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Authors: Ariel Tachna

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“My understanding is that he was pretty vehemently opposed to l’Institut,” Adèle said as she wrote Renaud’s name at the bottom of her list. “Could he have something to do with this?”

“I suppose it’s possible,” Denis said, “but I don’t see any connection between l’Institut and turning that poor woman against her will. Certainly Renaud didn’t want l’Institut in Dommartin and would have been happy not to have it exist anywhere, but he lost that battle when he lost the Cour because of his attitude. I haven’t seen him since he lost our fight, so I don’t even know if he’s still in the area.”

“Could he still be in the area without your knowledge?” Adèle asked.

“I’m sure he could be,” Denis replied. “Being chef de la Cour doesn’t give me some magical ability to sense other vampires. It’s somewhere between an elected position and a military one. I won my role by force and hold it through a combination of guile and strength, but I was the one who fought Renaud by the will of the other members of the Cour. As long as Renaud didn’t do anything to draw attention to himself, he could be next door and I wouldn’t know it.”

“And I can’t do a seeking spell on him without his blood, so that’s no help,” Adèle said, thinking of the challenges they had faced in creating repères for the vampires during the war, when everyone had carried a link to the locator map with them while on duty. “If you see him, I’d like to speak with him. Now what about the others on the list? Do you know of any reason why any of them would attack someone the way Pascale was attacked?”

Denis examined the list. “Auguste is a crotchety old vampire with more opinions than sense sometimes, but he seemed far more concerned with protecting the Cour and our new rights than with defending himself. Well, that and not involving mortals in vampire business, but he came around to the realization that he couldn’t have his rights and no involvement with mortals at the same time. The others live largely in retirement except to hunt. I suppose Pascale’s turning could have been a hunting accident, but a vampire of this age should have had the sense and the experience to stop before that happened, and a newly turned vampire wouldn’t have had the right accent. I’m sorry I’m not more help.”

“I appreciate you taking the time you have,” Adèle replied. “I may be back with more questions as I try to narrow down my list of suspects further. For all we know, it wasn’t a local vampire who did this.”

Chapter 11

 

 

T
WO
days later, Denis arrived at l’Institut for a meeting with Jean and Raymond to discuss the legislative options and to make a plan for the public relations nightmare that was sure to follow.

He nodded his thanks to Alain as he walked into Jean and Raymond’s office, surprised to see a third person already there, someone he did not know.

“Bonsoir, Denis,” Raymond said, offering his hand. He had learned not to expect either of the vampires to speak first. If one of them had not been a chef de la Cour, that one would have unbent enough to acknowledge the other’s presence without prompting, but between two chefs de la Cour, even allied ones, that tension never fully went away. “I don’t believe you’ve met Martin yet.”

“No, I haven’t,” Denis said, turning his attention to the third occupant of the room. The man rose and offered his hand as well. Denis took it, his gaze raking over the other man’s body. They were of a height, a little less than two meters, but Martin was considerably broader through the shoulders than Denis, a man’s body rather than the body of a nineteen-year-old boy. Denis might have lived more than a man’s lifetime, but his body had not aged since his changing on the battlefields of Amiens. Laughing hazel eyes topped Martin’s high cheekbones and narrow chin, bringing a matching smile to Denis’s lips. “Denis Langlois, chef de la Cour d’Autun.”

“Martin Delacroix,” Martin said. “I’m on sabbatical from Canada for the year.”

Another wizard, then
, Denis thought, not sure he wanted yet another wizard in his life. This one, though, stirred something in him he had not felt since Noël died. “Enchantée,” Denis said, the word more than merely lip service for once. “What will you be doing here at l’Institut?”

“That’s what I was just discussing with Raymond and Jean,” Martin answered. “I’m a researcher as well and fascinated by the partnerships. Do you have a partner?”

