A Darkness Strange and Lovely (Something Strange and Deadly #2)(62)

Daniel flipped to the index. “I don’t know what Napoleon would have to do with grimoires, but we might as well . . .” He trailed off.

“What?” I asked.

“It is here. One page about Le Dragon Noir. Page fifty-seven.” He thumbed through until he found the right page, and then we both read the passage.

“Here.” I tapped the middle paragraph and haltingly tried to translate. “‘Many Egyptians . . . thought Napoleon had a necromancer . . .’”

“‘But,’” Daniel said, following along, “‘there was never’—I don’t know what that word is.”

“Me neither, but look here.” My eye caught on a paragraph further down on the page—on a French phrase I knew well. “‘The soldier,’” I continued translating, “‘who was famous for . . . for discovering

Le Dragon Noir was a known necromancer.’” I straightened. “Does that mean the grimoire was found in Egypt?”

“Sure sounds like it. And look: the soldier’s name is Jacques Girard.”

“Monsieur Girard!” I snatched the letters off the table and found the last one, sent from Egypt. But my shoulders drooped as I read aloud, “‘Monsieur Girard was not home today. I fear I wrote the wrong address. If I cannot find him, then I will have no choice but to find the pages.’”

“Huh,” Daniel said. “It could mean something or it could just be someone with the same last name.”

I groaned.

Daniel shot me a concerned look. “Don’t get frustrated, Empress. Why don’t we head back to the hotel now? I’ll have the librarian send the books to the lab.”

I nodded, too tired to worry about Jie—or Joseph—waiting for me at Le Meurice. While Daniel dealt with the books, I wearily gathered up my letters and considered this latest information. Elijah wrote that he needed pages. Those had to be the missing pages from Le Dragon Noir. The ones that had been displayed at the Centennial Exhibition—and the whole reason Elijah had even come back to

Philadelphia all those months ago.

There was some other connection here, though. Something I was missing.

But at least I could be certain of one thing: whatever was hiding in these letters, I was going to find it. Even if it meant consulting Oliver on it. Yes, it was time to share the messages with my demon.

Daniel and I left the library, moving as slowly as when we had come, but now it was different—

now I wanted the moments to drag by. Soon enough we would reach the hotel. Reach Jie and

Joseph . . . and reach the truth.

But not yet. For now I could still wrap myself in this. In Daniel.

As we ambled past the chestnut-lined square, I suddenly realized something. “Daniel!” I yanked him to a stop. “We did none of your research! I’m so sorry—I took over all of your time.”

He smiled shyly. “I didn’t actually have any research to do, Empress. I just wanted to . . . Here, come with me.” He pulled me into the square and over the grass to the fountain’s edge. As the water poured out from the bronze women’s vases, he slowed to a stop and angled himself toward me. “Will you be at the ball tomorrow night?”

“Yes,” I said slowly. “Why do you ask?”

He shrugged one shoulder, gulping furiously. When he didn’t say anything for several moments, I said, “Is that all you wan—”

“I need to apologize,” he blurted.

My eyebrows shot up. “Oh?”

“I shouldn’t have been so rude this morning. In front of the hotel.” His eyes flicked down.

“Although you were the one to lose your temper.”

“Lose my temper? I only lost it after you . . .” I let my words fade. His lips were twitching up. “Oh, I see. You’re teasing me.”

He reached out and popped my chin with his thumb.

I gave a mock gasp. “How dare you, sir! Touch me again, and I shall call the foxes.”

“Foxes? As in the police?” He fought off a laugh—and failed. “I never pegged you for such criminal language, Empress.”

I rolled my eyes. “And I’m not as highfalutin as you might think.”

“Listen to you! ‘Highfalutin.’” He whistled through his teeth. “Next thing I know, you’ll be swearing and spitting.”

“Only because I learned it from you.” I gave him a superior smile. “And if anyone here is highfalutin, it’s you, Daniel Sheridan.” I grabbed hold of his monocle and tugged it to my eye—but of course it was laced around his neck, and I wound up tugging him to me too.

My heart stopped. His face was only inches from mine. I could feel his breath, gently brushing my cheeks. I could see every line in his jaw and every shade in his lips—and oh, his lips. They were so close.

“Eleanor.” His voice was faint and rough. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

“Yes?” I dragged my eyes from his lips and met his gaze.

It almost undid me. I could see the longing in them—see the desire in the way his pupils widened and shrank in time to his breathing.

“That night in the hospital, when you asked me if I—”

“Eleanor!” a voice roared.

As one, our heads whipped toward the sound. Stalking toward Daniel and me, his cheeks bright and his eyes glossy, was none other than Oliver. “Eleanor!”