Until I Die - By Plum, Amy Page 0,27
as surprised by this uncharacteristic outburst.
Arthur shot a look at Violette, who clenched her jaw and glared at him. Okay, I thought, this must have something to do with the argument I interrupted.
“Perhaps I am stating the obvious, but we are discussing sensitive strategic information in the presence of one who is not of our kind.” What? The blood drained from my face as I felt everyone stealing glances my way. I stared at Arthur, but he avoided my eyes, smoothing a blond lock behind his ear, as if he needed to do something with his hands.
Vincent’s hands clamped my shoulders like steel vises. I looked up to see that his face had turned to stone, and had a hunch that if revenant superpowers included shooting flames from their eyes, Arthur would be a revenant barbecue.
Everyone was silent, waiting. Arthur cleared his throat and glanced back toward Violette. Her tiny fingers clenched the arm of the couch, her fingernails digging into the leather.
“Although I allow that humans have interacted with us throughout history, except for the rarest of cases, like our own Geneviève’s marriage, serious interaction with humans has always been on an employer-employee basis. I realize that this human has done you a service by killing your foe. But I must question her presence in a tactical meeting involving the protection and survival of our own.” He might as well have slapped me in the face. Tears came unbidden to my eyes, and I wiped them angrily away. Within a second Jules and Ambrose were on their feet, facing Arthur like they were in some kind of gang rumble. Vincent pulled me back toward him as if he could physically protect me from Arthur’s words.
Arthur held up his hands in a gesture of innocence. “Wait, kindred. Please hear me out. I do not know Kate as well as you, but I have seen her enough to know she is a good and trustworthy human.” He finally dared to meet my eyes, and his look was apologetic. I didn’t care. Apology not accepted. “I am not suggesting that she is not welcome here among us,” he continued. “Only that she not be involved in this meeting. For her own safety, as well as our own.”
There was a cacophony of voices as everyone began speaking—or rather yelling—at once. Jean-Baptiste raised a hand and barked, “Silence!” He looked at each person in the room for a second, as if measuring their feelings in the matter, ending his silent inquisition with me. “Kate, my dear,” he said in his noble monotone, which made the “dear” sound anything but endearing, “forgive me for asking you to take your leave from this meeting.”
Vincent began to speak up, but Jean-Baptiste raised a hand to silence him. “Just this once, until we settle this matter with our newcomers. I want everyone to feel comfortable with the situation, and Arthur and Violette have not yet had the time to acquaint themselves with your presence here.
Would you do me the very great favor of excusing us on this one occasion?”
I shot Arthur the meanest glare I could muster, knowing that it had to be pretty lame: My eyes were red from stifled tears of humiliation. His eyes looked empty, but he held my gaze until I broke it. Lifting my chin, I gathered every shred of my tattered pride together as I stood.
“I’ll walk you to my room,” Vincent whispered, laying a hand on my arm.
“No, I’m fine,” I said, backing away from him. “I’ll wait for you there.” Unable to look at the others, I left the hall.
Instead of going back to Vincent’s room, I went to the kitchen, hoping to find comfort from the only other human in the house. I pushed my way through the swinging door into the kitchen, where Jeanne bustled around with trays of food. She put the kettle on the stove as soon as she saw me and came over to give me two energetic cheek-kisses.
“Kate, darling, how are you, my little cabbage?” She held me back and got a look at my red face and eyes. “My dear! What is the matter?”
“I was just kicked out of a house meeting for being human.”
“What? But I don’t understand. I am very surprised that Jean-Baptiste would take that position after everything that has happened.”
“It wasn’t Jean-Baptiste. It was Arthur,” I said, sitting down at the table. Accepting Jeanne’s offer of a Kleenex, I dabbed the corners of my eyes.
“He said I might endanger