Blood Ties

Chapter 9: The Madam

To put it simply, Francine Gauthier was furious. She stood by the large glass windows that overlooked her estate, clutching a cane in one hand that had diamonds inlaid onto the handle. Clutched in her other hand was the contract she had filled out for the death of her granddaughter, Arienne Villeneuve.

Isabella, the assassin from Paris, sat in the chair at the desk and kept her eyes trained on the ground.

As she stared out over her spanning estate, she slowly turned her cruel gaze onto the young vampire hunter. “So you let her escape," she said with her thick French accent, “And not only that, but she is with the Berry family."

Isabella flinched as madam Gauthier continued to speak. “Remind me why I am paying you and your syndicate to have my affairs taken care of?" The cane thumped heavy and hard against the wood flooring as she made her way across the room and to the large den chair that sat behind the mahogany desk.

“Speak up, hunter, " she said sharply, and Isabella finally looked up from her seat.

She was an athletic woman with pale skin decorated in scars. Her hair was short and black, and her eyes were deep brown. Her build was muscular, and she turned her mouth into a twisting frown.

“I'm sorry, Madam. I'll do better, " was Isabella's answer, short and curt and to the point.

“You will," said madam Gauthier. “You have no other choice. She fooled you with her little sob story, didn't she? i***t. Colette was my daughter's name. It's no surprise that she's going by that now."

“I'll give you one last chance to kill her. Bring her to me, or don't come back at all." Madam Gauthier took a cigarette from its box and lit it, breathing smoke in and holding it, exhaling the contents through her nose. “Now, get out." She waved her hand, and Isabella stood.

The assassin bowed her head, and quickly left the room, her own blood boiling at the way her mark had tricked her. How could she have been so naive? It was even noted in the case file that Madam Gauthier had provided that Colette was the mark 20 years prior.

“How could I have been so blind …" Isabella said, and cursed under her breath. “No matter. I'll give them an ultimatum." Either Colette would give herself over, or …

Something would happen to her little human friend, the woman with the rose red hair. She would be an easy target, and the vampires wouldn't see it coming. Isabella set out to find Rosie Duvois, fury burning underneath her skin.

She hadn't let the syndicate down since she was just a little girl, and so it stung badly that she had flubbed this job so majorly.

“You won't escape me," Isabella snarled as she got into her jet black car. “Not this time. I'll hunt you down and make you pay."

More determined than ever before, she drove out of the Gauthier estate and through the backroads of Paris' countryside.

It had been nearly a decade since she missed her target, and she hadn't suffered through the syndicate's training programs just to mess up now. Isabella was more determined than ever to find Arienne Villeneuve.

It shouldn't be hard. Not with her expertise, and her knowledge. She parked outside of a Starbucks to use their free wifi, and began to tap against her phone's surface. The last activity that “Fleur" had posted on f******k was just befriending Rosie.

But where did she live, Isabella wondered? She tapped the redhead's profile and saw her location set to Honfleur, France. That was a tiny little city, luckily for Isabella.

She began to poke around some more, making a burner account and adding Rosie as a friend, using a generic profile photo.

Rosie accepted.

From there, she scrolled through her photos until she found one of her house with the numbers blurred, but that was all Isabella needed. She set her destination to downtown Honfleur, and began the long drive to the coast.

Finding Rosie Duvois would be child's play for Isabella. It was bartering her life with Madam Gauthier that would be difficult.

Old vampires like the Madam always had backwards views of human lives; Like they were livestock, or something similar.

She almost felt bad for what she was about to do, as she began her stake-out of the Duvois house. There was a black car in the driveway, likely a rental judging by the license plate.

Isabella tapped into the nearby cell phones using an app, and saw two of them go off in the house. One belonged to Rosie, and the other, belonging to “Colette Monet."

Shit.

This was a hitch in her plans for sure. Isabella sank into her seat and simply watched for now, planning her next move. She could wait for hours, if she had to. Days, even. It didn't matter to her.

She had all the time in the world.

And if she had to incapacitate her mark, she would. There was no hesitation inside of Isabella – She knew what she had to do.

And nothing would stop her from getting that woman with the rose red hair, not even a newly awakened elite.

So she waited, and waited, and waited. When Colette finally left the house, waving at her as the sun began to set, Isabella straightened up in her seat.

She discarded a wrapper from the food she'd walked to get, and pulled her hood up over her head. It was time to go.

Rosie, none the wiser inside the house, thought nothing of the car parked across the street as she began to water her flowers, humming lightly.

Isabella approached from behind, whipped a handkerchief out of her jacket that she had laced with chloroform, and easily pressed it against the redhead's nose and mouth.

She struggled, and there was even a muffled scream before Rosie fell unconscious in her assailant's arms, going limp within minutes. Isabella hauled her up onto her shoulders and tossed her into the back seat of her car after tying her hands and feet together.

Now all that was left to do was wait. She put the car into reverse and drove off quickly, her crime going unnoticed due to how quiet it was. There were no signs of a struggle. There were no signs of an intruder.

For all intents and purposes, Rosie Duvois had vanished.

And that was just how Isabella wanted it to look. She drove back to the Gauthier house, as Rosie awoke in the backseat and began to thrash and squirm.

“What in the – who are you?!" gasped the redhead, as she tried to undo the tight rope around her wrists.

“Be quiet," Isabella snapped as the double gates to the manor opened. “You're in no position to ask me questions."

“Where are you taking me …?" She whimpered, her lip trembling as she forced herself not to cry.

“You'll find out soon enough, " answered Isabella. “And as long as you cooperate, you probably won't die."

The gates swung shut, and Isabella pulled up to the house, going back to the Madam's room to speak with her.

As Isabella returned with Madam Gauthier in tow, she heard the car door open and she was dragged out by the arms. She couldn't do anything but sit, as the Madam looked her over, catching her chin and turning her head this way, and that way.

“You're sure this will work," asked the Madam. “You're certain that my granddaughter will give herself up for this woman?"

“I'm sure, " Isabella answered. Rosie blinked slowly.

“Who are you?"

“My name," said the Madam, “is Madam Gauthier. I am the grandmother of Arienne Villeneuve. And you are my bargaining chip. Take her to a room, " she said dismissively, waving her hand.

“Don't worry. I treat my prisoners like guests, " added the Madam coldly, as Rosie was taken away by the security force.

Isabella was paid by the Madam, 3/4ths of what she was owed for not grabbing Colette herself, but her little friend would certainly make up for the loss.

Isabella tucked the money away into her wallet as she stared up at the window where they were going to keep Rosie, and for the first time in her life, she felt a small pang of guilt. But it was quickly washed away by alcohol and sleep.

Now, all the three of them could do was wait.