“It’s decided then. We’ll leave now. I’ll send for anything we might want later.” Lawrence gave her arms a little squeeze before letting go. “What about you two? Are you coming?”
“Of course.” Meg took a step closer to Amaia, grabbing hold of her hand.
“I go where she goes.” Liam gave a gruff nod toward Meg.
They ran straight through to Paris. The hours blurred together until Amaia looked out her bedroom window at Notre Dame lit by the setting sun. Here, she would be safe, even if she hadn’t been able to outrun those gray eyes. Eyes that even now stared at her through the rose of the great cathedral.
Chapter 10
Paris, May 1646
Every stone of Notre Dame was carved into her mind alongside every fleck in the irises of Michael’s eyes. It had been more than a day since she’d arrived in Paris, and she still sat at her window, staring ahead.
How had Michael appeared after all this time? He wasn’t a vampire; she would have felt it in his energy. Besides, he looked different. He hadn’t retained the same physical form he’d possessed when she had killed him. What then? A demon? A ghost? None of it made sense. All she knew was that he must be after her. Why else would he come to the same tavern she frequented with Meg and Liam? It had never occurred to her before that there might be other creatures who stalked the night. It made sense. She was a vampire; why wouldn’t there be other immortals?
She wasn’t safe. It was only a matter of time before he found her. If he still held his mortal memories, he might even think to look for her in Paris. She’d been foolish coming to the city they had once dreamed of running away to. She would have to kill him, but she didn’t know what he was.
Lawrence’s hand rested on top of Amaia’s shoulder. It offered comfort even though it was as cold as death, just as she was.
“Do you want to kill him?”
“What?” Amaia twisted around to look at Lawrence.
“That’s what you’ve been thinking of. Isn’t it? You’ve been staring out this window for the last day.”
“I don’t even know what he is. A demon? A ghost wouldn’t have had a physical body. Would it? What other kinds of monsters are out there?”
Lawrence laughed. “Is that what you’ve been thinking?”
“What else could he possibly be?”
“I assure you, we are the only creatures you need to worry about.” Lawrence stroked her hair, easing her fears. “There is nothing else out there, certainly nothing that can cause you harm.”
“Then what explanation is there?”
Lawrence sat beside her. “There are those who believe in reincarnation. I believe you’ve just uncovered the first proof of it.”
“Reincarnation?”
“Yes. In the East, they’ve believed in it for generations. There aren’t Christians there. They have a completely different religious system. I’ve suspected reincarnation is closer to the truth than Heaven and Hell. Given your sensitivity to energies, it’s not surprising that you’ve recognized one across lives. The only surprise is the amazing coincidence of it all. Though I suppose, given your closeness to Michael, you would be more tuned to his aura.”
“So you really think there is nothing more to it than that? He’s just a regular mortal?”
“Yes. Think back to when you saw him. Did his aura feel any different than other humans? Was there any indication that he wasn’t a mortal?”
Amaia looked past Lawrence, conjuring the memory. He was right. Nothing about Michael’s energy would lead her to believe he was anything but human. “None, other than his changed form.”
“There you have it. You have nothing to fear, my dear. You must simply decide how you want to handle the matter.”
“I don’t want to see him again, even to kill him.” Never mind that she saw his eyes everywhere. She didn’t want Lawrence knowing about the eyes, lest he perceive a weakness.
“It’s probably for the best. He was never a good influence on you. Seeing him can only lead to trouble. It’s all worked out rather well. Zenas has no problem with us remaining here, and you can resume your work with the cardinal.”
“You didn’t tell Zenas about Michael, did you?” The thought of that arrogant prick knowing she had fled from a mortal was unbearable.
“No. I simply told him we wanted to be back in Paris. After the information you gathered from the viscount, he has no further use for us in Vienna. There are benefits to being in his good graces.”
Amaia yearned for the day when Zenas’s opinion didn’t matter. Most of the time, it was easy to forget about Zenas, but being reminded of his omnipresence in her life always chafed her. “Thank you for arranging it all. I hate to be such a bother to you.” Lawrence, she actually cared for. His was the only opinion that mattered to her.