Chapter Six
MINA
The train had barely left the station, but second thoughts already clouded my mind. What the hell was I doing? Had I just thrown the baby out with the bathwater? And, yikes — hosting the police championships?
But it was too late now, because I’d already called Clem to confirm the event, driven to nearby Auxerre and hopped on the train to Paris. For once, no one was on strike and the train wasn’t delayed, so I had less than two hours to figure out what to do when I arrived.
Mostly, though, I stared out the window and wondered what I would someday feel, looking back on what was sure to be a pivotal (low) point in my life.
The moment I’d turned my back on a group of sketchy but lovable supernaturals.
A group I also counted on as a work force and as boarders whose rent offset renovation costs.
Then I remembered how close one of those supernaturals had come to killing me. Clearly, it was time for a change in the company I’d been keeping.
Even if it cost me friendships? Or worse — the chateau?
My emotions swung back and forth, back and forth.
Plan, dammit. Need a plan, I ordered myself.
The school I’d worked in taught students to break projects into phases: setting goals, planning, taking action, and reflecting.
I nearly started with reflecting, though. How had my life brought me to this point anyway?
But that wasn’t too helpful, so I focused on goals. What were mine here?
Recalibrating my moral compass placed high on the list. Next came visiting my godfather to confirm whether he really ran a crime syndicate on the side or whether this had all been one big misunderstanding.
The train screeched around a corner as if to say, Fat chance, sweetheart.
Goal number three was to find Marius and do what he hadn’t had the balls to do: face him and declare eternal love…or say goodbye forever.
My lips wobbled as I gazed out the window.
The regional train followed the curves of the Yonne River, and I watched as we rattled past boats, locks, and vineyards, wishing I could trade my life for that of a cargo ship captain, lockkeeper, or winegrower.
I even found myself wondering how their workloads compared to renovating a crumbling chateau.
Gradually, the open, undulating terrain of Burgundy gave way to more densely populated areas, and soon, we were rushing through the outskirts of Paris.
So, goals — check. Now, I had to figure out a plan and execute it.
But boy, was that the hard part.
All too soon, the train pulled into Gare de Lyon, and passengers spilled out onto the platforms, then the street. I joined them, carried by a human wave. Outside, I zipped my jacket against the fall chill. The Métro could whisk me to Gordon’s place in a few stops, but I procrastinated by walking.
On the sidewalk, couples embraced and businesspeople hurried to meetings.
“Taxi?” a driver asked.
I turned him down, but a couple of luggage-laden tourists accepted happily.
Cars beeped, and shop windows lured with eye-catching displays.
A fashion shop here, a bakery there, plus the ubiquitous bookshops.
I could have been blindfolded and had my ears plugged, and I would still have known this was Paris.
The city’s unique vibe pulsed all around me, making me feel more like a country mouse than ever.
The feeling grew until I found myself standing across from Gordon’s building, where I steeled myself to walk over.
The door to a nearby café burst open, and I turned.
Every cell in my body tingled, first in joy, then in warning.
Marius! I nearly cried as he stormed out.
The air around him crackled with menacing energy. His strides pounded the pavement, and his fists were tightly balled.
I frowned. Wait. Roux said Marius had gone off on his own agenda, risking Gordon’s wrath and the future of the entire unit. So what was Marius doing so close to Gordon’s home?
My poor, hopeful heart almost beat itself into bursting, and only the lump in my throat kept me from calling out.
A good thing, too, because the door opened a second time, and Celeste emerged.
Yes, Celeste, the scheming succubus who’d once seduced Marius, as he’d admitted in a gut-wrenching heart-to-heart we’d had after returning from Mallorca.
I hated the idea of the two of them together, but I could hardly feel betrayed since Marius hadn’t known me back then.
Also, I’d witnessed the aftermath of her seductive powers on Henrik.
The vampire and Marius were just two of countless men whose lives and emotions Celeste had taken a wrecking ball to just for the fun of it.
