Red Angel (The Angels of Paris Chronicles Book 2)

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Red Angel (The Angels of Paris Chronicles Book 2) Page 4

by Anna Santos


  I narrowed my eyes with suspicion. “Who’s joining us?”

  Dad smiled as he answered, “Philippe, the young man who invited us to the opera the other day. He called us to see if everything was okay and asked if we could have dinner with him tonight. Since he wasn’t doing anything before then, I invited him to join us. He’s an educated young man, don’t you think? Polite and intelligent. Did you know that we’re going to visit his vineyard?”

  “When?”

  We had been together until a few days ago. Philippe moved quickly to get my parents’ attention.

  “Day after tomorrow. Steve and Samantha plan to join us. Gabby’s also coming with her boyfriend. Do you want to come with us?”

  I smoothed my hair down as I muttered, “I’m not sure if I’m free.”

  “I don’t want you to stay home alone.”

  “I’ll be with Cedric,” I stated, only to regret it. “I mean, we have a date. He’s going to take me to see a movie.”

  “Okay then.”

  Gabby rushed to us and said between gasps, “Uncle George, Sean told us to go the other way around. They found another entrance for us to use. Philippe knows one of the curators, and we can skip the line. Come on, Aria.”

  My cousin dragged me by my arm as my heart raced with the probability of seeing Philippe again. I didn’t know if it was fear or something else. Regardless, I was livid because I wouldn’t have come if I’d known he was going to be here. Everything seemed like a huge trap be alone with me. Maybe I was being paranoid. He had called Dad after Dad had invited me to go to the Louvre with them. Dad had said he’d invited Philippe himself and not the other way around. Since it was daytime, I thought I was safe from seeing him. I guess I was wrong.

  “Dad, did Philippe know I was going to come?”

  My dad furrowed his eyebrows at me. “He didn’t want to come; he just wanted to invite us to have dinner with him. Your mom was really excited to learn that he owned a lot of elegant restaurants. So he wants to show us his new restaurant. He’s such a nice man. An entrepreneur. It’s really nice that his dad decided to sponsor your mom.”

  “Okay.”

  Sighing, I played with a strand of my hair that I rolled around my finger, following Gabby who, apparently, knew the way.

  “I love what you’ve done to your hair; it’s really pretty like this,” Dad said.

  I smiled.

  “I didn’t notice before. When did you dye your hair?”

  “A while ago. Cedric likes it.”

  “Yes…but do you like it?”

  “Yes, I like it a lot.”

  “You look beautiful, Aria. Even if you still wear those cute T-shirts,” he said, pointing at my favorite T-shirt with the Batman logo on it that I had chosen specifically for meeting up with my parents. Cedric had found it cool. Plus, jeans and a T-shirt matched perfectly and made me feel comfortable.

  After a couple more minutes of walking, we arrived at an alternate entrance that was supposed to be for letting the staff in.

  The door opened, and Sean appeared to let us in. As I was looking around, I realized that Philippe was not far behind. He stood in the corridor, staring at me in his plain mortal clothes of jeans and a shirt with a rather tired-looking face.

  His eyes sparkled when they met mine. I felt my heart stop beating and my mouth got dry. I didn’t even hear what my dad and mom were saying, I just walked like a zombie behind them with Gabby pulling my arm. Apparently, she was afraid I might get lost. Maybe it was a weird response to the fact that she’d left me alone once when we’d gone out together, and I’d ended up in the river. Either way, she was friendly and enthusiastic to have me around.

  The inside of the museum was too noisy. I tried to concentrate on anything other than Philippe. But the beating of my heart drummed in my ears and my feet seemed heavy as I walked. Gabby pulled me to another area, and we were suddenly in one of the Louvre’s corridors together with the other tourists.

  My breathing stopped momentarily as my eyes wandered around. I wasn’t looking at the paintings. My stare was on the incredible ceilings, the walls, and the huge windows. We were inside of an ancient palace and it was astonishing. A dream come true!

