It had been forty-eight hours since I last saw Thea. Not that I was counting, precisely. I hadn’t lived over nine hundred years to suddenly count the passing of hours. Yet, here I was–so what the hell was wrong with me? And, what was worse, I soon wouldn’t have her to myself, I would have to share her with all of Paris.
French vampires were notorious snobs, and I was no exception. Unlike most of the older French lines, our family had staked outposts throughout Europe, then more in America and Asia. To some of the other French vampire families this was enough to erase any notion of our shared French blood. But Paris doors were always open to the name Rousseaux. But that access also entailed social obligations. A Rousseaux was expected to accept any formal invitation.
That was the problem with having old blood. We adhered to tradition at all costs.
The same couldn’t be said for most Parisian covens.
A few who never bothered to attend social events in America did so only because they refused to leave Europe. Despite the arrogance, the season always came to them. Everyone found Paris romantic, even vampires.
Maybe that’s why they put on such a good show. This season, Paris’s scheduled events sounded even more excessive than usual, something I needed to prepare Thea for on the flight over.
I was only a few blocks from her apartment when my phone rang over the BMW’s speaker.
“Fan-fucking-tastic,” I grumbled when my father’s name flashed on the dashboard’s screen. Since he wasn’t my mother, I decided to answer.
“Yes?”
“I’m supposed to ask if you’re coming to Paris,” he said, sounding irritated to be playing the role of messenger.
“Do I have a choice?”
“And if you’re bringing the human,” he added, ignoring my question.
“Why doesn’t she ask me herself?” So far, my mother had gone through Celia, my father, and even Sebastian to relay details about the events in Paris over the next two weeks. “And why are there so many fucking parties?”
“San Francisco was unofficial,” he confessed in a lowered voice. I suspected he didn’t want my mother to overhear him saying that. “These are the first events of the season. As the eligible Rousseaux, you are ex–”
“I know,” I cut him off. I’d heard this lecture before, and I’d watched Camila sit through it when it was her turn. “Is that the reason you called? To relay her messages?”
“I guess we could confide in each other,” he said harshly, “or you could tell me about your day?”
“I’ll take it that is it,” I said, reaching to end the call.
“There’s one more thing,” he said, stopping me. There was a long pause, which meant he was about to deliver bad news. “There is an event Thea will need to attend. It’s private–”
“Put her on the phone,” I interrupted him.
He paused as if considering my request before finally caving. “Give me a moment.”
I heard my mother’s voice pitch up to an octave that allowed it to be heard with perfect clarity, even from across a large, echoing room. “I’m very busy seeing to the packing. Can it wait?”
“Put her on,” I told my father again.
I heard him pass it to her along with a whisper to behave herself. Was he trying to make things worse?
“So, you’re speaking to me again?” she said.
“Which event will Thea need to attend without me?” I demanded, slamming my palm on the steering wheel. “She’s not a familiar.”
“But you are thinking about marrying her,” she responded smoothly. “Or have you reconsidered?”
I saw what she was doing. She would keep pulling threads until she found the one that would unravel my well-laid plans. I couldn’t let it happen. “No, but those events are for familiars,” I countered.
“They are for all possible consorts,” she corrected.
“And that now includes humans?”
“If you’re concerned then maybe you should leave her at home.”
“I don’t see why she needs to attend a private event. Nothing is decided,” I said through gritted teeth. “And I won’t have Thea at a party for witches.”
“Your French side is coming out,” she said with a sniff. “You’re acting like a snob.”
I rolled my eyes. If anything, I was acting like her.
“Besides, I’ve already registered her for the Salon du Rouge.”
I stopped the car in front of Thea’s building, wondering why I bothered trying to speak. She never heard a word I said.
A few questionable characters shuffled down the sidewalk outside. At least, taking Thea to Paris meant getting her away from this far from ideal living situation.
“Does she have appropriate clothing?” Sabine asked.
“She’ll be dressed,” I snapped.
“That is not what I asked. I will not have you parading a mortal around in clothes from a thrift shop.”
“I have to go.” I ended the call before she could add to her growing list of demands.
I climbed out of the car to find Thea waiting on the sidewalk. She was dressed in a pair of torn jeans that rose high on the waist, showing off the curves of her hips, an oversized cardigan, and a cropped black T-shirt that had two words printed over her pert breasts: Bite me.
I raised an eyebrow. “I’m not certain that shirt respects my boundaries, pet.”
“I’ve had this for years,” she said with a barely contained giggle. She hoisted her small hand luggage higher on her shoulder. “I just thought it was funny. Given the circumstances.”
