“What about your family?” she asks, true concern in her voice.
Cosette never wanted to betray us, I believe this now. And damn if that doesn’t change the whole landscape of who we are.
“They’re good. Maman’s safe and was never one of their leads or targets anyway. Thayer and Savannah are traveling but unscathed and Fabien and Nicolette are in Corsica. I’m the one they framed.”
“Someone framed you?” She frowns. “Who would do that?”
“God, anyone.”
My mind goes back to the dark recesses of the dungeon. The clinking of metal cuffs in the musky room. The cold at my back. But worst of all, the helpless feeling of being out of control and fully at the mercy of another.
“Lyam?” She traces the outline of my face with her fingertip. “You alright?”
“Yeah.” My voice is husky. “Fine.”
“You’re not alright. You got so angry with me for lying, yet you do it to me so casually,” she muses.
She cuts right through the bullshit. I always loved that about her.
“Not now,” I tell her.
She looks out the window. “Wherearewe anyway?”
“A place where no one will find us. You’ll see in a minute, but it’s a little tricky to get there.”
“Right.” She takes in our surroundings. “I’ve never been here before.”
“One of the hidden gems north of Paris.”
“Oh, wow.”
We have small locations all throughout Europe we can go to when we need to. A secret underground bunker near the Metro in downtown Paris, private hotel rooms accessed through back entrances, an abandoned church north of the Louvre, a warehouse south of the city.
We share our private locations with our friends the Rossis in America, and in return they give us access to their home in Tuscany, like an underground network. Sometimes, being in a place that’s secluded and solitary works for hiding. Sometimes, it’s best to hide in plain sight.
I take her bags and check my guns as she exits the vehicle. No one’s tracked us here. We lost them back at the bridge.
I lead her down a flight of stone stairs that smell musty from disuse into a paved area.
“Oh wow. Is there a chamber with a princess? A dragon hoarding its gold? This is like… an outside dungeon.”
Chains. Damp air. Stale cigarette smoke. The squealing of rodents hunting for crumbs.
“Yeah.” My voice is husky. “Like an outside dungeon.”
I turn my memories toward a dungeon involving Cosette and pull them away from the memories that keep me up at night.
At the foot of the stairs, a paved road leads to several places only locals know about. You won’t find these locales in any travel guides.
“Charming,” Cosette says with a curious look. I wonder if she’s being sarcastic. The rustic, world-weary location is meant to throw people off. We’ve installed top-notch security measures. I’ll know if there’s so much as a mouse searching for a scrap of food.
She’ll like it here, though. I’ll enjoy seeing her reaction.
I open the series of locks and push open the heavy door.
Cosette gasps. “I suppose we’ll make do, won’t we?”
A gleaming marble floor stretches out before us, and six members of staff stand ready for my command. We have Le Marquise all to ourselves.
