by Lora Edwards
“Mrs. Ambroise.”
“It is nice to make your acquaintance. I am Victoria.”
The woman nodded and gestured for her to follow her up the winding staircase. Victoria ran her hands up the satiny wooden banister, enjoying the smooth sensation under her fingers. The house was beautiful, the attention to detail staggering.
They reached the top of the stairs and Victoria followed Mrs. Ambroise to the left until she stopped in front of a set of double doors.
“Armand told us of your arrival and asked to have these rooms readied for you.” Mrs. Ambroise again eyed Victoria shrewdly. “These are the rooms for the lady of the house. I grew up in this villa, and he has brought many guests here throughout the years, never just a single lady. But you are just colleagues, yes,” she asked with a raised eyebrow.
The woman didn’t wait for Victoria to answer her question, instead opening the double doors wide and moving to the side to allow Victoria to step through.
In her time with the countess, Victoria had enjoyed many creature comforts and stayed in many lavish rooms. As the countess’s companion, she had been shown some respect by the others, but she had never been given rooms this luxurious.
“I will leave you to get settled,” Mrs. Ambroise said, smiling a bit behind Victoria’s back as the girl surveyed the rooms. She seemed to be naive for being one of the nosferatu, and Mrs. Ambroise liked her instantly. Her family had a hint of the witch in their blood, and it made her an excellent judge of character.
Victoria nodded faintly as she heard Mrs. Ambroise gently close the doors. She looked around the sumptuous suite before sinking down onto an ivory velvet slipper chair. She was not quite sure how to take the comments from Mrs. Ambroise. Armand had made it quite clear on the train that he was there to catch a killer and then get on with things. Sighing heavily, she surveyed the room once more. A cheery fire had been lit in the white marble fireplace, the crackling flames warming the elegant sitting room. A long bookshelf graced one wall, and she spied some of her favorite titles. She walked over and grabbed Dracula from the shelf. Bram Stoker’s tale had always amused her, and she wondered how the man it portrayed felt about it. Dracula rarely ventured from his castle, remaining reclusive over the centuries and preferring not to mix with others. He was not the romantic character the films of this time she had seen depicted him as. He was what he had been in life: a cruel man who ruled his territory with an iron fist. She, for one, hoped she was not ever called to his presence, as she had heard tell of it being a frightening experience. The countess had ventured to the castle many times, and the two had been friendly for centuries as they had some of the same interests in common.
Victoria shuddered with bad memories as she opened the novel and then closed it again. Maybe Dracula was not the right choice for the moment. She wandered back over to the bookshelf and perused the titles. There was quite the varied collection. She instead chose a story of love, hope, and new beginnings. She smiled as she sat in one of the overstuffed chairs in front of the fire and sank into the book.
Chapter 15
Armand sat at the table, perusing the newspaper while enjoying the homey smells of baking bread, cinnamon, and sugar that wafted from the kitchens. He would not partake, of course, but Mrs. Ambroise cooked and cleaned for the other residents of the vineyard. A large spread at breakfast and lunch was part of the perks of working at the vineyard. Armand believed a good meal to start the day and one in the middle inspired his crews to loyalty. Something kept his employees around, and the families of many of those who worked his vines had been employed there for many generations. The excellent pay, benefits, and free housing probably did not hurt matters. Armand remembered what it was like to be poor and have to scrape by, and he didn’t want any of his employees to ever have to endure such hardships. If his employees were loyal, they were rewarded for their loyalty. Their human lives were so short, and he wanted to give them any comfort he could.
Armand looked up at the sound of footsteps and smiled as Victoria stood in front of him. She looked fresh and beautiful, and he felt his traitorous heart take one large thump inside his chest at the sight of her.
He was there on a mission and to start in motion his new life, not to have a romance with a woman who may or may not have been staying in this timeline.
“Good morning. There is refreshment on the sideboard.” He knew he had been curt, but her smile had undid him.
He tried to ignore her as she bustled over, pouring herself a cup of tea and wrapping her hands around it.
She sat across from him and let out a contented sigh at the first sip. He lowered the paper enough to see her face as she closed her eyes and enjoyed.
He sighed; she was so beautiful and charming. She enjoyed everything offered and took pleasure in the small things he took for granted.
He relented and folded the newspaper, giving her a rueful smile. “I apologize for my curtness.”
Victoria only nodded, her eyes landing on the folded paper in front of them. Her smile faltered, and he could hear her heart pick up its pace in her chest.
“Victoria, what is it,” he asked kindly. Something in the paper had caught her eye.
Her hand trembled slightly as she pointed with one manicured nail at the announcement for the Paris Opera House. There was a premiere the following evening, and it was set to be the event of the year.
“That opera…it is her favorite. She would go on and on about it, and wherever we were she would find a way to see it.”
Armand stared down at the announcement, a plan forming in his mind.
“Do you think she continues this tradition?”
Victoria only nodded. “The opera being here in Paris would be even more of an attraction. With all the pomp and circumstance, it will not only draw out the human celebrities but also the more influential of our kind. She will not be able to resist flaunting herself in front of them.”