  “You haven’t said hello to Philippe,” my mom remarked, siding up next to me to point out my rude behavior.

  In my defense, it wasn’t on purpose. I hadn’t noticed when the others were greeting each other. When I looked around, Philippe was in a corner, away from the sunrays that were touching the floor. It wasn’t wise of him to be here. I frowned at that thought. Why is he here? The obvious answer was scary enough. I didn’t know how to act around him. Acting silly and shy was not an option, like it had been the first time we’d met when he’d made a fool out of me. I was going to act polite, at least, so my parents wouldn’t get embarrassed and think their daughter was rude.

  I moved closer to him as I focused on the view outside. I folded my arms under my breasts. “So I’m supposed to tell you hello, and I guess thank you for finding us a way in.”

  Those were the words I used to start a conversation. It might have sounded funny and quirky, if we’d been part of some comedy movie, but this was real life and it was awkward enough just to engage in a conversation with him.

  “You’re welcome,” he said.

  I kept my eyes on the view outside. “Aren’t you supposed to be sleeping inside your coffin to wait for nightfall?”

  “I don’t sleep in a coffin,” he replied. “And as long as the direct light doesn’t touch me, I’m okay.”

  “That must suck,” I declared as his words made me incomprehensibly sad.

  “We get used to it.”

  Diverting my attention to my shoes, I rubbed my hands against my jeans. “So you can’t see Paris by day. That’s a shame because it’s beautiful.”

  “I know. I’ve seen it in pictures and on TV. But Paris is also beautiful by night.”

  “I can’t say much because I’ve barely seen it,” I said, chewing on my bottom lip.

  Looking around, I noticed that my parents were talking and motioning to the décor while Gabby and Sean were busy sharing secrets.

  It’s going to be a long day. Everybody was paired off, and I could be, too, if I’d be dumb enough to be see the museum with Philippe.

  “Doesn’t Cedric take you out?”

  “Yes.” I slumped my shoulders. “Well, things have been complicated with the vampire attacks.”

  “Yes, it’s not safe for you to go out at night,” he agreed. “And during the day?”

  “I’m a bit busy trying to control my powers.”

  “That’s understandable.” He paused, and I could feel his stare burning holes in me. My cheeks turned red. “Do you want me to show you the place or not?”

  I stared at him. “Did you compel my parents to bring me here for you to see me?”

  He shook his head with an apparently innocent expression. “No.”

  “Then it was all an unhappy coincidence,” I remarked.

  “Your dad invited me to come. I…wanted to see you.”

  “You were lucky that Cedric had some stuff to do or he would be here.”

  “I’m not afraid of Cedric. I don’t know where you got that idea,” he said, putting his hands in his pockets. “If we declare a truce for a while, will you let me show you around this place?”

  “I don’t need your help.”

  I turned my back on him and followed my parents. They were trying to read a map about the museum to find out where we were and where we needed to go to see the exhibitions.

  “If you’ll let me be your guide, I can take you wherever you want to go,” Philippe said to my parents, who raised their eyes from the map and smiled at him.

  “We would love to,” my mom said.

  Mom and I knew that my dad was a terrible person when it came to finding his way around a map. Sighing, I glanced at Philippe, who had a pretentious smirk on his face. He knew I had to endure him and listen to what he had to
say. I had promised to behave, so I didn’t protest. Instead, I grabbed my phone to take some photos of my favorite displays.

  I would probably have a sore neck the next day because I couldn’t stop looking at the ceilings and the amazing works of art that were hanging on the walls. It was breathtaking. The whole place smelled of wood and oils. Plus, it was a freaking labyrinth! One could get lost inside and only be discovered after being mummified if the guards weren’t alert to find stray visitors. Getting lost in a museum was another of my biggest fears, after heights. And it didn’t help to think that things could come alive during the night. That was not a reassuring thought.

  I grabbed my mom’s arm like when I was small and followed them, trying to escape the bumping bodies of immobile tourists taking pictures and neglecting to actually see the wondrous things. Some people lived behind their cameras. Their vacations were a bunch of photographs that they took of dead nature and posing figures, so they could brag on their online profiles to their friends. Actually, seeing and being moved by the work and the patience that had gone into creating these pieces of art didn’t seem to be fashionable anymore. People would rather have a picture than a memory of being there.

