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Authors: Ariel Tachna

Reluctant Partnerships (22 page)

BOOK: Reluctant Partnerships
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It took a moment after they all entered the room for Pierre to react, his head lifting slowly as he sniffed the air like an animal scenting blood. He turned to look at them, his eyes coming into slow focus on the pulse on Raymond’s neck. Faster than the eye could track, he lunged, only to be met halfway by a force even his addled brain realized he could not overcome. He slumped back to the floor, his head bowed in complete submission.

“Do not ever touch him,” Jean hissed in his ear. “He is mine and I will suffer none to harm him.”

Pierre whimpered in fear and agreement. Jean straightened and nodded to Martin. “You see what I mean about him being dangerous.”

“I couldn’t have cast a spell fast enough to stop him,” Martin agreed. “Even if I’d had my wand ready and was expecting the attack, I don’t think I could have gotten the words out.”

“He won’t get past me,” Denis assured Martin. “I may not have Jean’s longevity, but I’m faster and more cunning than any newly turned vampire, even one completely ruled by his instincts.”

He crossed the room and knelt down next to Pierre, his fingers forcing the other vampire to look up at him. “Don’t think that because I look young, I’m any less of a danger to you. You will not touch Martin either.”

“He is yours?” The words were so rough Denis could barely understand them.

“He is.”

Martin might have taken umbrage with the claim, since they had made no pact between them, but seeing how quickly the vampire could move had shaken him. If perpetuating the fiction of Denis’s claim protected him from attack, Martin would say or do whatever it took.

“That’s the first time he’s said anything coherent,” Raymond murmured at Martin’s shoulder. “It would seem that even his beast responds to vampire authority.”

“I’m not above using that if it lets us help him and keeps me safe in the process,” Martin agreed. “The question is whether it will be enough to keep him stable over longer periods of time.”

“Or when Jean and Denis aren’t around to enforce their authority.”

“I think I’ll make sure one of them is always around,” Martin replied with a shudder. “I have no desire to be attacked.”

“How do you feel about being claimed?” Raymond asked, his voice low enough not to carry to the vampires across the room.

“He said it to warn Pierre off,” Martin said, dismissing Raymond’s concern. “He doesn’t really mean it.”

“Don’t be too sure,” Raymond warned. “Vampires may say things in the heat of the moment, but some words are never used lightly. ‘Mine’ is one of them.”

“Surely I get a say in this too,” Martin protested.

“Of course you do,” Raymond replied. “I didn’t mean you had to form a partnership. I only meant that if he said it, even to protect you, a part of him already believes it. How you go forward with that information is entirely up to the two of you.”

Martin frowned, but he pushed the concerns aside for now. He could discuss it with Denis later, when they were alone and Martin had had time to think. For the moment, he needed to focus on helping the vampire currently cowering on the floor. “I hate the thought of this, but how long can he be locked in here?”

“In terms of how long l’Institut is willing to house him or in terms of his sanity?”

“Both,” Martin replied.

“L’Institut is a non-profit organization. We can keep him here as long as he needs to be here. As far as how long he can be confined before it starts making his condition worse, I haven’t the slightest idea,” Raymond said. “Jean? Did you hear Martin’s question?”

“For a normal vampire, I would say a few days, a week at the most,” Jean replied. “Not that vampires haven’t gone longer than that, cooped up in a room, but usually the need to feed drives us outside sooner than that. If Pierre can feed, that time could probably be extended somewhat, but the walls will start to close in around him. If we can get him stable enough, though, a walk around the courtyard at night could be enough to steady him. It’s the confinement that’s the problem. I still don’t know how Orlando stayed sane.”

“Has he fed tonight?” Martin asked.

“Yes, Adèle volunteered, hoping feeding would stabilize him somewhat,” Raymond replied. “It didn’t work as well as we’d hoped. He didn’t regain control of himself even after taking almost too much, but at least it obviates his need for blood tonight.”

“When will he need to feed again?”

“Newly turned as he is, tomorrow night would be ideal,” Denis said. “The night after at the latest.”

Martin nodded, calculating time and what would need to be done to get the medicines they would need. “If we miscalculate the dose and he gets too much, could it kill him?”

