Perilous Partnership (38 page)

“Complaining about l‟Institut being in le Morvan in the first place or worrying about whether other vampires have relationships with mortals is just as petty,” Thierry pointed out. “So the vampire in Autun is one option. Then there are the protestors in Paris and the Front National, since they‟ve made their opinions quite clear.”

“But their protests so far have been all about getting media attention,”

Raymond disagreed. “The media will never hear about this because we‟ll have it cleaned up as soon as Adèle finishes her investigation.”

“Yes, they want media attention,” Thierry said, “but they also want our attention, and they haven‟t been getting it. Since they haven‟t said anything new, we haven‟t either. Whatever we say or don‟t say to the media about the vandalism, it‟s forced us to react, and that‟s what they want. If we leave it, their message stays visible. If we clean it up, we acknowledge that somebody did this. Either way, they get attention. Serrier started out this way too.”

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“I remember,” Raymond said with a frown. “Would the Front National know how to find us here, though? We haven‟t exactly been open about the location of l‟Institut.”

“No, we haven‟t, but it isn‟t a huge secret either,” Thierry said, “and we‟ve garnered enough attention from the local population that if someone asked where we were located, people would know and not have any reason to keep it a secret.”

“It wouldn‟t hurt to ask Eric and Vincent again if they can think of anyone we might have missed, maybe someone who supported Serrier‟s campaign financially but not physically, someone who wouldn‟t have broken the law necessarily but might still be around to spew his hatred,” Raymond suggested.

“Ask Eric,” Thierry agreed. “Leave Vincent out of it if you can. He‟s still very sensitive about having been on the other side of the war.”

“I‟m in no position to cast stones,” Raymond reminded Thierry. “His scar might be in a different place than mine, but I bear the same mark of shame.”

“Yeah, but you got out a hell of a lot earlier than he did, and you didn‟t capture Orlando,” Thierry said bluntly. “I‟ve worked with him enough to know he‟s a good guy and that his change of heart was genuine, but you dealt with people‟s prejudice—mine included—for two years. You know how hard that is.”

“I‟m fortunate people have seen past it now,” Raymond agreed.

“Seen how blind and stupid we were, you mean?” Thierry joked. “Don‟t deny it. We were. At least I was. Vincent would probably be less bothered by you talking to him than by any of the rest of us bringing it up, but every time anyone says anything about the war or the alliance, he flinches. He‟s fine with current stuff, with Sebastien being my partner, with Luc and Magali being around, as long as nobody mentions the war or anything that transpired then.

I‟d just hate for him to feel we‟re only using him for his knowledge.”

“Particularly since we really are using Vincent for his affinity to earth,”

Raymond said with a smile. “All right, I‟ll talk to Eric. If he doesn‟t know, maybe he‟d be willing to ask Vincent in my place. That way, at least, Vincent wouldn‟t have to deal with me directly in that regard. Any other avenues you think we should consider?”

“You told me the town council of Dommartin wasn‟t terribly happy when you first went to meet with them. Could they have anything to do with this? Not directly, probably. I mean, they‟re probably all in their sixties, and I don‟t see them coming out to spray graffiti all over our walls, but could their influence have caused some of the local youth to decide to do it?”

“The local youth all work here at this point,” Raymond laughed.

“Dommartin is a town of two hundred people, and we probably employ fifty of

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them at the moment, between the cleaning, the cooking, the repairs, and the landscaping, and Angelique has probably hired another twenty to do the same at the branch of Sang Froid she‟s opening. The town fathers may not approve of us, but I don‟t see them doing anything that would rock the boat and make us reconsider our decision to locate l‟Institut here.”

A knock on the door interrupted their conversation. “Come in,” Raymond called.

“Nice graffiti you‟ve got out there,” Adèle said, coming inside and shaking both men‟s hands. On another day, she would have kissed their cheeks, but she was here on business now.

“Did you see anything other than the obvious?” Raymond asked.

