Allegiance (Causal Enchantment #3)(48)
There was long pause. “Why didn’t you get the keys?” the werewolf inquired, obviously noticing Amelie’s hotwire talents. Freaking sharp-eyed wolves.
Amelie responded with her trademark seductive giggle, one I’m sure no one—even a burly Russian werewolf—could resist. “I’m a naughty girl. I guess old habits die hard.” I sucked in another breath as the excruciating silence stretched. “Come on! I’m not a prisoner here!” She threw in an annoyed sigh.
I heard snow crunching as footsteps moved away. I exhaled the smallest breath of relief, fighting hard against a delirious giggle. In another moment, the sound of creaking iron gates announced our freedom. The jeep jerked forward one last time.
***
“So I guess there were no basic road rules in your Earth?” I said dryly, my chest tight, my white-knuckled hands gripped on the door handle as the jeep slid sideways into a parking spot. “I should have stayed hidden underneath the blanket for the trip.”
Amelie winked and giggled at me. We had made it to Paris’s downtown core in what could only be considered record time, swerving through traffic, disregarding street lights, and taking the roundabouts and narrow streets at full speed, as if both of us were immortal.
Amelie pushed open her car door and hopped out. “Come on! We don’t have a lot of time. Sofie’s going to skin me alive if she finds I’ve taken you out.”
I gave my body a quick shake, trying to slough off the petrifying drive. My eyes coasted over my surroundings. Paris … I was in Paris! I had only ever dreamed of being here. I’d never expected to make it, or so soon. We were in the heart of the city, parked on a narrow street that bustled with life, even in the winter chill. People darted in and out of shops like little ants, all in a rush, bundled in the most fashionable of coats and hats. I had always heard that Paris was like this—the people knew how to dress. It wasn’t surprising that Sofie was from here.
I guessed their fashion sense would be the first to die when the need for basic survival took over, when this war began … I looked along the decorative buildings, down at the beautiful cobblestone road. If I focused hard enough, I could see the tufts of grass pushing through the crevices, up heaving history and human life and swallowing it up in years of neglect and decay.
A violent rap on the side window brought me back from my apocalyptic daydream. I turned to find Amelie’s mesmerizing emerald irises glaring at me through the glass, her arms crossed over her chest in a childlike stance. Opening the door, I barely got my leg out before she grabbed hold of my arm and yanked me the rest of the way.
“When I say ‘skinned alive,’ I mean it, Evangeline! Literally. She can do it do, you know!” She tugged me forward as she marched across the street. “My skin will just grow back, but it will hurt like a son-of-a-you-know-what while she’s doing it!” I tuned out her dramatic ramblings, peering into the storefronts, each unique and exotic. A soap store, a perfume store, a specialty baby gift shop. Soon, they would all be a thing of the past, remnants of human existence, left behind to decompose in the rubble.
“Evangeline!”
The sharpness in her voice slapped me into place. I turned to see those eyes dissecting me—both worry and annoyance in them. “Where is the excitement from thirty minutes ago? I’m risking Sofie’s wrath by bringing you out here. The least you could do is not be a complete zombie!”
“Sorry …”
She sighed, squeezing my hand. “It’s okay. You’re dealing with a lot. I’m dealing with a lot. But,” she yanked on a long cylindrical brass door handle and prodded me forward into the shop with sharp fingers in my shoulder blade, “while we’re dealing with it, let’s do something fun like … get Christmas presents!”
Christmas. Right. It was tomorrow. It would be my first Christmas with Caden … and perhaps our one and only. Get it together, Evie … I shook the thought away. Amelie was right. Shopping for gifts would be an enjoyable distraction.
The second we stepped inside, the smell of sweet pipe smoke tickled my nostrils, bringing with it a pang of remembrance. It smelled like Leo. We were in a gentleman’s shop, full of dark wood shelves, and lined with everything from cigars to jewelry to striped dress socks and pink ties. Numerous frazzled women milled about with salesmen trailing behind them, hoping for the commissions on a last-minute desperate and expensive purchase. Of course I would get something for Caden. But what the heck did I get a seven-hundred-year-old vampire for Christmas?
“Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve even thought of getting a Christmas gift for someone? Gosh … I can’t even remember what I … Oh, yes, I can! I got my mother this beautiful pink and white cardigan,” Amelie said, as giddy as a child in a toy store as she strolled up to a counter that held some expensive watches and other men’s jewelry.
“Bonjour, mademoiselle,” the distinguished man behind the counter chirped in his melodious French tongue.
Amelie giggled, batting her long eyelashes sweetly. “Hello, sir. My French is atrocious at best.”
He smiled and nodded. “Oui. I understand. How may I be of assistance?”
She leaned forward to peer into the glass counter in front of her, her finger dragging over the surface as if ready to identify something. “I’m looking for a pocketknife. A large one. Decorative but effective.”