Elijah rolled his eyes. “What you are is delusional.”
“Mock if you wish, but I can tell you that you have been a fool not to tell Valla how you feel.”
Elijah stiffened in shock. Every demon in Paris might know that he was panting after the elusive, beautiful nymph like a werewolf in heat, but not a damned one of them would have the balls to mention it.
Certainly not to his face.
“That is none of your business,” he said between clenched fangs.
“No, but I believe that Valla has earned a chance to be happy.”
His brows jerked together. “I have every intention of making her happy.”
Levet gave a lift of his hands. “Not unless you convince her that you don’t consider her a burden.”
“A burden?” Elijah cast a brief glance toward the nearby door to Valla’s apartment, making sure she couldn’t overhear the bizarre conversation. “What the diable are you talking about?”
“She fears that you consider her to be just another responsibility that you must bear.”
Responsibility?
He’d all but gone on his knees to beg for a place in her life.
Hadn’t he?
With a strange lack of his usual grace, he walked toward a window that offered a glimpse of Valla straightening the pillows on her froufrou couch.
As always he was struck by the stunning beauty of her golden hair that haloed her delicate features and the wide, guileless blue eyes. And that lush body . . . mon dieu, he’d spent endless hours imagining the feel of those curves beneath him.
But at the same time he couldn’t deny a fierce urge to protect her.
She was so fragile. So exquisitely vulnerable. Had she mistaken his instinctive need to keep his mate from any possible harm with a sense of duty?
“That’s—” He gave a frustrated shake of his head. “How can she be so foolish?”
The gargoyle joined him near the window. “Have you given her reason to think she means more?”
Of course not, he wryly conceded. He was a male. He didn’t talk about his feelings. She was simply supposed to know what was in his heart.
“I need to speak with her,” he muttered, sending his companion a warning frown. “Alone.”
“Naturellement.”
CHAPTER 4
Waiting until the vampire had disappeared into the apartment, Levet squared his shoulders and marched out of the courtyard.
Bien. No more Monsieur Nice Guy.
He’d been caught off-guard by his sister and cousin.
Now that he was fully prepared, he wouldn’t be halted from his goal.
He had his courage firmly intact.
Oh, and he’d managed to “borrow” a disguise amulet he’d seen laying on Valla’s counter when she’d been busy making tea.
The tiny bit of gold was now hung around his neck by a leather string and would make him invisible to all but the most powerful witches.
This time, no one would sense he was coming.
Puffing out his chest, and spreading his wings, Levet took to the air, soaring over the city as he headed toward the Latin Quarter.
It was . . . stunning.
Even after he’d traveled around the world and seen some of the most spectacular sights to be found, there was nothing quite so beautiful as Paris at night.
At last reaching his destination, Levet carefully landed on the shadowed street, studying the Gothic church that was situated only a few blocks from the Seine.
Constructed in the sixth century on the site where a hermit had lived and prayed, the Church of Saint-Séverin was built in the shape of a long, narrow hall. It had a tower, along with ornately topped pillars and pointed, Romanesque arches for windows and doors.
Tourists came to admire the Gothic architecture and to stroll through the gardens, or even to enjoy the Greek restaurant just down the street. But the pièce de résistance was the gargoyles who had stood guard for centuries.
During the daylight hours all gargoyles turned to stone. Unlike Levet, however, most were capable of altering their shape which meant that even the largest demon could shrink down to fit on the side of a building. What better place to hide from the humans than in plain sight?
At night they came out to play.
And pillage and plunder and create all-around mayhem among the demon world.
Usually they left the humans alone....
Usually.
Realizing that he was delaying the inevitable, Levet squared his shoulders and headed into the church. He didn’t pause to admire the peaceful beauty of the nave, instead heading directly toward the bay door that opened into the garden that had once been a graveyard.
He was here with a purpose. Why the purpose had suddenly become so important . . .
He gave a sharp shake of his head.
Bah, that was a question for later.
Bypassing the long galleries that had been reconstructed to their medieval glory, he headed toward the very back of the garden. At last reaching the spot he was searching for, he sucked in a deep, steadying breath.
Only when he was mentally prepared did he step through the illusion that hid the ancient stone building.