“I don’t think so,” Jean said after a moment. “We can ingest anything we want, but only blood nourishes us. I drink a brandy with Raymond in the evenings without feeling any effect from the alcohol. Sometimes I will eat dinner to keep others from being uncomfortable in my presence. Again, no effect. As Orlando mentioned, if Raymond has had a lot to drink, I can feel the afterimage of the alcohol, but not enough to impair me. I don’t think you need to worry about damaging him with medications. Not being able to get enough into him to make a difference is far more likely to be your problem.”

“Let’s go back downstairs,” Denis suggested. “He already fed tonight, so we can’t do anything now anyway. This door does lock so he can’t get out, right?”

“Not usually,” Raymond said, “but magic is an amazing thing. I’ve put a spell on the door so it can only be opened from the outside, or from the inside by a wizard.”

He led them back outside. “Martin, unless you need us, Jean and I have a few more things to take care of before we call it a night.”

“No, it’s fine,” Martin said, his mind already racing with possibilities. “The only thing would be to find a source of donor blood. If I have other questions only you can answer, I’ll make a note of them and we can discuss it tomorrow.”

“I’ve already contacted the blood bank about that,” Raymond replied. “Fortunately blood type doesn’t matter, so they’ve agreed to supply a liter of blood every three days, which is what Jean said Pierre would need to be in reasonably good shape as far as his hunger is concerned. Bonne soirée.”

Martin nodded absently as Jean and Raymond took their leave, his mind racing as he played with scenarios. He was so lost in his thoughts that he ran right into Denis. “I’m sorry. When I get involved in a research question, I can lose track of everything else around me.”

“Is there any reason for me to stay, then?” Denis asked. “If all you’re doing is planning out medicine regimes, I won’t be much help.”

“It can wait,” Martin said, shaking himself out of his thoughts. “I actually wanted to talk to you for a moment.”

“As long as I can get home before dawn, I have time,” Denis replied.

“Raymond was kind enough to provide a suite of rooms in the Hostellerie for me since I’ll be here for a year,” Martin explained. “We wouldn’t be disturbed there.”

“Are we worried about being disturbed?” Denis asked, a smile teasing around his lips.

 Martin shrugged. “Maybe not, but it will be more comfortable than the réfectoire or one of the labs.”

“Lead the way.”

They crossed the courtyard to the Hostellerie, the building the monks would have used for visiting guests of note. L’Institut had converted it into quarters for the staff, each suite consisting of a bedroom, bathroom, study, and sitting room. Martin’s was decorated in soft beiges and warm reds, giving it a welcoming masculine feel that had appealed to him from the start.

“So what did you want to talk to me about?” Denis asked when they were seated.

“Our partnership or lack of one,” Martin said slowly. “What you said to Pierre tonight. I didn’t come to France looking for complications.”

“I wasn’t aware you’d found any,” Denis replied coolly. “I haven’t—I won’t pressure you into anything. I made a decision when I was turned that I would always be in control of my instincts, not the other way around. If you don’t want a partnership, I certainly won’t force you into one.”

“That isn’t what you said the other night,” Martin said. “Not about pressuring me. That didn’t come out right. The other night, you said you didn’t want a partner either. Now you seem to be suggesting you’d be interested if I were.”

“Vampires live a very long time,” Denis said with a sigh. “It gets tiresome, always being alone. A part of me sees a partnership as a way to avoid that for a time. When I completed my seminar, I didn’t go through the matching process. I told myself I didn’t need a partner and that with my leadership in the Cour so new, I didn’t have time to devote to one. I’ve deliberately avoided coming back to l’Institut on Sundays so I wouldn’t get swept up into a match without meaning to. And then your magic didn’t work on me. I didn’t ask for a partner, but it would seem I have one anyway, and there’s a part of me that wants it despite everything else.”

A curl of warmth spread through Martin’s chest at the realization that Denis was not as unaffected as he appeared. “So what happens now?”

“Nothing,” Denis said. “You don’t want a partner. You’re going back to Canada at the end of a year. There’s nothing else to say.”

