Blue Moon Rising (The Patroness) (21 page)

“Michel’s son,” I said.

Chastel’s eyes went wide. “The pack leader’s son? Wow.” He shook his head and continued to use his nice and fancy acids on the remaining bodies on the floor.

“That explains the fight. He’s probably high rank and pulled it,” Kylian commented.

I just nodded in agreement, not yet ready to think about the consequences.

After Kylian bandaged me up, I pulled on the spare top, and together we went into the kitchen to burn my old shirt and the stuff he’d used to take care of my wounds in a big pot. No need to leave anything traceable or curse-able behind.

Back in the club I collected my weapons, and strapped Cutter’s leather harness back on. Kylian watched me and asked, “How come the harness shows not even a slightest scratch when your shirt was a mass, by the way?”

Best strategy here – evasion. “It’s magic, like I said,” I answered with what I hoped to be an innocent and mysterious smile, and sheathed Cutter.

He stared at me. “What, that’s all I get? And that from someone who keeps on and on cursing the shapeshifter’s secrecy.” He lightly shook his head in faked disbelief.

I grinned at him and grabbed for my bag. “Let’s get out of here.”

We didn’t come far.

After turning around the next street corner, I stopped dead in my tracks. Four police officers were heading our way, and had my stomach plummeting as I immediately recognized one of them. “Et merde!”  Without turning around, I murmured only for Kylian’s and Chastel’s ears to hear, “Act as if I were a stranger to you.”

Kylian understood what was going on but ignored my demand, instead he grabbed Chastel’s crossbow in an inhumanly fast motion to throw it between the bushes of the restaurant terrace beside us. The officers didn’t even see a blur. Oh, if only I could do that.

My least favorite officer, the one I’ve told his wife was sidestepping, slowly approached us, his hands ready at his sides. “Tiens, tiens regardez qui est là, notre chère Mademoiselle Cadic. And you brought friends, how nice of you.”

I smiled brightly, two could play that game. “Ah, Inspector LaMarcq, how are you doing? I heard your wife’s wedding was beautiful. Sorry, I meant ex-wife.”

He stopped the act and barked, “Search them!”

His three lapdogs, of which two were women, did as he commanded. While they frisked us, I tried really hard not to crack up, and Kylian gazed over his shoulder and asked politely, “I’m a citizen of the United States of America. I’d like to know what’s going on? I’m not familiar with the procedure here.”

“Ferme ta geule, toi,” the officer said.

I helped out, “They aren’t very good in foreign languages. By the way, he said very rudely actually to shut up.”

They found a lot. My sword, which I gave voluntarily since I knew I would have to undress later and wouldn’t want to explain Cutter’s sudden apparition. Guns, ammunition, knives, shuriken, daggers and bottles of acid followed and were top of the list.

My worst nightmare grinned happily. “Emmenez-les!”

They handcuffed us, and roughly tossed us into their van. And off we were for their police station – and probably a night in jail.

It was quiet in the van, since we weren’t allowed to talk. Two officers, a man and a very mean looking woman, were riding with us in the back. We could have taken them down, but that would have created only more problems to take care of. I wished for Pauline to be here, a little glamour would come in handy right now. Really handy. But as it was, we would lose a whole night, something we couldn’t allow us. Time was running out. The first of three sunsets, and I would be sitting around, doing nothing. I hated situations like that. LaMarcq couldn’t have chosen a worse moment. And I hated that I couldn’t do anything about it, anything against him. Even if I filed a complaint, he would always be in the right. He was an officer, an inspector even, doing his job since he invariably found something in my possession that was of questionable nature, to say the least. LaMarcq had me cornered and I didn’t like it at all. Once the magic hit though things would drastically change and these trips would be over.

The van came to a halt and we got off. We were somewhere in the guts of the police station in the 11th arrondissement. They weren’t very fond of colors here, to say the least. Everything was gray. Gray walls, gray atmosphere, gray, gray, gray. How could they stand working here? No wonder, they were so grumpy.