Worse, Celeste worked for Gordon — by choice, unlike Marius, Roux, Henrik, and Bene.
“Marius!” she called.
He spun, a tornado hovering over one spot, ready to obliterate everything.
I ducked behind a tree and peeked out.
Celeste walked toward Marius, swaying her curvy hips with every step. Marius folded his arms over his chest, his face a mask of fury.
I couldn’t hear what she said, but Marius barked a few words, then stalked away.
Celeste’s mocking laugh followed him, but her pinched expression said things hadn’t gone her way.
Her sheer black dress and dark hair rippled in the breeze, and a passing deliveryman stared at her long enough to make his moped swerve.
She turned, flashing him a wide, lusty smile.
Then she strutted up the stairs and disappeared into Gordon’s building.
My mind spun as I stood rooted to the ground. Now what?
I’d planned to drop in on Gordon unannounced, but I sure as hell wasn’t going near Celeste. Besides, I knew how to find my godfather. Marius, on the other hand…
I darted from one tree to the next, following him. A good thing I ran most mornings, because Marius’s long strides carried him to the end of the block in no time. The light changed just as I got there, and I sprinted across as drivers beeped and gesticulated.
I gestured back. I had a dragon to catch, dammit!
Marius strode on, a tsunami looking for a shore to decimate. Nearly a block later, I caught up and tapped on his shoulder.
Bad idea, because catching a tightly wound dragon off guard was downright terrifying. Fire blazed in his eyes, and he drew back a fist, ready to punch.
“Hello, Marius,” I said, forcing the jitter out of my voice.
His lips parted in shock, and I had to battle the overwhelming urge to kiss him.
“Mina,” he whispered.
His eyes bored into mine, going warm and fluid. Then he jolted a little, grabbed my shoulder, and hustled me into a side alley.
“What are y—” I started.
He stuck up a hand, and his eyes darted around, checking the area for…Celeste? Gordon? A gunman itching to spray the neighborhood with bullets?
He scrutinized our surroundings before gritting his teeth and looking at me.
And, oh.
Time slowed, and my heart beat so hard, I was sure he could hear it. His eyes continued to blaze, but the furious hue turned into something warm and yearning. I rolled onto my toes, fixated on his lips, and—
Everything that had happened in the past few days rushed into the forefront of my mind, and I raised my fist, then hesitated.
“Go ahead,” he said gruffly. “I deserve it.”
Did he? And was this really the best way to communicate?
“No, you don’t.” I lowered my hand and looked up at him.
I must have caught us both off guard, because I found myself staring deep into his unguarded soul — and into a pool of hope, joy, and yearning.
Marius loved me. He wanted me. He wanted forever. But a jungle of long, creeping vines surrounded that pool, locking it in a tangle of danger and complications.
Then he blinked — or maybe I did — and his inner shutters came crashing down again.
I swayed on my feet, as I often did after one of those brushed-by-moonlight moments when the magic of one of my ancestors welled up in me — in this case, the ability to secretly peer into a person’s soul.
“Dammit, Mina…” He checked the area again, searched for words, then gave up, and went for a totally unexpected alternative.
A hug. A fierce, powerful dragon hug that nearly cut off my circulation. I ended up pressed hard against his chest, seeing, smelling, sensing nothing but him.
It was heaven.
I worked my arms around his broad torso, feeling like I’d found a treasure trove along with absolute, total certainly that everything would be all right as long as I stayed put. No one could bother us, and the future would be bountiful and glorious.
He was mine, and I was his. It was that simple.
Except it wasn’t, and I knew it. Something stood between us — something as big and looming as the Eiffel Tower.
Slowly, I pulled back, gently stroking his cheek. Marius closed his eyes and leaned in, just as he had all those mornings we’d spent in bed together. Then his throat bobbed, and he took a deep breath, looking around.
“God, Mina. What are you doing here?”
I wove my fingers through his. “Looking for you.”
