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BACK TO FRASER'S FRACTURED FICTION HENRY VI Part 2, act iv: scene ii (part the fifth)by A. Fraser
© Copyright 2004 A. Fraser. All rights reserved. "Remind me why I'm doing this for you, again?" Mitch requested as the private plane touched down at le Bourget airfield. It was the closest they could land to Paris in a small private plane, and Alex was fretting about the hour trip this entailed. "Because I'm paying you," Alex snapped. It was a sore point, but neither Mitch nor Gideon, upon being appealed to, had budged. Mitch's services as a pilot were valuable. This trip had cost Alex not only fuel for the plane, plus all other expenses and taxes incurred, but an extra $5,000 for Mitch's time. "And...?" Mitch prompted, enjoying himself. Alex rolled his eyes and replied, through grit teeth, "And because werewolves are way cooler than vampires." The world's only (as far as he was aware) lycanthropic pilot grinned. "Just remember that." They squeaked their way through customs "And the purpose of your visit to France?" "To find a personal item I accidentally left behind on a previous visit" and found an incredulous Jean de la Mare waiting for them with his car. "This is ridiculous, Alexandre," the French vampire protested, even as he chivvied his two guests into the car. "I don't want to hear it, Jean," Alex replied. "Just take us to the salon." "It is a casino now," Jean replied, "it has changed ownership a dozen times and has been renovated a dozen more." "It doesn't matter," Alex said. "No doubt the deed was always included in the chattels when the place changed hands." Jean and Mitch shared a look, but gave up arguing. "So, how are you, my wolf?" Jean asked. "Apart from being almost homeless?" Mitch replied. "Fine. How are things in France?" "Much the same," Jean answered. "Genevieve sends her love." "Did she have anything to say to me?" Alex demanded, jealous. "Yes," Jean replied. "But as I am a gentleman, I cannot repeat it." Alex sank back in his seat, sulking. Mitch stifled a laugh. He knew better than to think that Genevieve would have said anything that Jean would not repeat. "She called it a fool's errand," Jean gave in after a minute. "I must say, mon ami..." "No, you mustn't," Alex retorted. "It's already been said. But I have to try, don't I? It's not just my home that's in danger. I'm sure that Genevieve doesn't want Gideon or Michael to get evicted." "Of course she does not," Jean replied. "But this is not the way to prevent that." Alex said nothing. He was tired of arguing, tired of legal wrangling, tired of the whole lot of them, to tell the truth. He needed some kind of action, and nothing except going to what had been the salon and searching for the deed would satisfy the urge he felt. Finally, they arrived in Paris. Jean found a parking space near the casino and they all went inside. Alex found nothing familiar about the place at all. Gone were the small tables, gaslights, tapestry chairs, and discreet dealers. The place now was all neon lights, flashing machines, computers, and tourists. "Est-ce que je puis vous aider des messieurs?" a business-suited woman appeared from nowhere. "Est-ce que vous avez un perdu et fondez?" Alex inquired, with a slight bow. "Oui. Suivez-moi, s'il vous plaŒt." Alex bowed again, and followed the woman. Carefully concealing their looks of disbelief, Jean and Mitch followed. The woman led them to an office outside the jurisdiction of the casino proper, and inquired as to what it was they had lost. For the first time since determining this course of action, Alex hesitated. It would sound quite ridiculous to explain that he'd lost a deed to his property here back in 1815. He looked at Jean and Mitch for help, but they both had politely blank expressions on their faces. "Qu'est-ce vous ont-il perdu?" the casino employee repeated again. "A piece of paper," Alex finally replied. "A legal document. I lost it here some years ago, before the ownership of this place changed. I was hoping that any lost articles would have been passed along to the new owners." She looked doubtful, but obligingly opened the office door and unlocked a cabinet. A large box occupied most of the cabinet drawer. In it were assorted umbrellas, a beret, a high-heeled shoe, some paperbacks in at least five languages, a pocket calculator and other such items. No legal documents of any kind were in the box. "Where would anything left from previous owners have been placed, do you know?" Jean asked, taking pity on Alex's crushed look. The woman shrugged. "I am sorry," she replied. "I do not know. This place has had many owners." "It would be impossible to trace them all, I suppose?" Jean asked. She looked at him as if he was mad. "How long ago did the gentleman lose this paper?" she asked. "Longer ago than he lost his mind," Mitch replied. "Come, Alex," Jean said, putting a hand on the younger man's arm. "Let us not bother this young lady any longer." He nodded to the casino employee. "Sorry to have disturbed you, thank you for your help." Once out into the casino again, Alex shook off Jean's hand. "It's here, I tell you!" he exclaimed. He looked around wildly, trying to orient himself as if it was 189 years earlier. "The gaming tables were over there," he said, pointing. "I'm sure of it." "Well, what if they were?" Mitch asked, trying to be reasonable. "They aren't there anymore." What was "there" now was a blackjack dealer's table with its semicircle of players' chairs around it. Ignoring the werewolf, Alex stormed over to the blackjack table. The players and dealer all stared at him, as well they might a six foot, four inch, handsome man in designer clothes descending upon them like the wrath of God. "Move!" he told them, and they scattered. "Alexandre, NON!" Jean cried out, but it was too late, Alex had seized the blackjack table and ripped it out of the floor as if it was no more than matchsticks. Patrons of the casino screamed and fled into the street. Employees either ran for it or ran towards the trouble; security was descending upon them. "Help me, you two, for God's sake!" Alex yelled, ripping up floor tiles. "Oh, mon dieu," Jean exclaimed. He looked around at the frightened staff and approaching security. "Exterminators," he said. "You have cockroaches." Mitch ripped up a few floor tiles, just to be able to say he had, then he and Jean exchanged meaningful glances. Just before security reached them, they each grabbed one arm of the insane Alex and ran like hell out the door. Police cars surrounded the place; they did not attempt to reach Jean's car but instead faded back into the nearest alley. Since Alex was essentially incoherent, and Mitch did not have any mental powers per se, Jean had to do the whole "you don't see us" vampire mind control trick by himself. To do this with half the gendarmes in Paris and the entire casino staff looking for them was extremely difficult. Whistles continued to blow and sirens to wail for quite some time; it was getting dangerously near dawn. Finally, however, pursuit was called off and they risked leaving their alley and making their way to the car. It was untouched, since nobody had seen them leave it there was nothing to connect them to it. Mitch held Alex down in the back seat while Jean, white-lipped and white-knuckled, drove back to his house. "If anybody there recognized me..." he said. "They were mostly looking at Alex," Mitch replied. They hustled Alex into the house and shoved him into a room. Jean managed to find a key and locked the door. Not that this would hold a raging vampire for long, but the sun was due up shortly. "I had some food brought in," Jean told Mitch. "I would not advise you to go outside tomorrow." "Good idea," Mitch sighed. "I hope there are no security videos in that place, or I'll never be able to take off in the plane." "Merde," said Jean, feelingly. "Better watch the news tomorrow." "What on earth got into Alex?" Mitch asked. Jean shrugged. "He has never been very stable, that one," he replied. "I regret that I do not stock Valium in the house." He sighed. "Well, all we can do is wait and see what the consequences are. Good night, my wolf." "Good night, Jean." Mitch watched his host go off to bed, and decided that this would be a good thing to imitate. All hell was going to break loose the next day, but it could wait. |
