My Midnight Moonlight Valentine

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My Midnight Moonlight Valentine Page 13

by J. J. McAvoy


  “I understand a bit in other ways. But I don’t know why they would try to break down a community that they could have been in together?” I replied.

  “Why do we ever?” Lucy asked gently, lifting her head high. “Out of fear and self-preservation.”

  “I feel your bitterness in that observation, but should your kind have proven to be able to control themselves, there would not be persecution,” Theseus said to her, and she looked away. When he looked at me, he finished. “The witches of the Kahnawá:ke were actively keeping and protecting vampires; thus, they had more power. When war broke out to determine who would own these lands, the Kahnawá:ke stood strong, but with each grave insult or preserved slight from the other, they broke down. The witches turned on the vampire king and his family; the vampires retaliated and with that their kingdom fell. Ever since then, power has switched between hands. Now, it is the Swans who have the greatest claims because of the Kahnawá:ke in their family.”

  “You say that as if you expect us to lose power,” Taelon said as the plane touched the ground.

  “You are a republic, are you not? It is by your own design that you will lose power one day.” Theseus pushed back, and Taelon just shook his head before looking to me.

  “What kind of soul are you that this is your mate for all eternity?”

  “I haven’t agreed to mate him.”

  “A stubborn, inquisitive, combative, and a tad bit endearing, but mostly a wearisome soul,” Lucy answered him seriously.

  Grinning I got up as the rest of them did and linked arms with her. “You think I’m endearing?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Did you block out the rest of the words I said?”

  “You said something else? All I heard was endearing.” I grinned at her.

  “Fine, should I repeat it?”

  “Nope, I think we’re good,” I said, quickly letting her go.

  Her dark eyes glowered at me before she looked at the men standing and waiting in front of us. She was the smallest of us all, but the way Taelon looked at her, you’d think she’d taken up the whole room and blinded him. When he noticed me staring, he regained his composure and looked at Theseus.

  “She must ride with you.” His voice was softer. “As she is your guest.”

  Theseus nodded, not explaining why, and I didn’t want to ask. Instead, I followed them toward the front of the cabin. The pilots and the stewards were already out and waiting. Lucy waited for me to walk first, when I did, the pilots and the stewards bowed their head in a show of respect to me, but they ignored her, and I had to put effort into not scowling.

  “What is it?” Lucy asked as I stared back at them over her head. Her eyes told me she understood but was more annoyed with me for bringing attention to it.

  “Nothing.” I walked down the stairs.

  Just like when we left the museum, there were luxury cars waiting. At the front of the line, there were two flags, one for Canada and the other that double swan, on a half white and red flag. We weren’t at an airport but a private airfield. In the distance, I could see Mount Royal and the city at the base of it.

  Theseus held the back door for me, and Taelon held the front passenger seat for Lucy. Sliding into the back of the Mercedes Benz, I took a seat behind her, and he followed beside me. He took my hand, but instead of kissing it like normal, he wrote four letters on my palm followed by a question mark.

  “Gift?”

  I nodded and did my best to write back. “On plane.”

  Theseus nodded, his face not betraying any emotion. Then he rested back into the seat as the driver, a woman this time, started the car. He didn’t let go of me, and for some reason, I felt the urge to lean against him. But I ignored it and focused my attention outside. As we drove, I couldn’t help but go full-tourist mode. I’d always seen people taking selfies in front of the capital or just going crazy for gift shops, buying random things they never would buy at home simply because they had Washington D.C. written on them. But looking out the window, I wanted one of everything. I couldn’t eat it, but I wanted to take a picture in front of the fresh bread shop we passed. There were no gift stores on the cobblestone streets, but I was certain that I could find something with the word Montréal on it.

  “Lucy,” Theseus spoke, getting her attention and mine. “Will you take Druella shopping? She does not have her things here. And you know as well as I do, there is never a dull night among Nobles, especially the ruling class.”

  I glanced down at the black dress and black cardigan I still wore.

  “Should we go now?” Lucy questioned.

  He glanced at me. “Do you want to go now? You will need things here, Druella.”

  “What about you?”

  “I must speak to President Swan as well as get in contact with my family. I prefer to keep you from all the politics of our kind for a little longer. I know you’ll be safe in the city, especially at night. As we are guests, President Snow will assure it, out of principle alone. You may not be comfortable not having the things you need,” he explained, and I didn’t need to think about it; he was right.

  I had basically fled with the clothes on my back. But even still. “It wouldn’t be rude if I didn’t go see this president first?”

  “You are a Thorbørn,” he started to say. When he saw my expression, he said, “You are whom a Thorbørn intends to mate. There is no such thing as rudeness; besides, I have already said I will meet him, with no offense, I am sure he is more interested in me than you.”

  Of course, who was I but a baby vampire? It seemed Theseus was the real attraction. “Fine. But I’m sure there is such a thing as rudeness, but they just don’t say it to your face.”

  “Exactly,” he said proudly, making me smile.

  I was doing that a lot—smiling—looking to Lucy, who was just watching us somewhat bored with our conversation, I asked, “Do you mind?”