Armand’s grin was fierce and a bit feral. “My source on the train felt the same. It looks as if we will be attending the opera.”
“Attending the opera? We don’t have time for such frivolous pleasures. We are on the hunt.” Victor’s voice boomed throughout the room as he joined them.
Armand and Victoria turned toward him and gave him matching grins. He smiled in return. They were made for each other, and he just hoped they realized it.
“Look.” Victoria held up the newspaper for Victor to see. He looked at the large announcement and nodded, understanding dawning.
“Madame Butterfly—yes, that will draw her out. Luckily I brought my favorite tuxedo.”
Armand nodded; he had as well. They both turned to Victoria, who blushed. “I brought some of the nicer dresses Ovidia and I picked out, but nothing elegant enough for the Paris Opera House.”
“It looks like some shopping is in order then,” Armand said softly. “Pack a small valise, Victoria, enough for a few days. We are going to Paris.” With that pronouncement, he strode out of the room to make the arrangements.
Could it be this easy? Would they catch her this quickly? He could taste freedom, and he longed to come back to this place and get his hands in the soil, to sweat from the sun and have his muscles ache from a hard day’s work. He knew the ache would only last a few hours until his superior strength and healing abilities kicked in, but for those few hours, he could be the humble farmer he had once been. It was those small interludes that had helped him remember who he was and where he’d come from, and they had kept him sane in his long life.
Chapter 16
Victoria felt her head spinning. They were again headed to Paris.
Armand strode in from the study and saw her standing in the foyer. “Good, you are ready. Our mode of travel will be quite a bit quicker this time.”
Victoria frowned. “Quicker?”
“Yes. We used the car to come to the vineyard after arriving in Paris as we can’t just appear here. There are not any airports, and it would be quite suspicious if we just appeared
. Now that we are here, though, we can use the mirror system to go back and forth. The people working in the house are from trusted families. They have worked for me for generations and are well aware of our kind and the magic of the institute. They have sworn a blood oath to keep our secret, and the consequences of breaking such a thing are dire indeed.”
“Has anyone ever broken it?”
Armand’s face darkened. “Only once.” He turned and walked down the hallway, motioning for her to follow. Victoria’s shoulders slumped as she hurried after him. She hadn’t meant to anger him with her question. She was curious, a trait she loved and hated about herself in equal measure. It had gotten her into hot water more times than she could count, both as a human and an immortal, but it was something she couldn’t quite seem to quell.
Armand stopped at a large wooden door and produced an ornate brass key from his pocket. Before he could slip it into the lock, Victoria put a hand on his shoulder.
“Armand, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry into something painful. I am always poking my nose into things where it doesn’t belong. Curiosity is my worst trait.”
He turned around so suddenly it caused her to take a step back. He put his hands on her shoulders to steady her, and he left them there.
Despite the coldness of his skin, a warmth spread through her at his touch.
“Victoria, there is nothing to apologize for. It is a touchy subject for me as it was a failure I should have seen coming. It is a story I will tell you, but at a better time. Your curiosity is a blessing, not a curse. It is one of the things I like most about you.”
Victoria just stared at him. He continued to hold her arms, his thumbs caressing the bare skin, making her heart beat in her chest, and she shivered. He lowered his eyes to her mouth, and she felt her lips tingle.
He lowered his head and brushed his lips across hers, once…then twice.
Heavy footsteps and a chuckle sounded behind them, causing them to jump apart.
“It’s about time!” Humor sparkled in Victor’s eyes. “You two have been dancing around this attraction since you met.”
“We don’t have time for attraction. We are here to catch the countess,” Armand said harshly, not looking at Victoria as he turned and roughly jammed the brass key in the lock, pushing the door to the room open and striding through.
Victor put a hand on her shoulder and whispered in her ear. “Ignore his surliness, lass. I always knew when he found the one, he would fight it like a fish on a hook.”
Before she could respond, Armand snarled at them from the doorway. “Are you two done gossiping? We have a killer to catch.”
Victoria turned and walked into the room, not looking at Armand but feeling his gaze biting into her face as she walked by him. Victor chuckled and gave Armand a shove as he crossed the threshold. Armand slammed the door after they entered and put the key back in his pocket.
Victoria looked around. The room was bare of furniture—of anything, really. The only notable item was a large ornate mirror hung on the wall. It reflected the room, an ordinary mirror in an empty, windowless space.
“Victoria, you have traveled through the window at the institute before, and this will be much the same. It will deposit us in the institute in Paris, and then we can catch a cab to our lodgings.” He gave a curt nod before turning to the mirror. “Placere aperire.”
He waved his arm and the surface of the mirror rippled like someone had thrown a stone into a pond. The reflection wavered before it changed. No longer was the empty room reflected back at them but another room, similarly empty with another wooden door leading out.
Armand gestured Victor through the mirror, next Victoria, and finally himself. She shuddered as an icy feeling enveloped her, as if she had walked under a cold waterfall. Before she took in her next breath, she was standing in the new stone room looking back at the room from the vineyard.