“Somebody can‟t spell,” Adèle said with a shake of her head. “Your tagger spelled „fous‟ wrong in „fous le camp‟. Other than that, there isn‟t really anything to see. The ground is too frozen for there to be footprints. They didn‟t leave the paint cans, so there aren‟t fingerprints.”

“Does that tell us anything?” Raymond inquired.

“Only that it probably isn‟t the first time your tagger has done this, but that‟s not really any guarantee either,” Adèle said. “They could be environmentally conscious, or they could watch enough cop shows to know not to leave anything behind. For all we shake our heads at stupid criminals, there are plenty out there who aren‟t dumb.”

“So what do we do now?” Thierry asked.

“That‟s up to you, but as far as an official investigation, there‟s really nothing we can do,” Adèle replied. “I can make all the suggestions about installing security cameras and that sort of thing, but you have to decide if it‟s worth that kind of expense, because with a complex this big, it won‟t be a cheap system.”

“So what does the wizard suggest if the cop‟s hands are tied?” Raymond said, knowing all about the juggling of roles that Adèle faced.

“The first thing is definitely to change the wards,” Adèle said. “I can move them back from the building, and I can make them somewhat thicker, but I‟m not sure it‟s responsible on our part to make them so thick nothing can get through.”

“Not to mention that we want certain people to be able to get through,”

Thierry added. “The people who work here, the people coming for the seminars, deliveries.”

“It‟s a delicate balance,” Raymond agreed. “Let‟s start by leaving the wards on their current level of exclusion but moving them out from the walls so that random people can‟t get close enough to tag or otherwise damage the walls.”

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“You know, this raises the question of whether the collapse a couple of months ago was natural or whether it had help too,” Thierry said.

“There‟s no way to tell now,” Adèle said. “With all the repairs completed on both a physical and a magical level, any evidence would be long gone. We‟ll just have to keep a closer watch now that we know somebody is targeting l‟Institut.”

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“ARE you sure you can handle everything while we‟re gone?” Raymond asked one last time as he signed the last of the papers that required his signature before he and Jean left for the airport for their trip to La Réunion. Alain, Thierry, and Fabienne had assured him repeatedly that they could keep things running while he was gone, but the vandalism had left him far less certain of his decision.

“Yes!” Fabienne, Thierry, and Alain answered in a resounding chorus.

“Get out of here or you‟re going to miss your flight,” Alain added. “We‟ll see you in a week.”

“It‟s only four days,” Raymond replied automatically. “I‟ll be back at work on Tuesday.”

The other three looked at each other in amusement at Raymond‟s assurance that he would be back at work after a ten-hour overnight flight, but they left him his delusions. “Go,” Fabienne insisted. “Take your suitcase and work your magic. Jean will be thinking you changed your mind.”

“No, I told him I had a few things to take care of before we left,” Raymond said. “He‟s not expecting me for another half an hour.”

“So surprise him by being early,” Thierry said. “Just go or I‟ll send you myself.”

Raymond huffed, but he grabbed his suitcase and cast a displacement spell, arriving outside the airport where he would not cause too much commotion with his arrival. He checked in quickly and made his way to the gate, finding Jean sitting there already, a cup of coffee and a newspaper in hand, looking for all the world like a casual traveler. “Ready for our escape?” Raymond whispered, coming up behind his lover.

“Now that you‟re here, I am,” Jean replied, turning his head and kissing Raymond gently. “It wouldn‟t have been any fun going without you.”

“I told you I was going with you,” Raymond said defensively. “I keep my promises.”

“I know you do,” Jean said, pulling Raymond around to sit next to him, “but I also know things come up sometimes that are out of your control. You‟re

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here now, though, and that‟s all that matters. We‟ll go away for a few days, relax, recharge, and come back ready to tackle the world and all its problems.”

Raymond smiled. “I like the sound of having nothing to do all day but sit on the beach soaking up the sun and nothing to do all night but lying in bed with you while you drive me wild.”