The female officer took me by the elbow and led me to the women’s holding cells. The guys would be taken somewhere else. I knew the drill, first the doctor, then undressing and searching, then of you went into the cell.

The female officer knocked at the doc’s office, then opened the door for me to let me in. She would wait outside, respecting the medical confidentiality. The door closed quietly behind me as the doc looked up.

“Oh, nice to see you again, Maiwenn.” She was thirty-something with soft, brown eyes and dark hair, cut short and incredible caramel skin. Her honest smile was the only warm thing in this room, which was also gray.

I slumped down in the chair in front of her desk. “Too soon, from where I’m standing. No offense, Doc.”

I called her Doc, everyone called her Doc, though technically she was rather a medical assistant than an actual physician. She was the highlight of my visits, given the fact that Doc was the only nice and funny human around here.

“None taken. And, well, you know he has to fulfill his quota.”

“Yeah, I get that, but why do I always have to help him polish his statistics? Isn’t there anyone else to annoy?”

“Afraid not. So shall we start?” She went to a desk and picked up a small needle and some kind of electronic device.

I nodded and she took my left hand to prick my finger in a swift motion. A drop of blood emerged and was sucked up with the little device, which beeped after a moment. “Okay, nothing changed. No diabetes, no alcohol in your blood. You’re good to go, I’m afraid.”

I grimaced at the prospect of what was to come once I left this room but stood up, licking another drop of blood from my finger. “Thanks. See you.”

“Hopefully not so soon.”

Back outside the female officer brought me in yet another room where I had to undress myself, except for my underwear. She frowned as she saw my bandaged back, and began searching for illegal stuff, then gave me back my shirt and jeans. The rest, my belt, my sunglasses and anything else that could serve as a weapon against others or myself, were taken from me.

“Would you like the assistance of a lawyer or make a phone call?” the officer asked.

“Actually, yes I’d like to make my phone call.”

She led me to the phone and I punched in Viviane’s number. When she answered, I said, “Hey Viviane, it’s me, guess where I am?”

“I’ve already heard. How long does he want to keep this up?”

“I don’t know. Guess until he can hold me longer than twenty-four hours behind the bars. Anyway, how did you know that I’m at the police station?”

“Kylian called, a few minutes ago, and told me what happened.”

“Oh.” That was all that came to mind. But there was a little pang of warmth spreading over my heart. I swallowed. “That was nice of him.” Getting better, Maiwenn.

“Yeah, it was. He didn’t know how far LaMarcq would go, whether he would give you your phone call or not, so Kylian figured it’d be better to call me, just in case.”

“That was nice of him.” Not bad, but you’re repeating yourself. “Well, see you tomorrow then. Bye.” I hung up and was finally brought into my cell.

The cell was small, about eight feet by five feet, and rather sparsely furnished. A metal toilette in one corner, a stone bed in the other one and gray walls everywhere around me. With a sigh I sat down on the bed. LaMarcq would take his time. He loved grilling me. I wouldn’t get out of here before morning, but hopefully the guys had more luck.

Kylian had called Viviane to let her know that I was in jail. So she wouldn’t worry about me, when I didn’t come home tonight. I didn’t know what to make of it, of him. I thought back to some unexpected moments I had spent with him, the fight between us, when we were sitting on the rooftop and I told him about my family, and then our dance. It was not just nice of him, but sweet, that he’d thought of it, and I had to concede that Kylian the Killer was more than just a brute assassin. There was more to him, and every side, even his lethal one, pulled me. Professional, I had wanted to keep it professional but it had been in vain. My heart had decided differently. And to myself, alone in a gray cell, I could admit that I was scared.

With a sigh I lay back on the bed and tried to sleep. It wasn’t an easy task, since the water was continuously running in the toilette, the kind of sound that had your bladder revolting, and the obviously drunk woman in the cell next to mine was yelling her lungs out. Did things never change here? I closed my eyes, blocked out the noises and concentrated on my own calm breathing.

