there’s power behind that. A people going up against the cruelty they had to bear. Then concerts and similar events are the order of the day.” I smiled at him.

We’d crossed the square and took Rue de Rivoli. There were a lot of people in the streets after the heat wave had forced them to stay inside during the day. Now it seemed they were rebelling, and enjoying the air that was still warm but pleasantly so.

We turned left into the small labyrinth of passageways. And surprised a young man stealing a woman’s purse. Both were human. Before Chastel and I could do anything, Kylian took one great leap, grabbed the little thief by his throat, lifting him clear off the ground.