“That sounds like heaven on earth,” Jean agreed. “They‟re calling our flight.”

Jean surprised Raymond by getting up when they called for first class to board. “First class?” Raymond asked. “But—”

“But nothing,” Jean said. “I can afford it, and it‟s our first vacation together. I wanted us to be comfortable. It‟s a long flight. When was the last time you flew anywhere coach, much less for ten hours?” Raymond had no answer to that. “Come on. Let‟s get settled,” Jean added.

They boarded and took their seats, greeting the stewardess who hovered in their section of the aircraft. Jean declined any beverages, but Raymond accepted a glass of wine, rationalizing that he needed to start unwinding and a decent glass of wine was the perfect way to start. “Don‟t drink too much,” Jean whispered in his ear after the stewardess had gone on to other passengers. “I want to taste you when I follow you into the lavatory later in the flight, not the alcohol from the wine.”

“Jean!”

“What?” Jean said with an innocent look on his face. “Everyone else will get a meal on the flight. Why shouldn‟t I get one too?”

“Because if you feed from me, even if you don‟t touch me except that, it will make me come,” Raymond hissed.

Jean grinned. “And this would be a bad thing why?”

“Because everyone will hear and know what we‟re doing.”

“But they won‟t know,” Jean teased. “They‟ll think we‟re making love when all I‟m doing is making sure I‟m safe when we land tomorrow.”

Raymond glared at his lover. “Like that‟s any better. Besides, you make love to me every time you feed. You have since the last time we were on La Réunion together.”

Jean chuckled. “Back when you were still pretending you could resist me.”

He could joke about it now, knowing Raymond loved him, but the first time he had dared to bite Raymond‟s neck had been anything but a laughing matter. He could still remember how hard his pulse had pounded as he bit that tender flesh for the first time, having always fed from Raymond‟s wrist before that day.

“I wasn‟t pretending. I didn‟t want to give in. And then you bit me so carefully and yet so passionately. You were feeding, and yet it was all about my

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pleasure, not your hunger, and I was lost. I wasn‟t ready to admit it then, but that was the moment you won my heart.”

“You weren‟t ready to admit it until a couple of months ago.”

“Not out loud,” Raymond agreed, “but I‟d admitted it to myself by the time Marcel asked me to take over l‟ANS. I didn‟t think you‟d want to be saddled with a reformed dark wizard as a lover. You have to remember I can‟t read your emotions the way you can mine.”

That would change if Raymond agreed to form an Aveu de Sang. Sitting on an airplane taxiing toward the runway was not the time to bring that up, though.

“Once we‟re airborne and can get up, go to the lavatory on the right, but don‟t lock the door,” Jean said instead, nipping at Raymond‟s ear as he leaned close. “I‟ll join you after a moment so I can have my evening snack.”

“Everyone will hear.”

“What do you care? No one knows who we are. If you‟re really that worried, put up a silencing spell so the noise doesn‟t penetrate the walls. I know you can do it. You had one in your office at the Milice,” Jean suggested.

Raymond grumbled more for form‟s sake than anything else; the thought of Jean feeding from him—not to mention doing who knew what else to him—in the lavatory had undeniable appeal. He simply had to be daring enough to allow it to happen.

The jet‟s engines roared to life as they took off, pressing Raymond back into the seat. With each second that passed, his stomach tightened more at the thought of getting up and going to the lavatory, knowing Jean would join him and knowing what would happen once the door closed behind him. Putain, he was so hard purely from thinking about it that he would probably come the minute Jean‟s fangs touched his skin. He squirmed in his seat, trying to hide his discomfort. He should have known better.

“Are you getting hard?” Jean whispered in his ear. “Are you thinking about what we‟re going to do and wishing we could start right now?”

“Yes,” Raymond groaned, Jean‟s breath on his skin sending shivers through his body. “How do you do this to me? How do you make me want you even when I know I shouldn‟t?”