“I haven’t been fortunate enough to find one yet,” Denis replied, glossing over the fact that he had made no real effort to find one either. He thought he saw amusement on Jean’s and Raymond’s faces, but he ignored them. He had fed from his share of mortals since Noël’s death, but he had not felt this immediate resonance with another person since the moment he first laid eyes on the man who became his lover until age and infirmity stole him away. If Jean and Raymond chose to find amusement in his reaction, Denis would point out their own obvious infatuation with each other in reply. People in glass houses…. “What about you?”

“I’m not looking for a partner,” Martin said immediately. “I’m only here for a year. If I did find a partner, I’d want it to be with a Canadian vampire. I’ve enjoyed my few days here so far, but Montréal is home. That said, I find the idea of the partnerships fascinating. To be so much the center of each other’s worlds and to create such a symbiotic relationship is something most people can only dream of, no matter what they purport to feel for each other. But you came for business, not to listen to me wax poetic on a subject I’m only beginning to explore. I should leave you three to talk.”

“Please stay,” Denis said. “As an outsider, you might have some insight we’ll miss because we’re so caught up in the situation.”

“If you’re sure,” Martin said, glancing at Raymond and Jean, who nodded their agreement. He returned to his seat, his eyes following Denis despite himself. The vampire was striking, as much for the dichotomy between his apparent youth and his commanding presence as for his looks, though with his short dark hair slicked back from his forehead, his appearance was striking as well. It was his eyes that held Martin’s attention, though, his gaze laser sharp as he focused on the matter that had brought him to l’Institut.

“I met with my Cour,” Denis began. “They’re understandably concerned and not entirely convinced our policy of denouncing the
extorris
will work, but no one challenged the banishment of the man, whoever he is.”

“I met with mine as well,” Jean replied, “to much the same reaction, although the Parisian vampires are somewhat more used to following my lead than perhaps yours are.”

Denis laughed. “I would imagine that’s very true, since the vampires in Autun have had only six months to accept my leadership. Even if I were your age, they wouldn’t be used to me yet. At my age, half of them are still convinced it was a mistake to send me to face Renaud. What about the legislation? Have you made any progress on that?”

“We met with Anne-Marie Valour, the new president of l’ANS, and her staff,” Raymond replied. “They are drafting a proposed bill to make nonconsensual turning a crime on the same level as aggravated rape. Obviously in Pascale’s case, there was no sexual contact, but the attack on her was penetrative, and the consequences as serious or worse than the consequences of a rape. The law requests double the time of incarceration, since as a vampire, the perpetrator would have a much longer lifespan and so twenty years would be relatively little, but the staff warned us we might have to compromise on that aspect.”

“As long as it’s a crime, I’m less concerned about the penalty,” Denis said. “Our problem right now is being able to cast the
extorris
as a criminal. We can find his behavior abhorrent, but being able to point out that we proposed legislation to make his actions a crime will go a long way toward proving our point.”

“What penalty would he face under vampire law?” Martin interrupted. “I don’t know the word
extorris
, but it’s obviously a term in vampire society for someone who has passed outside the norms of accepted behavior. So what would happen to him if vampires judged him?”

“Vampires see it from a different perspective,” Denis replied. “He isn’t
extorris
because he turned Pascale, even against her will. He’s
extorris
because he abandoned her. If Detective Rougier hadn’t found her, she would have been destroyed, and that constitutes harming another vampire, which is against all the tenets of vampire society.”

“That doesn’t answer my question,” Martin asked. “What penalty would he face?”

“Given that Detective Rougier did find her in time, probably banishment from the Cour,” Denis replied. “The three outcomes of a
judicium
, a vampire trial, are banishment, incarceration, or extinction. If she had not survived, he would certainly have been sentenced to extinction as well. And before you say it, I know banishment doesn’t sound like much of a consequence, but while vampires are not a communal race the way a werewolf pack is, we do rely on the Cour for our livelihoods. That’s changing somewhat now that we are more integrated into French society, but being excluded from vampire society often resulted in a vampire being destroyed either because he was caught or because he no longer had a place to seek refuge from the sun.”

