Bloodlust

Chapter Ten

Because of Paris' limited space, there are few graveyards in the tourist city. It is what led to the creation of the catacombs beneath the city, stacked high with the skulls and bones of those long dead. I always believed ghosts prowled the underground of France's burial spaces. Inexplicable winds bit at my heels and the cries of tortured souls reached out to me.

Thankfully, Thierry was never interred there.

After my less than fun meeting with Tomasz, I found Will and Niklaus, who, as he said, were meshing with the humans of Paris. I think they knew something was wrong, even without me telling them. My ashen face was a dead giveaway, I'm sure.

"Nadya? What...what happened?" Niklaus said, his voice wavering, a departure from his usually sure and arrogant tone. 

"He knows," I said dreamily, my gaze faraway. "I don't...I don't know how, but he knows. Adama, she..." I swallowed my words and snapped my eyes from whatever caught their fancy. Looking at Will, whose shoulders were tensed, I said, "You wished to know of Thierry, did you not?"

"Please, introduce us to another one of your ancient enemies," Will scoffed. "I'm sure it will end better than this meeting did. Who even was that?"

"Someone dangerous. More dangerous than I believed." I threw him a look before continuing. "There is a whole world that you have not yet discovered, boys. But before I tell you anything more, you have to meet my friend."

"Name?" Niklaus asked promptly.

I smiled. "Thierry Gerard-Toussaint."

In the present, we stand in Montparnasse cemetery, surrounded by tombs decorated with flowers and trinkets holding memories of those deceased. Thierry's grave is smooth from years of standing, his name barely legible on the stone headstone that I had commissioned before I fled Paris days after he died.

Gently kneeling in front of the stone, I trace the visible letters with my finger.

Thierry Gerard-Toussaint

"And the heavens welcomed him."

Interred: 6.08.1792

"Ah, ma Thierry," I whisper, the familiar inscription lovingly pressed into my fingertips. "It has been a long time, old friend. I am sorry I didn't come back sooner."

I stay there for a moment, murmuring to Thierry's grave, before I remember Will and Nik. Standing, I swallow back my tears as they glance at each other, clearly surprised by this development. "Ah...Nadya," Will says gently, "Thierry's....dead? Was he a human?"

I gesture behind me. "There are sometimes I think you two are on your way to being clever, but then you overlook the painfully obvious. It's like you're asking to be insulted."

"Supernatural, then?"

"A witch," I reply softly, "one of the few men chosen by the Three-Faced Mother for her service. He held the position of tête de sorcière in France's most prominent coven. I'm sure you've heard of them, at least." [translation: head witch]

"If it's not a food or a meme, I'm not sure I do," Will says cheerfully.

Niklaus groans and throws him a look. "The Aether Coven, right?"

"Yes. Aether, the material that exists in the galaxies above us. Something that...ah, it always sounded better in French." I smile humorlessly. "It's the bond between the physical and the metaphysical, I suppose. It ties witches to their magic. It's a secretive coven and to enter, you must have a specific sort of birthmark. After all, the fate of all witches rests in their hands. It's rather a big deal."

"Thanks for the science lesson, but that doesn't really explain why you hid this guy," Will says. Jesus, what crawled up his ass and died? "Who's the dear departed dude?"

Placing my hand upon the headstone, I say, "Boys, meet Thierry Gerard-Toussaint. The 78th tête de sorcière of the Aether Coven and the only boy I have ever loved."