Until I Die - By Amy Plum Page 0,94
collectors—not even among ourselves; our clients have made it clear that if we discuss their interest with anyone they will no longer do business with us. All literary traces of revenants have disappeared into these buyers’ collections. So of course it occurred to me that there might be a reason for the secrecy—beyond an extremely competitive market.”
I met Papy’s serious gaze with a determined look of my own. He wasn’t going to scare me, and he needed to know that.
“There are strange, mystical things occurring in our world that very few people know about. Because my profession necessitates constant detective work into the darkest corners of history, I unluckily happen to be privy to some of them. Most of my colleagues prefer to stick their heads in the sand and pretend that revenants are fictional beings. But I don’t agree with them—I suspected their existence. And after what I witnessed today, my suspicions have been confirmed.
“But Kate, these things should remain where they began—in the shadows. Not in my life, dating my granddaughter. I cannot let you see Vincent again. Your parents would have expected me to protect you, and barring you from seeing something”—he hesitated, registering the look on my face—“someone who means certain danger for you, is part of the responsibility I have accepted.”
“But Papy …,” I began, suddenly blinded by an onslaught of tears.
“You are seventeen and still under my guardianship. When you are eighteen you can do what you want, although I will hope that by then you will see things the way I do.” His words were delivered with firmness, but I saw his eyes cloud with emotion as he watched me cry. I leaned forward into his arms.
“Oh, dear Kate,” he soothed. “I hate to make you unhappy. But I would rather see you depressed than dead.”
Back in my room, I picked up my phone and stared at it for an entire minute. For the first time in almost a year I wanted to tap in the number of one of my Brooklyn friends and hear their old familiar voice at the end of the line. But even though I knew I could do that—any one of them would be forgiving enough to pick right up from where we had left off—how could I even begin to tell them about my situation? It was too incredible to describe.
Um, yeah, Claudia? I’m dating this dead guy named Vincent and Papy won’t let me see him, because if I do I might be killed by these evil zombies that are out to get him. My friends would think that my grief had driven me mad.
I shook my head in frustration and dialed Vincent’s number. His voice sounded calm, but I could tell he was as shaken up as I was.
“What’s the verdict?”
“Papy said I can’t see you anymore.” I couldn’t help my voice from wavering.
“What else could we expect? He’s a rational man.” His voice shifted from cautious to warm. Caring. “Kate … I wish I were there with you. Are you okay?”
I sniffed and pushed my palm hard against my forehead to keep the tears from coming. “I’m all right. And I see where he’s coming from. But he’s wrong.”
“He’s not wrong about the fact that I bring danger into your life.”
“The danger’s already here, Vincent. It’s too late to think of that. Those numa are after me now. So thinking about it rationally, it’s even more dangerous for me to stay away from you. Besides the fact that I don’t want to stay away from you.” My tears won out, and I began to cry. For about the thousandth time in one day.
“It’s going to be okay, Kate,” Vincent said softly.
I grabbed a tissue and breathed deeply, trying to compose myself. “I owe Papy my respect. But I just can’t obey him in this case.” Vincent didn’t respond.
Something that had been nagging at the back of my mind for the last few hours began to emerge and form into a coherent thought. The whole revenant revelation and anti-Vincent campaign by Papy had overshadowed something important. But now I began to realize the repercussions of something the numa had said, and my heart was suddenly in my throat.
“Vincent—today in the gallery. That numa said something about me killing Lucien.” I shivered, although it was about seventy degrees in my bedroom. “How could he know that? No numa were there to witness it, and only your kindred know what happened.”
“I was wondering if you had picked