The Truth About Noussoir
Part 2. La Comtesse du Touraine
“But, Madame Comtesse, our mission was not a complete waste.”
Dame Geneviève de Sephora lay in her bath, seething with anger, the water in the tub only just hotter than the blood in her veins.
A face towel covered her eyes. She did not particularly care if Raoul was taking liberties with her nakedness. (After all, what was her beauty if not to be admired?) She was covering her eyes, since a mere glance at her slow-handed henchman would just remind of her humiliation at the hand of Suzanne du Marais. If only this Raoul had been quicker with the knife...
“How many perfectly good werewolf hunters did we lose last night?” asked the Comtesse.
“Including Georges?”
“Yes, including that liverless imbecile!”
Raoul suddenly became nauseous at the Comtesse’s choice of words. The image of George’s belly, rent open by claws and fangs as his innards—including his liver—poured out in a bloody mass, flashed in his mind.
Georges should never have panicked, Raoul repeated to himself in a mental scolding, trying to suppress the memory and the vomit that was threatening to pour into the Comtesse’s bath water.
“Well? How many?” demanded the Comtesse.
“Eh bien, cinq? Non, quatre...” Raoul replied weakly, the words exiting his throat accompanied with the taste of last night’s dinner.
“Imbécile!” the Comtesse cursed, splashing in the marble tub.
“Pardon, madame, I’m quite sure it was four...” Raoul murmured apologetically.
“He could’ve gotten us killed!” continued the Comtesse without hearing his words.
Raoul took a moment before he realized the Comtesse was still talking about poor Georges. Still, Raoul’s face was flushed, because of the steam, the hot water splashed on his face, his embarrassment and tension, and the torrid heat he felt from being in the presence of a bathing naked beauty.
“You were saying something, Raoul?” snapped the Comtesse.
“Pardon, madame, je... je...”
“About our mission,” reminded the Comtesse impatiently.
“Ah! Oui, madame! I have this to show you.”
The Comtesse sat up from her bath and removed the towel covering her eyes. She made no attempt at modesty to hide what was not hidden by the water.
“What is it, Raoul?”
Raoul swallowed hard and tried to maintain his decorum, before he took out what he came to present the Comtesse in the first place.
“What is it? Where did you get—? How long has it—?” Her thoughts were racing so fast that her words could not follow.
“From last night, madame... at the sick bed, there was this...” Raoul tried to explain.
“Why didn’t you tell me sooner? I must get to my laboratory at once!”
All at once, the Comtesse stood up from her bath and hastily stepped out to get dressed.
Raoul was weak in the knees, and almost dropped his prize on the wet floor.
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
Part 6
Part 7
Part 8
Epilogue
