“What does all that mean?”
“I don’t know, I’m sorry. Believe me, I wish my visions came with a Wikipedia entry.”
“And these visions are from the future? Not the past?”
Dora nods.
I step back, my mind reeling.
I’m holding the collar.
But that can’t possibly be true. Unless…
Unless the collar has survived.
Unless I find it and bring it to Arabella.
I can undo all that went wrong between us.
There’s no gesture grander than that.
My vampiric heart skips its languid beat. I grab Dora by the shoulders and kiss her square on the lips. “Dora, you are a marvel. I will write sonnets in your honour. I will name a dinosaur after you. I will build a statue to your brilliance—”
“Yes, yes, I’m glad you’re so happy, given the amount of blood I’ve described. I forgot that vampireslikeblood. Just don’t ask Alaric to carve the statue.” Dora wriggles out of my grip and smooths down her sweater. “Winnie tells me he tossed another finished sculpture off the Black Crag parapet last night. Apparently, the pinkie finger had a microscopic chip.”
I roll my eyes. “I swear, if he didn’t have such a glorious arse, I’d have ended my friendship with that infuriating man a century ago.”
“That’s a lie and you know it. And Gideon?” Dora stares at her shoes. “Don’t tell anyone where you got this vision. I can’t have word getting out that I can…”
Her shoulders tense. I realise what she’s not telling me.
Mike doesn’t know.
I think about her husband’s reddened face as he yelled at her in front of everyone. If he’s that threatened by his wife dancing and having funwith her girlfriends, then what would he be like if he found out Dora sees visions of the future?
My fingers ball into a fist. If there’s one thing I can’t stand, it’s any clothing made from polyester (natural fibre or naked, I always say). But a second thing I can’t stand is weak, insecure men who bully and intimidate women because they want everything on their terms. I saw them every day on the streets and in the cabarets of Paris. I worked for one of them for far too long.
In my worst, darkest days, I fear I’ve become one of them.
As much as I want to put Alaric’s testicle-severing sword to good use, I will not lift a finger against Mike until Dora asks. Butwhenshe asks (and I’m certain it’swhen), Alaric and I will delight in inventing several imaginative ways to teach Mike to respect women.
Maybe Komal’s right and I’m more of an unhinged dark romance hero than I give myself credit for.
“Thank you, Dora.” I take her hand and give it a reassuring squeeze. “Your secret is safe with me. But if you ever need a friend with sharp fangs and no morals, know that you can call me.”
“Noted.” She smiles sadly. “Good luck with your grand gesture, Gideon. I think you’ll need it.”
17
Arabella
Then
Mademoiselle Macquart, I have been asking around the neighbourhood about the mysterious goings-on at the theatre. The fishmonger witnessed a figure in a dark cloak fleeing down the street on the night the flowers were left, and a streetwalker reports what sounds like the same cloaked figure brushing past her, almost knocking her into the gutter. Although neither saw the figure’s face, they believed it to be a man. I shall head to the coffee house after the theatre closes, knock some heads together, and see what falls out.
Yours, Jacques
WE BID GOODNIGHT TOMONSIEURMONET, and I allow Gideon to drag me through the streets of Montmartre. I’ve not spent much time outside at night since I first arrived in the city. People who look like me are not always given a warm welcome. Before I had an income and ready access to Thralled humans and vintage blood, I would hunt by moonlight, supping from drunks passed out in the alleys or the opium eaters as they emerged from their hollow dens. But now La Petite Mort demands everything from me during the midnight hours, andduring the day I must have my daysleep. It leaves little time to slip into the heaving, pulsing streets of the city and feel her lifeblood.
