The one who’d come forme.
Chapter 12
After wanderingthrough the crooked streets of Paris for the better part of the morning, Celeste went to meet her sinner, and I took a nap that turned into hours of sleep. When I awoke, the elysian sky was purple with stars, which meant night had fallen over Paris,too.
I didn’t get up right away, too busy contemplating the stars and the dire choice I’d made. Had I really signed up to take on a Triple? Had I really gone to his house and met him? Had I really lost afeather?
I turned onto my side, finding a small lump emitting soft snores and topped by a tangle of long brown hair in the bed next to mine—Celeste.
Sighing, I threw the sheets off my legs and tiptoed around the room as quietly as possible. As I ran a brush through my hair, which looked shot through with copper and gold in the angel-fire lighting, I popped open the two top buttons of my black dress because my breasts were straining the cotton. Had they grown again? I turned sideways, inspecting my body. The bodice was definitely too tight, but opening any more buttons would make me look like one of the women from Jarod’s party, and although I wanted to be invited back intoLa Cour des Démons, I didn’t want to be confused with one of his specialguests.
I was there for business, notpleasure.
I set the brush down, grabbed my bag, and left the bedroom, closing the door gently behind me. Unlike this morning, many Fletchings were out and about. I got my fair share of stares again as I walked through theguild.
“Bonsoir, Leigh,” Ophan Pauline said as I passed byher.
I smiled and wished her a pleasant night. I heard Fletchings ask her who I was—“a transfer from Guild 24”—and then I heard Asher’s name fall from many sets of lips. He must’ve given his speech already. Was he still around or had he departed? And if he’d left, had he given anyone a lift? As I exited into the dusky night, jealousy coated me like a cobweb, barely there but presentnonetheless.
I jerked to astop.
Jealousy had cost Eve a feather. I prayed it wouldn’t cost me one, too. I shut my eyes, waiting for the sting to come. Three pain-free lungfuls of oxygen later, I lifted my lids and pirouetted, checking the cobblestones around my bronzedheels.
I must not have been jealous enough to lose a feather. I took the subway this time, figuring it would be quicker than walking, but regretted my decision when I caught the reek of sweat rolling off the humans scurrying through thetunnels.
A woman with ripped clothes, dirt-stained cheeks, and a sleeping child cradled in her lap extended a paper cup filled with coins. “Shivouplait,” she said, jingling thecup.
It took me a couple of seconds to figure out she meant, “S’il vous plaît.”Please. I dug a blue bill from my bag and stuffed it inside hercup.
She blinked at the bill, then at me, but didn’t say thank you. Hopefully, she’d use the money to feed her kid although I sadly doubted this. We had our fair share of beggars back in New York City, and most of them traded their cash for alcohol or gave it to their organization’sboss.
I continued down the tunnel, hurrying when the grating sound of a train braking echoed against the tiled quay, and all but flew down a steep flight of stairs, lurching into the train right before the glass doors claspedshut.
Four stops later, I changed trains at an even busier station and then spent another ten minutes rocked sideways in a metal tube snaking under Paris. When I emerged above ground, I greedily gulped in air that didn’t smell like a thousandbodies.
How I longed tofly.
I checked the navy plaque nailed to the building on the street corner to figure out where I was standing. Once I situated myself, I headed east toward the manicured square and the foreboding red doors. As I walked, I deliberated on the case I was about to plead to be allowed one more audience with the Demon Court’sleader.
I shuddered at the idea of going back inside and facing Jarod, but when I reached the crimson entrance, I pressed the buzzer. Unlike yesterday, the door didn’t click open. I waited before ringing again. Nothing. I supposed Jarod had passed around the order not to let mein.
He couldn’t stay locked inside forever, though. And considering his line of work, he was bound to receive a visitor. I was good at waiting peopleout.
I took the book I’d brought along and settled against one of the arcade’s stone pillars, angling the pages toward the lamppost. I’d wait all night if that’s what ittook.
An hour later, I shut the book, shocked by the final plot twist—the duke hadn’t gotten the girl; the stable boy had. I wasn’t sure how I felt about the turn of events. I’d been so certain the heroine would end up with the duke that I’d discarded the stable boy, and here he was besting hissovereign.
“I thought she was leaving the country,” a gruff voicesaid.
I jerked my gaze off the cover, almost giving myselfwhiplash.
Tristan’s light eyes sparked in the obscurity, and a smile flipped the corners of his mouthup.
Before he could sayI told you so, I wet my lips. “Monsieur Adler, I know you didn’t want to seeme—”
“Jarod.”
“What?”