“So that’s it? We just ignore the fact that we could be partners?” Martin demanded, not entirely sure where his belligerence was coming from. He had spent a lot of time thinking about the complications of distance and responsibilities, but obstacles could be overcome with planning and dedication. He was a scientist, used to working odd hours and being alone because no one would put up with his crazy schedule, but a part of him yearned for someone to share his life, a partner to celebrate his successes with him and console him in his defeats. “What about the benefits? What about—”

“What about the fact that you live in Canada and I live in Autun?” Denis interrupted. “I’ll be the first to admit I don’t know much about the partnerships beyond what I learned in the seminar and what I’ve observed in the wizards and vampires around me, but this isn’t a temporary thing. We’d be fools to walk into it blindly. You hardly know me. You can’t tell me you’re ready to upend your life because of me.”

“No, I can’t,” Martin replied, more calmly than he felt, “but I’m not ready to walk away without exploring the possibilities simply because it’s complicated. I’m a wizard. Distances are not the hurdle to me that they are to most people. Yes, I have a job in Canada, but that doesn’t mean I couldn’t look for another job. Yes, you have a home here in Autun, but that doesn’t mean you couldn’t spend part of the year in Montréal. There could be very workable solutions to the obstacles to our partnership if we take the time to find them.”

“So what are you suggesting?”

“I don’t know,” Martin said, running his hand through his already mussed hair, “but I heard you tell Pierre not to touch me. It doesn’t require a PhD or a trained observer to see how pivotal the partnerships are to the people here at l’Institut, and when you said that, I had this sudden flash of longing. I’m not saying we should rush in blindly, but would it be so terrible to get better acquainted, to see if there could be something worth fighting for between us?”

Denis could think of plenty of reasons why it would be terrible, not the least because he already knew what it felt like to bury a lover. He did not regret his time with Noël, only the fact that it had ended. Martin was a young man, far younger than Noël had been when he and Denis had started their relationship, and he was a wizard, so he would live longer, but separation would inevitably come. “Let me think about it,” he said finally. “It’s a lot to consider.”

“Will you still come back tomorrow to help with Pierre?” Martin asked. “Even if you haven’t made your decision, tonight proved I can’t deal with him alone.”

“Whatever I decide, I’ll still help with Pierre,” Denis confirmed, the thought of the new vampire lunging for Martin the way he had lunged for Raymond enough to send a chill down Denis’s back.

“I’ll show you out,” Martin said, trying to hide his disappointment. He told himself the reaction was irrational, but it did not help. He had gambled and lost.

Martin walked Denis out to his car, nodding politely as the vampire unlocked it and climbed in. He did not wait to watch Denis drive away. That felt far too final.

Alone finally, Denis pulled out his cell phone and made the call he had thought several times about making since learning he had a potential partner.

“Allô?”

“Luc Cabalet?”

“Yes, this is Cabalet.”

“This is Denis Langlois. I don’t know if you remember me.”

“Of course I do,” Luc’s voice said through the line. “I haven’t heard from you in years. How are you doing?”

“As well as can be expected,” Denis replied. “I was hoping you might have a few minutes for an old protégé in the next few days. I need some advice and didn’t know who else to turn to.”

“You’re in Autun, right?” Luc asked.

“Well, not right this moment, but yes, I live in Autun,” Denis replied.

“My partner is in Dommartin, apparently,” Luc said. “I could have her pop over and pick you up on her way back tonight.”

“Your… partner?” Denis repeated. “As in a wizard partner?”

“Yes,” Luc replied. “I take it you’re aware of l’Institut Marcel Chavinier.”

“I’m actually there right now,” Denis said. “That’s part of what I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Stay right where you are,” Luc instructed. “I’ll call Magali and have her bring you home with her from l’Institut. She called to say she’d be late. Something about a wizard being attacked by a vampire.”

“I’ll fill you in when I get there,” Denis promised. “That’s a small part of what I wanted to talk to you about, one chef de la Cour to another, but mostly it’s about my… partner. Potential partner, I guess I should say.”

“This sounds like an interesting conversation,” Luc said, his amusement carrying through the connection. “Wait for Magali in the foyer of the main hall. I don’t know how long she’ll be, but I’ll remind her you can’t go out in sunlight.”

He hung up before Denis could say thank you or goodbye, but Denis was not that surprised. Luc had never been overly concerned with formality.

BOOK: Reluctant Partnerships
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