  “I am your guest, of course, I don’t. Plus, I need things, too. Here is a good place,” she answered, pointing to a shop called 72 Rue de la Pompe. It looked like a French version of Rodeo Drive. The sign above the Cartier star shined like a diamond in the night sky as we pulled off at the street corner. When we did, the car in front of us did a few cars up, as well.

  Stepping out on the street corner, a few people glanced toward us—the strange, beautiful creatures out wearing nothing but light sweaters as snow fell. But the minute they saw the flag, they seemed to come under some sort of understanding because they stopped gawking and just went on their way as if nothing were strange anymore.

  “The humans here—”

  “Have lived alongside the strange and supernatural for generations. It’s the biggest city in Quebec, and almost everyone knows the Swan family—human, witch, and vampire alike,” Lucy answered before I could ask the question.

  Taelon came over to us flanked by two men dressed in black.

  “They wish to shop,” Theseus said to him.

  “You suggested shopping,” I said quickly, not liking how he put it.

  “Since you beat me to the suggestion, I must pay for it.” Taelon grinned, all too happy to reach into his wallet and pull out a blank card which I didn’t really think existed, handing it over to Lucy.

  “I have my own money.” I reached for my nonexistence purse, which I could now see sitting on my desk in the lab…in Washington.

  “You know how in the movies the girl meets a rich guy who insists on paying for everything, but she insists that he doesn’t buy her anything too crazy?” Lucy asked me.

  “Yes.” I remembered how many times I had read that in books.

  “Please, don’t be that girl.” She happily took the card before turning back to Theseus. “Anything you want her to get?”

  He just stared at me.

  “Speak now or forever hold your peace,” Lucy said to him.

  “A
dress for dinner…silk. I do not care about the color.”

  Lucy nodded and looked at me. “Let’s go.”

  I looked at Taelon. “What kind of soul are you that this is your mate for all eternity?”

  He chuckled in return and glanced at Lucy. “Do you have a reply for this one, too, madam?”

  “It’s already eight; we should get started.” She avoided his question, looking at me with her eyes wide, which only caused him to grin and shake his head.

  “Charline, please take care of them.” He spoke to the woman who had been driving us. She was a little taller than Lucy but not quite my height with curly, chestnut-brown hair that stopped at her shoulders. Her eyes were a deep honey color, and she wore all black just like Taelon’s men.

  “Druella,” Taelon said. “This is Charline a Bonsaint. While I trust Lucy will be able to get you anything you need, Charline is here to assist you as well.”

  “Ugh, thanks.” I nodded to him, not sure why I would need a personal assistant. For some reason, I felt like she was annoyed with me.

  However, I pushed it to the back of my mind when Theseus walked forward, stopping between Taelon and me. He reached up and brushed back my curls. “Though you’re safer here, you still must be safe. We shall speak later.”

  I nodded.

  “Where would you like to start?” Lucy asked, glancing around. “They won’t leave until we move first.”

  And sure enough, they were waiting.

  “The bakery,” I said, causing her to turn her head to me in confusion. “Yes, yes, I know, but let’s at least pretend to be normal.”

  “Normal for whom though?” Lucy frowned.

  Rolling my eyes, we began walking, waving back to Theseus and Taelon. It didn’t take Lucy much effort to catch up to me. The bakery’s name was, Pierre É Paradis. It was bright pink with yellow lights that beat down on the baked goods in the storefront. Human food still smelled good; it just tasted like hot, molding garbage. Even still, I couldn’t help but stare in wonder at all the treats when we stepped into the shop. The owner, an older man, smiled and started speaking joyfully to us in French.

  Lucy shook her head, completely uninterested, deflating the pour man’s heart.

  “Can you tell him I want two of each of these.” I pointed to the cookies and croissants. “And I want two large, hot chocolates.”

  “Why?” she asked.

  “Haven’t you ever seen those movies where two girlfriends go out shopping and taking pictures of their food together? I never had any close girlfriends, so I don’t want to miss the moment. I’m sure you don’t have any girlfriends, either.”

  “I do not need girlfriends. I am my own friend,” she muttered.

  “Oh, that’s so sad, please don’t be that girl.”

  “Which girl?”

  “The fake mean girl,” I shot back. “Come on, help me order, please.”

  She rolled her eyes before turning to the baker and repeating what I asked for. Pleased, he said something about us both, making Lucy nod as if she’d heard it a million times before.

  “What did he say?”

  “Never have such beauties graced his store before.”

  She had most likely heard that a million times before. She gave him the card, and he gave her the bag of goodies and a cup holder for the drinks. I bit my lip when she had to stand on her tiptoes to reach his higher counter. I wanted to help, but the moment she heard me step forward, her head whipped back like a demented doll, and she glared at me. Raising my hands in surrender, I stepped back.

  With both of her feet on the ground, she handed me the drinks and my treats, and then she signed the receipt.

  “Merci!” I said, lifting him.

  “Merci, revenez nous voir,” he said back.

  I looked at Lucy to translate.

  “He said, thank you, come again,” she repeated, walking to the door where our personal bodyguard and driver stood waiting. Charline’s eyes weren’t on us but everything that moved in the distance.

