by Amy Cross
But now I knew that all hope was lost. He was going for Chloe, he was trying to rewrite time and destiny. And I understood, finally, that my only option was to kill my brother.
Chapter Twenty-One
Chloe
The sun had begun to rise by the time I emerged from the strange world beneath the bridge. Climbing out through the hole in the wall, I had to shield my eyes.
“Do you know the way from here?” Antoinette asked as she made her way out to join me. “Follow the road for a few miles and you'll come to a bus stop. From there, you can get back to the city.”
Turning to her, I could tell that she was still worried about Matthias.
“Are you sure you don't know how we can contact him?” I asked.
“Quite sure,” she replied. “He will have very deliberately made sure that neither of us can go to him. Perhaps it is already over, and he and Hugo are gone, although...” She paused, as if she was sensing something in the air. “I think I will know when Matthias dies. He is still alive, at least for now. I would prefer it if you stayed here with me for one more day, Chloe. Just until I can be sure that it's safe for you to return to the city. Matthias might have been right to leave you here.”
“I have to get going,” I told her. “This whole night has been surreal.”
“Well,” she continued, “maybe I will see you at my coronation. I feel a great change is coming, and soon I will be restored to my rightful place as ruler of this country.”
“Good luck with that,” I muttered, turning to start trudging through the mud, before stopping and glancing back at her. “Humor me,” I said after a moment. “If Matthias really is a vampire, then how old is he?”
She smiled. “I first met him in the seventeenth century,” she explained, “and even then, his eyes were already old.”
***
Pushing open the door to my apartment a few hours later, I immediately saw that the place was a mess. Tables had been tipped over and broken, and there were patches of blood smeared across the floor.
Sighing, I shut the door and checked each of the rooms, just so I could be absolutely certain that no-one was lurking. I still didn't remember exactly what had happened during the previous night, when Belinda had miraculously shown up, but I was starting to feel increasingly convinced that I'd suffered some kind of temporary manic hysteria. I mean, sure, there had been a few moments when the idea of Matthias being a vampire had seemed almost possible, but now in the cold light of morning the real world was asserting itself again.
“I went mad,” I said finally, speaking the words out loud in an attempt to ground myself. “Maybe someone spiked my drink, and I went absolutely off my rocker. It happens to people, and this time it happened to me.”
I wandered through to the bathroom and checked my reflection in the mirror. The bruise on my cheek was gone, and when I took a look at my chest I saw there was no damage there, either.
Convenient.
Clearly I'd imagined those injuries in the middle of some kind of manic episode. During the time when I thought I was inside a bridge with someone named Antoinette, I was probably just sitting by myself in the mud, gibbering away and hallucinating. In fact, I was starting to believe that maybe I'd accidentally ingested some LSD or magic mushrooms, and that I'd ended up on some kind of massive trip.
Still, heading back through to the main room of my apartment, I figured I needed to start cleaning up the mess. For that, I'd have to go and buy some fresh cleaning supplies. Which wouldn't be easy, as I suddenly remembered that I'd lost my bag and purse.
***
“Do you speak English?” I asked the woman behind the desk at the police station. “Um, parlez... vous... Anglais?”
She nodded.
“I need to report a -”
Before I could finish, I was bumped from behind as two cops escorted a struggling tramp toward the cells. I watched for a moment, momentarily shocked by the terrible stench, before turning back to the woman.
Realizing that I'd felt the tramp's hand brush against my coat, I quickly reached down to make sure that I hadn't been pickpocketed. To my relief, I felt my notebook and back-up cards still nestled in my pocket.
“I need to report a lost bag,” I told the woman behind the desk, as I tried to stay focused, “and some other...”
My voice trailed off for a moment. On the way to the station, I'd been tempted to tell them the whole story, and to ask them to look into the possibility that Belinda had somehow shown up alive. Standing in the brightly lit reception area, however, I was feeling more and more that I'd just end up coming across as a lunatic.
“A lost bag,” I said again, forcing a smile. “I think I need a police report number before I can get some of the items replaced. Mainly my passport.”
“Name,” the woman asked with a sigh.
“Chloe Carter.”
She typed my details into the computer.
“Wait here a moment,” she said finally, getting to her feet and making her way to a nearby door.
“Is there a problem?” I asked.
Ignoring me, she disappeared into another room, leaving me standing alone in the hallway. Glancing over my shoulder, I saw a few people sitting in the waiting room by the window, and after a moment I realized that one of them – a middle-aged woman – was watching me intently. She looked away as soon as we made eye contact, but I couldn't help feeling as if she'd been keeping an eye on me.
“That man back there,” I remembered Matthias telling me during the night, “was going to turn you over to Hugo's people, and then you'd have been taken straight to my brother. I told you his spies are everywhere, Chloe. If you walk into a hospital or a police station, the same thing will happen again.”
Telling myself not to overreact, I looked over at the door and tried to wait patiently for the woman to return. Whatever she was doing, it was clearly taking her a while, but again I forced myself to stay calm and just wait for her to come back with the form I needed.