  An hour later, we were asking Philippe questions to find out more. One could think he had worked there for a long time as a tourist guide. I’d succumbed to my curiosity and was extremely inquisitive about everything that I didn’t know. My mom’s arm was a long-time forgotten. I was next to Philippe, and he was indulging my curiosity. He actually let me see things and was patient. Gabby wasn’t; she didn’t want to waste so much time staring at a painting. Her goal was to see the jewels and the fancy clothes. She wasn’t being mean, she simply had other tastes, and she had been to that side of the Louvre plenty of times before. It wasn’t something new to her.

  There were so many things to see that I doubted we could see everything even in two days. I had to come back the next day. I didn’t care what Cedric would say. I wanted to see the rest, take pictures, and read the informative points that I hadn’t read yet. Tagging along with Philippe wasn’t that bad either. He was a fountain of knowledge. I guess he’d been there a lot of times and had studied about it. I don’t know how he knew so much about the paintings and the statues we saw. But he was a walking encyclopedia—or rather, a louvrepedia.

  When I noticed, my parents had totally bailed on us, and I was alone with Philippe talking about the pages of the Shahnameh—an epic book of poems by Ferdowsi in Persian. My knowledge about it was minimal, so it was rather enticing to listen to Philippe explaining it to me. I had no idea why he had so much information about Persian history. Yet it was cool to learn about another culture that was a bit of an enigma to me.

  I spun around, trying to figure out where my parents were. Philippe followed me, and when I turned around, I bumped into him.

  “Hey, Peter Pan’s shadow, can you stop following me?” I teased him. “Look for them on the other side,” I demanded, motioning the other way and circling the place to see if they were there or if they had actually left me behind with Philippe.

  Moments later, I saw them. Smooching and cuddling like a couple of teens. I rolled my eyes and shook my head. Then, I sighed and moved back to find Philippe.

  “Have you found them?” he asked, arching an eyebrow when he saw me coming.

  “Yes, I saw them,” I replied.

  Philippe moved forward, and I grabbed him by the arm before he could bump into them.

  “I don’t think you want to go that way,” I warned.

  He stopped with a puzzled stare.

  Sighing, I explained, “They’re doing it again.”

  “What?”

  “Behaving like teens and making out in a corner,” I complained.

  I regretted saying it, and I felt my cheeks heating up.

  Smirking, he asked, “And what’s wrong with that?”

  I stared at him with a bored face and folded arms.

  “They’re my parents,” I argued, as if it were a plausible answer.

  “And?”

  “I don’t need to be constantly reminded of how I ended up here in this world. It’s a miracle that I’m an only child. Seriously, I don’t need to watch them do that,” I said.

  Philippe laughed, completely amused.

  I looked at him, not understanding what was so funny.

  “I think it’s cute.”

  Frowning, I asked, “What’s cute?”

  “That they’re still in love. How many couples do you know that are in love after a couple of years?”

  “How the hell should I know? I’m eighteen,” I reminded him.

  “Your age doesn’t make you ignorant to things, Aria. You’re a smart and observant girl. Plus, your parents are still young. They have a lot more to live for.”

  “I know that,” I grumbled as I turned my back to him. “I’m going back to make sure they aren’t being arrested for public displays of affection.”

  “I think they’re safe,” he said, holding me by my hand and not letting me run away from him.

  I froze in place.

  “France doesn’t have rules against that, even if we are in the Islamic Art Gallery.”

  I turned to face him. Was he being funny? “Do they have a penalty for trying to kill a soulmate?” I regretted my question, but I kept my expression neutral.

  “I’ve already told you that I didn’t order your death.” He spoke low and softly. “I deeply regret what happened to you.”

  I felt conflicted, but I didn’t let my guard down. “Oh! Then I guess that’s okay. No harm done, right?” I asked, freeing my hand and leaving his side.