Given the circumstances, she was going to wind up with my fangs deep in her neck if she kept pushing my buttons. I had more restraint than human males, but even I had my limits. I lifted the bag from her shoulder and looked around. “Where are the rest of your bags?”
“Just my purse.” She patted the small bag hanging near her hip. “Everything’s in there.”
“We’re going to be gone for two weeks, at least.” Maybe she’d misheard me.
But Thea shrugged her slight shoulders, looking unfazed. “I can always find somewhere to do laundry.”
“Do laundry?” I repeated.
“Yes,” she said slowly. “You put clothes in the washing machine, add soap, and it cleans them.”
“I know what laundry is,” I growled. “But why not just pack more clothes?”
“These are my clothes. And when Celia texted me the information, she promised she would send the green dress.” The matter-of-fact innocence of her response was adorable.
It made me want to pat her on the head–or maybe swat her on the ass. Either way, something would have to be done. Preferably before my mother found out that she’d been right to ask about her wardrobe.
“Ready?” I asked, knowing that there was nothing I could do at this moment.
“Oui,” she said brightly and followed me to the car.
But her demeanor suggested otherwise as we headed toward the private airfield where my family kept our jets. She was a bundle of nerves. Her scent was sweeter than usual, and it filled the cabin, likely her body pumping glucose as a response to some stress. She fidgeted in the seat next to me, tapping her fingers on the center console or readjusting her seat belt.
Finally, I reached over and took one of her hands. I wrapped my gloved fingers around her pale, bare ones. It was strange to touch a woman’s hands so intimately, even if no magic sparked under her skin.
“Are you okay?” I kept her hand in mine.
“Oh.” She bit her lip until it was slightly puffy. “Promise you won’t laugh.”
“That’s an odd answer.”
“Just promise,” she said more forcefully.
“I won’t laugh,” I said firmly.
She took a deep breath and blurted out, “I’ve never been on a plane before.”
“You’ve never…Why do you have a passport?”
“My mom and I borrowed her boss’s condo in Mexico a few years ago,” she explained. “We drove past the border and stayed a few days.”
I stole a few looks at her, trying to understand what her life was like. She’d never been on a plane. She’d never been with a man. What exactly had she done? Or was this typical for this stage in a mortal’s life span? There were so many places she’d yet to experience, foods she hadn’t tried. Her whole life was ahead of her, and I had already done it all.
“You’re quiet,” she said after a minute, squeezing my hand. “Nervous about flying?”
She grinned up at me like she was letting me in on the joke.
“I was just thinking about all the places I’m going to take you,” I murmured.
“In Paris?” she said hopefully.
I raised our joined hands and kissed her knuckles absently as I exited the highway. “All over the world.”
I glanced over at her again and found her blushing.
“Are you sure I’m the best person to take with you?” she asked to my surprise. “I’m hardly some familiar trained to attend these parties. I’m going to embarrass you.”
I nearly drove off the road, but I managed to straighten the wheel. Obviously, this wasn’t just anxiety about flying. I didn’t answer her until we’d reached my private hangar. Turning my eyes, I locked mine on hers. “You are exactly the person I want by my side. You deserve the world. Let me give it to you.”
Thea’s throat slid as she nodded.
“Now that we’ve settled that.” I gently released my hold on her hand. “Shall we?”
But Thea turned her attention to the scene outside her window and stared. “Where are we? Where’s the airport?”
“We’re traveling by other means,” I told her. I didn’t want to risk using the words private plane while she was already struggling with imposter syndrome.
“Please don’t say coffins,” she whispered.
I couldn’t contain my laughter. The fact that she was so serious made it even funnier. “That’s definitely a myth.”
“Good,” she said with a resolute nod.
“Now that you know I’m not dragging you across the ocean in a coffin, are you ready?”
She bobbed her head, still chewing nervously on her lower lip.
I climbed out of the car, went around to her side, and helped her out. As soon as she was on her feet, she grabbed a fistful of my shirt and kissed me. It was hot and quick, and when we broke apart, she wore an unsure smile.
“What was that for?” I asked her.
“For luck.” She took a deep breath. “Let’s get this over with.”
I took her hand and continued to the other side of the hangar. As we rounded the corner, Thea gasped.
“What is that?” She pointed at the private jet waiting on the tarmac like she’d spotted a cockroach.
“Our ride.”
Thea stayed locked in place, staring at the massive executive liner. I stopped and swiveled toward her. “Come, pet, let me show you the world.”