“Ms. Lucas?” a voice asked suddenly.
Turning, I saw an officer making his way toward me.
“Hi,” I replied, a little surprised by his approach. “I just... I'm just here to report some missing items.”
“Would one of them happen to be a twenty-four-year-old British man?”
I opened my mouth to reply to him, before realizing that I had no idea what he meant. “Um... What?”
***
“You tried to run out of a cafe without paying?” I asked incredulously as I followed Jackson down the steps at the front of the station. “What the hell were you thinking?”
“I was thinking I was hungry,” he replied, turning to me with a sigh. “To be honest, I hadn't expected you to turn me away at your door. I was relying on you, just a little, to kinda help me out once I got here. It's your fault I was starving, Chloe.”
“Bail you out, more like,” I muttered. “You're lucky I still had a couple of cards left, or you'd still be rotting in that cell.”
“And I appreciate it,” he continued, stepping toward me. He put his hands on my arms, and although I flinched, I didn't pull away. “I know you put up a bit of a fight sometimes, but deep down you're a good person and you care.” He paused, watching me even though I couldn't quite meet his gaze. “I also know you well enough to know when something's wrong, Chloe. What happened?”
“It's dumb.”
“I know all about dumb. Come on, spill the beans.”
Finally looking him in the eye, I couldn't help realizing that I needed to get it all off my chest.
“You're going to think I'm insane,” I told him.
“We're way past that point.” He smiled. “By the way, I've got a bag of your stuff. You left it at the metro station. I was gonna drop it by, but... Well, I figured I should leave it a few days until you'd cooled off. Don't worry, though, I didn't take anything. I didn't go through your purse looking for money, if that's what you're thinking. I'm not that bad.”
�
��You have my bag?” I asked, feeling a genuine rush of relief. “With my passport and everything?”
“I guess so. Like I said, I haven't looked inside.”
“Thank you,” I replied. Before I remembered to stop myself, I put my arms around him and gave him a hug. “I was starting to think I was trapped here. I thought I'd have to go to the embassy and get emergency travel documents.”
“Travel?” He paused. “For where?”
I paused, before taking a step back. “Paris has gone crazy,” I told him. “I'll explain it all later, but right now I need to get out of here. I need to go back to London and make sure my head is on straight.”
“That's...” He smiled. “That's great news, Chloe. I always knew you wouldn't be able to hack it here in Paris. I mean, come on, we both know you're a London girl. This whole crazy adventure was blatantly ridiculous from the start.”
“I wanted to prove I could do it,” I replied, feeling a pang of disappointment. “I thought I could.”
“I gave you three months, maximum,” he said, putting an arm around my shoulder. “Admit it, at least part of the reason for coming out here was 'cause you were heartbroken after we broke up.”
“That was one factor,” I admitted. “There were others.”
“There's no shame in admitting failure,” he continued, pulling me closer. “You know what they say, right? You have to screw up a few times before you succeed. All the mistakes you've made out here are only gonna make you tougher when we get back to Britain.”
As we started walking along the street, I felt a growing sense of nausea in my belly. I wanted to push Jackson away, to tell him he was wrong about me and that I'd be staying in Paris after all, but I couldn't bring myself to do any of that. Instead, my head was full of thoughts of home, of London, and I realized a voice in the back of my mind was already starting to relax at the idea of going home.
Home.
London was home, no matter how hard I fought the idea.
“I thought you seemed a bit spaced-out last night,” he muttered.
“Last night?”
“When I saw you near your place.”
“I didn't see you last night,” I stammered.
“Sure you did. You were walking toward the door, and when you spotted me, you looked like you'd seen a ghost. You muttered some kind of excuse about being busy and you scarpered before I had a chance to tell you about your bag.”
“That didn't happen,” I replied. “At least, I don't think it did. I don't remember.”
“Huh. That's pretty weird. How could you forget seeing my handsome face, eh?”
“I think I went nuts last night,” I said finally. “You won't believe what seemed to be happening to me at the time. It seemed so real, but now I think I was having some kind of psychotic episode.”
“Sounds fun.”
“It was about vampires.”
He immediately laughed and kissed the top of my head.
“I mean it,” I continued. “It was so realistic, it was like everything was actually happening all around me. And it was so detailed! Somehow I dreamed up this entire world of people, and...”
For a moment, I thought back to the hours I'd spent under the bridge with Matthias and Antoinette.
“Careful!”
Jackson pulled me back, just as I stepped off the sidewalk and out into the road. Flustered, it took me a moment to realize that I'd been about to walk straight into traffic.
“You really are out of it, aren't you?” he asked, putting a hand on the side of my face and forcing me to look up at him. “I've never seen you like this before, Chloe. Listen, I know I might not still be your favorite person in the world, but why don't we go back to your place and think about getting you sorted out?” He paused, before flashing the same smile I remembered from all those years earlier, back when things had been good between us. “Let's make your last night in Paris one you do remember.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Matthias
Stumbling through the shadows, I stopped for a moment as soon as I heard voices ahead.
Humans.