He sighed as if I’d said, Looking for trouble. Then he shook his head. “You can’t be here.”
“And yet, here I am.”
Another shake of the head. “It’s too dangerous.”
It wasn’t Paris. It was something else. But what exactly?
I stuck a finger at his chest. “You might be ready to give up on us, but I’m not.”
He gritted his teeth. “I’m not giving up. I’m just trying to keep you safe.”
“By not telling me anything?”
He glanced behind me, and I leaned out to look. Was he worried about someone after me or after him?
More furtive looks around the alley. “I can’t explain. Not here. Not now.”
Not ever? I wondered.
He dragged his hands through his hair, warring with himself, then spoke.
“Meet me tonight. At the Jaurès metro station — line 2, above ground. You know it?”
I gulped but nodded.
“Wait for me on the Porte Dauphine side of the platform. Don’t bring your phone, and make sure you’re not being followed,” he continued.
My stomach flipped. Things were that bad, huh?
“Nine thirty. Don’t come early,” he grunted.
Ha. The man knew me too well.
When he looked at me expectantly, I echoed his instructions. “Jaurès metro station, line 2, Porte Dauphine side.” Then I tapped his chest. “Swear to me you’ll come. Swear it.”
“I’ll be there.”
His eyes didn’t quite meet mine, though, so I wrapped my hands around his face, forcing them to. “Do not let me down. You got that?”
He flashed a little smile. Apparently fierce Mina was his favorite version.
“I’ll be there,” he swore, then cocked his head. “Where will you go in the meantime?”
I pointed in the direction we’d come from. “I have to visit Gordon.”
His eyes flashed. “Why?”
I made a face. “He asked Gen for a favor, but she’s been delayed—”
“Again?” he cut in.
I sighed. “Again.”
“What’s the favor?”
“To meet someone.”
His eyes narrowed. “Who?”
“I don’t know. That’s why I have to see him. That way, we can communicate. You know, communicate?”
“What people say and what they want or mean can be two different things,” he warned.
Oh yes. I’d definitely gotten a crash course in that in recent weeks.
“Well, the best way to recognize the difference is observing them in person,” I retorted. Then I softened. “Believe me, I don’t plan to do anything dangerous. But I need to see Gordon.”
He scowled, then checked his watch. “Wait an hour. I could only risk coming close to his place because he was out. Celeste was the only one there, and she should be leaving soon.”
“Ah, yes. Celeste,” I said dryly. “I’d like to know about that too.”
“Know what?”
“Know why you’re talking to her and not me.”
“It’s not like that, Mina. I swear.” He looked around, then shook his head. “I’ll explain later.”
“Gonna be a long meeting,” I muttered.
He ignored that in favor of a final warning. “Whatever you do, don’t tell Gordon anything.”
I rolled my eyes. Like I need a reminder.
“I mean it,” Marius emphasized. “Including the fact that you saw me.”
Grabbing my hand, he stalked toward the corner of the main road, towing me along before raising a fist to signal stop the way commandos did in movies.
Boy, had I fallen in love with the wrong person.
The right person, a voice in the back of my mind insisted.
“All right.” He gestured. “Cross the street. I’ll follow at a distance. Take the next metro three stops, then backtrack. Watch for anyone who looks suspicious.”
At this rate, that meant everyone in Paris. I was that on edge.
“Keep a low profile all evening, and don’t come to the meeting point directly,” he said.
Then he squeezed my hand, popped a kiss on my cheek, and gave me a little nudge toward the street. A good thing, too. Otherwise, I might never have pried myself away from him.
“Be careful,” he finished ominously.
“And you be there,” I insisted. “At our meeting point, I mean.”
He nodded, then gestured me onward.
Every step I took felt like I was wading deeper and deeper into mud, but I forced myself to go. When I reached the metro stop a few blocks later, I glanced back, but there was no sign of him. No sign that he’d ever been with me either, except for the tingling spot on my cheek.