  “Okay wait, where is your phone?” I asked, handing her one of the drinks. She took it but didn’t seem to understand why I needed her phone. “We’re going to take a selfie.”

  “Dru,” she sighed in annoyance.

  “Just one, indulge me this once. Who knows when I’ll get to come back again.”

  “Whenever you like. You are the mate of Theseus Thorbørn,” she snapped, and I just gave her a look.

  “We’re taking the selfie, Lucy even if you are growling at me the whole time. We have no pictures together, and we are supposed to be friends,” I said to her.

  With a heavy frown, she came over and unlocked her phone, holding it up. “My arm isn’t long enough.”

  “Mine is.” I took it from her, bending down a bit and quickly took the picture—well, rapid-fire picture—holding up the hot chocolate.

  “One of those has to be good,” I said, beginning to scroll.

  “Why are you like this?” she questioned.

  I glanced up from the phone, and she wasn’t glaring or annoyed but just blank-faced. “You do realize I have been spying on you. That I haven’t been very honest or forthcoming with you. And yet, you insist I come on the plane with you, that I am your guest, and that on top of that, now I am your friend whom you want photos with. Why? Are you trying to become a saint?”

  “Because when I was lonely and scared, you were the first person there,” I answered without needing to think, and that seemed to surprise her. “I was scared. Really, really scared. And you were there. You weren’t the nicest, but you explained things to me. You helped me get cleaned up, and you always answered when I called. You taught me how to be okay. You didn’t have to do all of that to spy on me. Even if you did, it doesn’t take away from the fact that you helped me. You were a friend as Mrs. Old Lady Ming. You are still my friend as this young K-pop star.”

  The mask on her face broke a bit. “Which K-Pop star?”

  “Oh my God, you are so vain.” I

  “I know.” She said as we turned to walk.

  “That’s why I came to this country to begin with.”

  “What?”

  She nodded, taking the drinks from my hands and setting them beside a homeless woman as she slept in a ball on the street. I put down the bake goods before we kept walking.

  “I came here when I was seventeen to make it in Hollywood; it was 1924. Only, I didn’t make it,” she answered as we walked down the sidewalk toward a shop called Lefèbvre, across the street. “I was killed six years later, leaving my shift as a waitress in a Calabasas Chinese restaurant.”

  “What happened?” I whispered as we stepped inside the brightly lit store, where a clerk came up to us.

  Lucy spoke, waving her hand at a whole section of racks, all of them with names of designer brands attached. Their eyes went wide, but they just nodded. Another clerk came forward to usher us to two large purple velvet chairs.

  “We’ll start with heels,” she said, already taking off her ankle boots.

  Nodding, I sat down to do the same.

  When they started to bring over boxes, Lucy sat on the edge of her seat and picked one. “It wasn’t horrid or overly dramatic. It’s actually very pitiful.”

  “What wasn’t?”

  “My death,” she said to me, and I glanced to the clerks who were watching our feet at the ready. “I locked up for work like every other day. The Depression was hitting. It wasn’t raining, but it was a bit windy, so I held on to my jacket. And as I walked home, I crossed the street, and I was hit by a car—light, tiny me went flying. There was no ambulance in our part of town then. Most of them thought I had died on impact, but I was alive just barely. A kind man offered to take my body to the morgue…You are not trying on shoes Druella.”

  The speed in which she switched tops left me so stunned, a
ll I could do was pick up a box, which was a nine and a half. How she or they knew, I wasn’t sure, but I pulled out the stilts they called heels. “Am I supposed to walk in these our use them as a weapon?”

  “I’ve seen you walk in heels before.”

  “Nothing over three and half inches or else I feel like an amazon.” I laughed but took off my shoes and tired them on, following her conversation. “Was it Taelon that saved you?”

  “No, it was actually my boss.” She lifted her foot to twist it from side to side. “I also joked that he could be a model. He was just too handsome to be a restaurant owner. I even told him to go back to China to make it. However, he loved California. He still loves California and lives there working at that same damn Chinese restaurant. He’s the real Mr. Ming.”

  “So, he changed you? Without asking?” I whispered.

  “He knew me,” she replied, looking to me. “He knew I didn’t want to die. Not like that. Not some sad woman no one would remember, who thought she could be more and ended up like the rest.”

  “But now as a Lesser blood.”

  “It is no worse than being a Korean immigrant in California, during the beginning of the Great Depression.” She nodded to the clerks for the shoes on our feet.

  “At least I understand why Lesser bloods are treated as we are. It took a lot of time and effort between my father and me. He’s a Lesser blood, too. I think it’s because he cared about me, plus the years of control he battled with that I didn’t give into drinking from me. He taught me how to ration myself, to fight the thirst, and how to be around humans—how to exist. I stayed there, working in that restaurant. Then one day, ten years after my rebirth, Taelon Swan came in to do a census. My father called me out of the back kitchen to meet the president’s son.” She smirked to herself, clearly enjoying the memory.

  “And?” I leaned in when she stopped talking.

  She shrugged, looking really happy for the first time. “I just said hi, and he said hi…then he just kept coming to the restaurant to work.”

 

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