  I could only hope that he would leave me alone.

  I had no such luck. In mere moments, he was next to me, following me around as I looked for my parents.

  Suddenly, I realized that I was lost, and they were nowhere to be found.

  “I hope they didn’t ditch us. It’ll be insane trying to find them in the crowd,” I complained, thankful that I wasn’t alone. “I hate this!”

  The softening sound of his voice reached me again. “What do you hate?”

  I gulped, trying to control my frustration. “I hate when they disappear.”

  “Do they do this often?”

  “Well, no, but…hmm…sometimes. My parents have the nasty habit of forgetting about me. It’s maddening. They don’t do it on purpose. It’s annoying nevertheless. I hate being an only child! It’s boring when we go somewhere and they spend their time speaking about their stuff. And I’m old enough to know that I shouldn’t monopolize my dad and let him do stuff with Mom.”

  “Try to calm down, Aria.”

  I stared at him, unamused. “That’s not helpful.”

  “You don’t need to be sad. We’ll find them, and you aren’t alone. I’m here with you. I won’t let you out of my sight, and we can always phone them to find out where they are.”

  “That’s true,” I said, sighing with relief.

  I should have thought about that sooner before I’d acted like a scared little kid.

  “Come.” Philippe motioned for me to follow him down the corridor. “Did they ever forget about you somewhere?”

  “Well,” I said, trailing behind him, “Mom says that my dad had the tendency to forget about me when he took me to my mom’s rehearsals at the theater.”

  “Really? Where?”

  “In my stroller. Mom said that I would be extremely quiet listening to them play, and Dad would forget that I was even there. So they would leave, only to realize that I had been left behind. Guess I should have cried more when I was a baby.”

  “That’s…crazy!”

  I shrugged. “I’ve always been quiet, and they brainwashed me with classical music since conception.”

  “That’s cool.”

  I glimpsed at him, catching his grin. “It could be worse. They’re nice parents.”

  “You’re extremely lucky. Your parents are amazing and they love you very much.”
r />   “I guess. Your parents…” I shut up because I was going to make a huge mistake.

  I bit my lip, uncomfortable I’d brought up the subject. If something was taboo, it was probably his family issues.

  Philippe looked at me with a peaceful expression.

  “Never mind.” I shrugged and grabbed his arm. “Let’s see something else. They can call us when they’re done hiding.” I pushed him down the corridor.

  With a smile, he asked, “Where do you want to go now?”

  “I want to see the Rembrandt paintings.”

  We halted as he asked, “Not the Venus de Milo or some other famous pretentious work of art?”

  “No, the Rembrandt paintings,” I insisted.

  “Because of the painting of the Angel Raphael?”

  “Because they’re interesting, and I want to see them. And because I want to see more of the Palace.”

  His eyes became pensive as he gazed down at me. I was smaller than him and my hands were wrapped tightly around his arm. I would have blushed, but my cheeks were already red. Instead, I released my grip and smoothed my T-shirt down as I walked to the floor plan of the museum on the wall.

  “Then, we should go to the Sully Wing. The Département des Objets d’Art is really fascinating. You’ll love the French furniture, the decorative bronzes, the snuff boxes, and the scientific instruments.”

  “Huh? What scientific instruments?” I asked, turning around to watch him.

  “Just some old watches and a couple of barometers. There are also jewels and porcelains to see. Oh, and some creepy beds much scarier than coffins.”

  I giggled at his last words. “If there are jewels and fancy furniture, maybe we’ll find Gabby and Sean there.”

  “Maybe. Not that I miss them,” he said.

  I laughed.

  Philippe’s hand landed on my back as we headed down.

  “Don’t get me wrong. Your cousin is friendly, but she’s also pretty shallow and annoying.”

  “She just likes other stuff, that’s all. But she can be a bit self-centered. You two have that in common.”

  I felt sorry for teasing him again. Yet Phillipe smirked without refuting my assertion. Intriguing. Maybe he thought that it was a compliment.

 

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