The numa started in shock, his fingers digging painfully into my skin, and sputtered, “You wouldn’t. Not in front of a human!” He glanced toward Papy, whose startled expression revealed that, though he might not have heard the rest of the repartee, he had definitely registered the last few words.
“I would, actually. With pleasure,” Vincent replied, and brought the curved sword up into the light as he took a step toward us.
The numa staggered slightly back, dragging me with him. “Why would you risk exposing us and yourself . . . ,” he began to ask, his face contorted in confusion.
Vincent’s voice was as sharp as the steel in his hand. “Starting here and now, all rules are forgotten. On behalf of your kind, you just declared war.”
My captor weighed the situation. And then—just like that—he released his hold on me. Keeping a safe distance from Vincent’s blade, he moved toward his fallen partner, who had just begun to stir. Giving him a motivational kick, he shoved him toward the door. Pausing on the doorstep, he glared at me. “We will be seeing you again. Au revoir, Kate Mercier.” And with that, he followed his companion down into the street.
My grandfather sprang into action, slamming and dead-bolting the gallery door and pulling a thick curtain across the windows.
“What did they want?” Vincent asked urgently. He sheathed his sword and tucked it back under his coat.
“The guérisseur,” I whispered, suddenly feeling crippled by the thought that my actions—however well-meaning—had brought this upon us. Jules had been right. I had walked into their world and brought danger right back out with me.
Vincent saw my expression and reached for me, but froze as Papy’s sharp words echoed through the room. “Do not touch my granddaughter.” He approached us slowly. Carefully.
And there we stood in the low-lit gallery. Glowing dust motes spiraled upward, lit by the cracks of sunlight spilling in from the curtains’ edges. The three of us were motionless, staring at one another as the rows of ancient statues looked on. My grandfather’s face held an expression that was completely foreign to it. There was no kindness. No gentility. He stared coldly at Vincent as if he were a complete stranger.
Finally he spoke. “What are you?” The three words were crisp and concise and demanded a response.
Vincent’s eyes flickered to me. I saw how Papy was watching him and knew there wasn’t any way out. If Vincent’s sword hadn’t already alerted my grandfather that something was amiss, the numa had definitely exposed us with his words. I gave my head the slightest of nods.
“Revenant,” Vincent said, looking Papy straight in the eyes.
To my grandfather’s credit, he didn’t even flinch. “And those men who attacked Kate?”
“Numa.”
The word seemed to freeze in the air and hang suspended between the three of us before exploding on the arrow of Papy’s response. “Out.”
“Sir, I—” Vincent started, and at the same time I blurted, “But Papy—”
“Out!” My grandfather’s voice cut us off. “Get out of here. Out of my granddaughter’s life. How dare you expose Kate to mortal danger. How dare you bring these monsters through our door. Get out and stay out.”
“No!” I cried, and running to Papy, grabbed his arms and waited until his eyes lowered from Vincent to me. “Papy, no. Vincent’s . . .” All my arguments flashed through my mind and fell away as I realized that they were useless. Vincent was protecting me, or It’s already too late, the numa know who I am. Nothing I could say would convince Papy. Because he was right: I was in danger because of Vincent. I settled for one true statement—the only one that my grandfather couldn’t refute. “I love him.”
Papy freed his captive arms and wrapped them around me, hugging me as if he had lost me for years and then found me again. After a second, he held me away and said, tenderly but seriously, “Kate, you may think you love him. But he’s not even human.”
“He’s not the bad guy,” I insisted. “They are.”
Papy glanced over my head at Vincent, who hadn’t moved. “I know, darling. I know about them. At least I’ve studied them, along with every other mythical character that shows up in the ancient arts. Although I wasn’t convinced that they actually existed.” His voice became cold with this last statement, and I pulled away from him to face Vincent.
Vincent’s eyes—still locked in my grandfather’s gaze—looked hollow. “Kate, your grandfather’s right. My presence in your life has put you in danger.”
I felt like someone had grabbed me by the throat. “Stop it!” I yelled. “Both of you—stop right now.” I stomped my foot, and both men started as if I had slapped them. Now that I had their attention, I began to talk.