“And before you decide that’s too harsh a punishment,” Jean added, “we lived in fear for millennia of being found and destroyed by the mortals around us. A vampire who endangers that cannot be allowed around other vampires. We agreed when the antidiscrimination legislation passed two years ago to honor French law now, so the label of
extorris
is more about communicating our opinion on the situation to the Cours than it is a judgment. There will be no
judicium
for this vampire. He will face his crimes under French law.”

“Is that good or bad?”

Denis shrugged. “Some of both, probably. The threat of extinction is gone, since France doesn’t have the death penalty, but the advantages to vampire society as a whole make that threat less of an issue now. In theory, anyway, we don’t have to worry about one person’s bad judgment leading to racial cleansing like we used to fear. As long as the antidiscrimination legislation holds.”

“Do you really think it won’t?” Martin asked.

“I think it will,” Denis said, “but I also think we’re in for some rough times if we don’t catch this guy quickly. There’s a difference between equal rights on paper and in the way people act, and for people who weren’t in Paris during the war, the assistance the vampires gave isn’t nearly as obvious. When the legislation passed, I heard people in Autun wondering what the big deal was because Autun is small enough that Serrier didn’t ever attack there. If we can spin it well, we should be safe, but if panic sets in, I wouldn’t bet on it.”

“You know you and your Cour are always welcome here,” Raymond offered, “should it come to that. Adèle’s wards will hold, and there are always wizards here to shore them up if they start to give. It might be a little crowded depending on how widespread the panic grows, but we can squeeze a lot of people into the different buildings if we have to.”

“Merci,” Denis said with a nod of his head. “I hope it won’t come to that, but it’s nice to know the option exists should we need it. Have you given any more thought to a public relations campaign?”

“A little,” Jean said, “but the introduction of the legislation should be the first step unless word somehow gets out before that. We want to start strong, showing we’re already dealing with the situation instead of simply talking about it.”

“Do you have a timeline for the bill being introduced?” Denis asked.

“Hopefully within a couple of weeks,” Jean said. “It’s been almost a week since Pascale was turned, and there haven’t been any other attacks, at least not that have come to our attention. As long as it’s an isolated case, there isn’t any rush. We’ll propose the legislation without even mentioning her and let it go at that. If it comes to light or if there are additional attacks, then we can start defending ourselves.”

“If you think that’s best,” Denis agreed, the unease he felt at being surrounded by wizards finally pushing him to withdraw. “Could someone take me home?”

“I haven’t been to your house, so I can’t take you all the way there,” Martin volunteered before Raymond could speak, “but I can take you to Autun at least. And if you’ll show me where you live, I’ll be able to help in the future. Since I’ll be on staff here for a year, I should get familiar enough to help out with everything I can, not just my research.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Raymond said.

“I know, but I’d like to,” Martin replied. “It’ll do me good to go for a walk.” He rose and checked to make sure he had his wand. “If you don’t mind, that is, Denis.”

“One wizard’s magic is the same as another’s,” Denis said, though he looked forward to having a moment to talk to Martin alone.

“Until you find your partner,” Jean said with an indulgent smile. “And then you discover how very different one wizard’s magic can be. Ask any partnered vampire if you don’t believe me.”

Denis resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He had no doubt Jean was right. Every partnered vampire he had talked to confirmed it to greater or lesser degree. But that did not mean Denis wanted the experience for himself, not when it risked becoming so all-consuming. Jean was already well established in his Cour and among the other chefs de la Cour. Denis had more pressing concerns than searching for a partner who might or might not exist and then trying to navigate the shoals of a new relationship even more fraught for the magical symbiosis that seemed to push the two partners together with nearly irresistible force.

“Shall we go?” Martin asked.

The four men walked outside to the open courtyard. The walls would not keep the magic from passing through, but Raymond had noticed on more than one occasion how much that seemed to disconcert many of the vampires. He had made it a habit to go outside unless the situation was urgent or the vampire with him was one he knew well. Martin cast the displacement spell, disappearing instantly, but Denis remained in the courtyard.

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