Armand turned and waved his hand once again, uttering, “Prope placet.” The mirror on this side rippled and then reflected the room they were standing in.
Armand strode to the door, opened it, and waited for the others to pass through before using the same brass key from the vineyard door to lock the room. Without looking at them, he walked down a long hall lined with similar doors. Victoria was curious about what was behind them, perhaps more empty rooms holding mirrors or other curiosities. The stony look on Armand’s face warned her that this was not the time to ask such questions. He seemed angry with her because of the kiss. He’d made it obvious that although he was attracted to her, he was not interested in pursuing that attraction.
That was all right with her. She had decisions to make and a killer to catch, and romance was not on her agenda.
All thoughts of Armand left her mind as he opened a final door and the three of them walked into the heart of the Paris institute. She felt her jaw drop as she looked around the building. The institute in London was old-world elegance with warm woods and subdued lighting. The Paris institute dazzled with cool white marble and a sweeping staircase, priceless statues tucked in niches all around the large entryway, which was lit by an enormous empress crystal chandelier sparkling overhead.
Armand turned to them and his face softened as he saw her gawking at their surroundings. “It is very impressive, isn’t it. It is the secondary hub of the institute and as such is quite grand. Most of the outposts are not as ornate, but this is Paris, and when in Rome, as they say.” He shrugged his shoulders a bit sheepishly.
It made her want to cuddle him, but she shook that thought out of her mind.
“We will hail a cab from here and drop our things off at the hotel then Victoria, you and I will go about finding you an appropriate gown and accessories for tomorrow night’s opera.”
Victoria just nodded, still stunned by her surroundings. She felt as if her head was on a swivel trying to take it all in.
“I will bring you back once all of this is over and let you have a tour,” Armand said softly, tugging on her arm to get her moving. She only nodded at his empty promise; he would be too busy getting on with his life to remember. Maybe she could get Teagan to bring her back. After all, her husband was now the head of the whole operation.
Armand tugged her out into the bustling crowds, and she looked behind her and grinned. Behind her stood an old, nondescript stone building, one of many that dotted Paris’s landscape. It looked to have been a factory at one time, and while not rundown, its facade being well maintained, it did not hint at the wonder and luxury inside.
“Amazing things sometimes come in unassuming packages.” Armand winked at her as he slipped inside a cab, causing butterflies in her stomach. What was she going to do about him? One minute he was surly, telling her he hadn’t the time for romance, and the next he was grinning and winking at her—flirting. Maybe that was just part of his natural personality. He was French, after all, and were they not known for being a sensual people?
Victoria pushed the thoughts out of her mind and watched Paris speed by. As they drove on, the buildings became more upscale and recognizable. The cab stopped in front of one of the most luxurious hotels in Paris, the George Sanc.
Armand paid the cab driver and they all piled out onto the sidewalk. Victoria again thanked Ovidia for the shopping trip. She was dressed in a white sheath dress accented with a black leaf pattern paired with a fitted black blazer and black stilettos. From the looks of the other women walking into the hotel, she had hit it right on the money. Armand and Victor had also dressed the part, looking like the men in the fashion magazines she had perused back at the institute.
Her heels clicked softly on the marble floors. She had been in opulence, had lived in it as the countess did nothing by half. She was glad of this as she didn’t gawk at the dripping chandeliers and elegant people strolling through the lobby of the grand hotel. Channeling the countess, she put on an air of arrogant indifference and stood waiting for Armand to finish his business with the front desk.
He nodded at her and V
ictor then they followed him to the elevators, riding them up to the top floor. Victoria smiled wryly—only the best for Armand.
“The penthouse suite, my lady.” He bowed, and she giggled as she got off the elevator. This silly side of him was new, and like all of the others she had seen, it caused her to like him just that much more.
Victor rolled his eyes and stepped off the elevator behind Victoria, followed by Armand. He handed them each a piece of plastic. “This is the key to the room. In the modern world, people rarely use keys at hotels anymore.”
He slipped his plastic card into a slot on the door and a green light lit up. Armand pushed it open and the others followed him in.
“The suite offers two bedrooms and the master suite. Victoria, you can take the master as it has its own ensuite bathroom.” Armand gestured toward a set of double doors off to the side. “Victor and I will take the other two rooms.”
“Oh, I couldn’t possibly do that, Armand—you paid for the room.”
He looked at her intently. “Take it, Victoria. You deserve the pampering.” He turned and started discussing another matter with Victor, effectively ending the conversation.
Victoria smiled; she would let him win this one. It would be much more comfortable for her to have her own bathroom to get ready for the opera as she would take much more time than the men. Ah, the tribulations of being a woman.
She walked to the double doors and opened them. It was as she had expected: opulent and luxurious. Setting her small case on the long chaise at the end of the bed, she wandered over to a large sterling silver vase set on one of the bedside tables. It held a bouquet of roses, the petals dewy and fresh, and she inhaled the delicate scent of them. They were her favorite.
She noticed a cream-colored card set at the base, a welcome from the hotel, she expected. She picked up the card and turned it over. The words on the other side caused her heart to give a hard thump in her chest.