We laugh and talk and laugh some more. Sarah sings a haunting aria. The men devour the goodies inside the picnic basket. The balloon bumps against the base of Gustave’s Eiffel Tower, but we manage to push it away before we become trapped. Gideon doesn’t try to kiss me again, and I am both disappointed and excited. I have made up my mind that I want to kiss this human. Sarah is right – I shouldn’t hold myself back. I am safe here. My sire is dead and I can kiss a human if I want to.
But for now, I am enjoying the anticipation of this kiss. I intend to draw it out until we are both so desperate for it that we will burn in each other’s passion. I’ve been in the business of sex long enough to know that anticipation is half the pleasure.
Sarah pulls another bottle of champagne from somewhere. I raise my glass to my lips. As I do, I notice my hand shaking.
I pull my attention inward, listening to my body. And it’s telling me that I’ve made a terrible mistake.
I stagger to my feet. My legs give out from beneath me and I topple against the basket.
“Arabella?” Gideon wraps his arms around me, setting me lightly on the floor of the basket. “What’s wrong? Are you sick?”
“Oh dear, she’s had too much to drink.” Sarah cries gleefully. “We can fix that with more champagne!”
I haven’t had enough to drink.
My fangs slide down, their tips aching with thirst. Gideon is too close. He smells too good. And I’m fading fast. I haven’t felt hunger like this since the night Lord Astor punished me by locking me outside as the sun rose—
No.
As I squint at the blurring world, I notice a hint of gold at the edge of my vision, the city beneath me unfurling into a glittering warmth.
This is not good.
All those months back in Egypt, I practised being able to stay awake during the sunlight hours, but since I arrived in Paris, I’ve let the skill lapse. And now I’m paying dearly. I won’t stay awake much longer. I need to get home before I fall into the dreamless sleep, and my companions panic and take me tol’hôpital.
“Arabella, can you talk to me?” Gideon’s mouth quivers with worry.
“Do you have… your pocket watch?” I slap Gideon’s lapel, trying to reach into his pocket, but my fingers don’t seem to be attached to my body.
“How forward of you—”
“I’m not joking. I need to know the time.”
“I don’t have it. I didn’t bring it with me, in case I lost it over the edge during one of Sarah’s mad dances. Arabella, what’s wrong?”
The golden glow on the horizon. A glow I haven’t seen for over a decade.
“I have to get down. Now.” I tug on one of the ropes. The envelope collapses on one side. Sarah screams as we drop several feet before Gideon wrestles the rope from my hand.
“What’s the hurry?” Sarah’s friend drawls. “We have the sky all to ourselves. We were going to watch the sunrise and—”
“I can’t.” Panic clenches at my chest. My fangs bite into my lip. I slap Gideon’s hands away, clawing at the basket, trying to drag myself upright. My skin is filled with stones and scorpions with scuttling legs and sharp, poisonous tails.
“Ma chérie, what’s the rush—” Sarah’s eyes darken as she scans my face. “Of course. We’ll set down immediately.”
“Arabella, what’s wrong?” Gideon wraps his arms around me, pulling me against him.
“I can’t explain. I can’t—”
“Arabella?”
The world wobbles. The scorpions sting. The last thing I see before I pass out is Gideon’s pale and worried face.
18
Arabella
Maisie:O Magnificent One, I’ve put up audition notices around the village – we’re expecting a great crowd. Thank you again for doing this! See you tonight at book club!
