Until I Die - By Plum, Amy Page 0,49
an art-house German film about guardian angels sounds just about right.”
Vincent smiled tiredly and picked up the phone to order our pizzas.
I checked the time. We had a few hours together before he would take me home. After that, I had a whole day during which Vincent would have no idea what I was up to. Which was exactly how I wanted it.
UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE
HarperCollins Publishers
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SEVENTEEN
I STEPPED OUT OF MY BUILDING ON SATURDAY morning, ready for my weekly fight training, to see . . . nobody. And then I remembered Vincent couldn’t be there to meet me. Not even in spirit form. He was dead-as-a-doornail dormant today.
I typed in the digicode as I arrived at La Maison, letting myself into the courtyard, and knocked at the door as was my habit when Vincent wasn’t with me. Gaspard opened it with a look of surprise, and then fell all over himself apologizing. “Oh, dear Kate,” he said, stepping aside and ushering me into the house, “I completely forgot about our practice. I should have telephoned you to cancel. You see, Charlotte called this morning. Charles is gone.”
“What do you mean ‘gone’?” I responded.
“It seems that he waited long enough for Geneviève to get moved in before taking his leave of Charlotte. He left a note this morning telling them not to worry about him, but that he would not be in contact for a while. That he needed to go somewhere else to get his head ‘sorted out.’” Gaspard always sounded awkward when he tried to use contemporary phrases.
“Is someone going to look for him?”
“Where would we even start?” Gaspard replied. “Charlotte and Geneviève will stay put for the moment, in case he decides to come back.
Otherwise, I’ve spread the word among our nearest kin, and I’m sure news will travel. Perhaps we’ll hear back from someone who has spotted him.” He stood for a moment, looking at the floor as if the tiles held the answer to Charles’s whereabouts, and then, shaking himself out of his stupor, said, “In any case, I have several calls still to make, so please excuse me.”
“Is there anything I can do to help?”
“No, nothing to be done,” he mumbled as he walked toward the double stairway.
“I think I’ll stay, then,” I called.
“Yes, yes,” he said distractedly, disappearing down the hallway at the top of the staircase.
I stood there feeling awful for a moment, wondering what Charles could possibly be up to this time, and thinking of how Charlotte must be going out of her mind with worry. I would write her as soon as I got home.
Glancing down the hallway toward Vincent’s room, I had to almost physically restrain myself from going to see him. Even though he’d never know, I decided to be good. This time.
And then it dawned on me. This was the perfect opportunity to check out JB’s library. I waited for a few seconds, until I heard Gaspard’s door close, and then skipped up the stairs and made my way to the library.
For me, this room was like book heaven. I had never been in here on my own—only with the whole group during the couple of meetings I had attended in it. And now, here it was, all mine to discover. Thousands of volumes, many of which I assumed contained references to revenants, lined the walls in columns so high that the top shelves had to be accessed by ladders.
Where to even start? I knew what I wanted: the stash of newly acquired books that Vincent had mentioned—those that Gaspard, acting as the Paris clan’s unofficial researcher and librarian, hadn’t had time to go through yet. I was convinced that if he had seen Immortal Love—and had actually read it cover to cover—he would have checked out the guérisseur option and Vincent would have told me about it.
I took a few minutes to browse through the shelves, like I had in Papy’s library, situating myself in the maze of books. Although there was definitely some sort of order to them, I couldn’t tell what it was. However, the spine of each book held a little tag with a reference number typed on it, just like in a public library. After a quick glance around the room, I spotted something that warmed my heart: a big wooden cabinet inset with dozens of tiny drawers. Gaspard kept an old-fashioned card catalogue. I felt like kissing him.
There hadn’t been an author’s name on Papy’s book, so I skipped to the drawers