A man and a woman.
Young.
Well, all humans were young by my standards, but these particular humans were flaunting their youth. Laughing and giggling, they were clearly in the throes of romance. I slipped back out of sight as they passed, and for a moment I began to pick up the scent of their blood. I quickly put aside all thought of feeding, of course. The days when I feasted indiscriminately upon the citizens of Paris were long over, and I knew the taste of blood would grant only a temporary reprieve.
I waited as their voices faded into the distance, and then I made my way around the corner. Still sticking to the shadows, avoiding the sunlight that risked burning my flesh, I saw the great mansion of Klaus Zieghoff up ahead. Somehow, it seemed fitting that my brother had holed up in such a place. After all, the Zieghoff mansion had once been the scene of some of the most barbaric and horrific nights in the city's long history.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chloe
“Chinese!” Jackson said later that evening, bringing the take-away bags through the front door. “Two Brits in Paris, eating Chinese food cooked by a bunch of Koreans. The world's a crazy place, huh?”
Setting some plates on the counter, I realized I could hear a high-pitched whistling sound again. I flinched, but if anything the sound was getting louder. Still, I told myself to ignore the sound, to pretend that it wasn't really there.
“And before I forget,” Jackson continued, setting the bags down and then handing some coins to me, “there's your change. See? I'm not like I used to be.”
“Sure,” I muttered, slipping the money into my pocket. To be honest, the smell of Chinese food was making me feel a little nauseous, but I figured I had to eat something. “Did you get the sauce?”
He sighed. “Damn it, I knew I'd forgotten something.”
“I'll pop down,” I told him, feeling as if I desperately needed to get some air. As soon as I headed to the door, however, he grabbed my arm and held me back.
“I'll go, Chloe. Wait here.”
“I think I want to clear my head,” I told him. “I'll be quick.”
“No,” he continued, clearly very keen to keep me in the apartment. “Really, I can't let you go out there, not after everything you've been through. I'll just pop down and back up again, you won't even notice I'm gone.”
“Can I at least come with you?” I asked. “One way or another, I really need to get out of here for a few minutes.”
He paused. “Sure,” he said finally, unable to hide his reluctance. “Yeah, sure, I guess that could work.”
***
The early evening Paris streets were as busy and loud as ever, but I could still hear that faint whistling sound in my ear as we made our way toward the take-out restaurant. I glanced over my shoulder a couple of times, wondering if I might see the source of the noise, but there was nothing.
“You okay?” Jackson asked, for the tenth time since we'd left my apartment.
“I'm fine,” I muttered, figuring that I didn't need to ask him if he could hear the sound. The last thing I wanted was to make him think I was even crazier. “It's nothing. Just ignore me.”
“You can be funny sometimes,” he replied, pulling me closer for a hug as we walked. “We need to get you back to London and get your head sorted. I think you're one of those people who doesn't function very well when she's away from home. You're London through and through, girl. Cut you in half like a stick of rock, and you'd have all the place-names stamped in your guts.”
“Maybe,” I said, forcing a smile.
The whistling sound was even louder now, as if it was becoming more urgent. By the time we reached the restaurant, I was struggling to hide my discomfort.
“I'll wait outside,” I told him, pulling away.
“Babe -”
“I'll be fine,” I continued, annoyed by his refusal to let me be alone for fiv
e seconds. “Just go inside and get the sauce.” I waited for him to go through the door, but he still seemed hesitant. “Please,” I added. “I'll be right here. You'll be able to see me through the window the whole time.”
He muttered something under his breath, before heading inside. I couldn't help noticing, however, that he was continually looking over his shoulder at me, almost as if he expected me to turn and run.
***
“And then I was thinking we could have an early night,” Jackson said later, once I'd finished clearing away the take-out boxes. “It's been a while since I slept in a proper bed.”
I offered a faint, non-committal smile, but in truth I was still struggling with the strange sound, which was slowly becoming more of a whine than a whistle. I couldn't help glancing around, trying to spot where it was coming from.
“Plus...” he added, stepping up behind me and putting his hands on my hips. After a moment, he kissed the back of my neck. “I've missed you, Chloe. You've gotta admit, it's been a while.”
Another kiss.
“Sure,” I muttered.
And another.
“Maybe I'll skip that shower,” he said softly.
A third kiss.
I flinched.
“Or you could join me.”
A fourth.
“Maybe we could start in the -”
“Not now!” I hissed, pulling away. I felt as if my skin was crawling, but when I turned to Jackson I realized I might have overreacted a little. “Take that shower,” I told him, hoping to buy some time. “I'll finish clearing up.”
He hesitated, before nodding and heading to the bathroom.
“Don't tire yourself out,” he called back to me. “That's my job!”
As soon as he was gone, I turned and looked out the window. I couldn't explain the tingling sensation that was rippling through my body, but I'd been feeling it on and off ever since the night with Belinda. It was almost as if some hidden force was reaching out and brushing against the edge of my thoughts, although I told myself I was still coming down from whatever weird trip had caused me to imagine all those crazy things.