I awoke as the door of my cell was opened. It was the talkative female officer again. “He wants to see you now.”

“Well, could you please tell him that I’m trying to sleep here? I’ll catch up with him later.” That woman didn’t move, didn’t twitch, just kept on looking at me as if I were of an unknown species. Shaking my head I got up and murmured, “No sense of humour.”

LaMarcq was typing away on his computer as I was brought into his office, and ignored me.

“Same procedure as every year”, I muttered under my breath, the famous phrase of ‘A Dinner for One’.

He looked up, his mouth set grim, his eyes narrowed to slits, “What did you say?”

“Nothing.”

He leaned back in his chair, folding his hands over his round belly. “Ah, so shall I add ‘insulting an officer’ to the charges made against you?”

“Well, it kind of depends on how many there are already.”

He finished typing and his printer came to life. LaMarcq took the sheet and couldn’t hide a grin. “Mademoiselle Cadic, the charges ported against you are as followed, possession of illegal weapons of category blah-blah-blah, and, of course, insult.”

Nothing I didn’t expect. At least my guns and Cutter were licensed so he couldn’t add those to the list, which he held close to the chest as if it were a precious love letter. Jesus, that man needed to get laid. He took bearing a grudge to a whole new level. I wished he’d find a new obsession. I even thought about brewing a love potion for him, but really, let’s be honest, how could I do that to a woman.

“Nice, and what about my statement?”

LaMarcq’s face darkened, “Let me guess, it’s the same bull as last time. The weapons serve to protect yourself, since a few years back the poor girl was attacked and your aggressor has never been caught. Something like that?”

“Yes, with a little more heartbreaking adjectives, please, but otherwise it’s good. Oh, and I think the appropriate term is psychological trauma, it should figure in my statement.”

He just grunted and began typing my statement. After I’ve read and signed it, I stood up. LaMarcq stayed where he was, leaning back.

What now?

With totally faked sincerity he told me, “So Mademoiselle Cadic, I’ll give this to the DA as fast as possible.” Then he looked at his watch, held a hand on his mouth and continued, “Oh no, how the time flies. I’m so sorry, looks like the DA won’t be here until morning.”

LaMarcq grinned and blew me a kiss. “Sweet dreams!”

That man was a sick bastard.

Back in my beautiful, cheery cell, ignoring the annoying toilette and neighbor next door, I tried to concentrate on last couple of days’ events. Lying down on my back on the hard bed, I thought of Kylian again and really hoped he was all right. Shapeshifters didn’t react so well to being locked up. I could easily imagine him pacing back and forth in his small cell. His muscles...

Focus, Maiwenn!

Right. Concentrate on events.

First of all, we had five dead shapeshifters, witches and vampires, which meant that they would probably kill five ghost and five faeries soon, if they hadn’t already. And according to the gargoyles there were only two more sunsets left before, well, before it was too late. Too late for what, though? And who exactly were ‘they’?

Second of all, we had a dead rogue, no two. One freshly turned and probably meant as bait, as diversion. The second one was responsible for at least three murders that we knew of. Problem was, he was Michel’s son, which got me wondering. How could the Parisian pack leader’s son go rogue without anyone noticing? Seemed very unlikely, impossible even. Which left me with yet again more questions than answers. Did Michel already know about his son when we met in the park? Or did he discover it just recently? Or was it somehow possible for him to not know what was going on? Or was my hope to not have been fooled by a man I trusted marring my judgement on that last one? Well, one thing at least was for sure, Michel and I would have a nice talk as soon as I was out of here.

Pushing away those disquieting thoughts I closed my eyes. I wanted to be fully rested the next day.

The next morning I came awake immediately as I sensed someone stopping in front of my cell. Jumping off the bed, I instinctively tried to grab for Cutter but when my hand came up empty, I remembered my little visit to France’s finest, and relaxed, somewhat.