Until I Die - By Plum, Amy Page 0,60
lonely while you were hiding out in the forests and planning ambushes on the Germans?” I reached out my hand and began playing with the back of his hair as I slowly pulled his face toward mine.
“What does this have to do with your homework?” he asked skeptically.
“Nothing,” I replied. “I was just wondering what would have happened if I had been this sexy Resistance messenger who came from Paris to meet you in the woods. At night.”
“Kate,” Vincent said, eyes wide with amused bewilderment. “This is the lamest procrastination scheme I have ever heard. It almost counts as entrapment.”
“So, I ride up on my old wartime bike to your camp,” I continued, ignoring his protest. “Keep in mind, you haven’t seen another human for weeks.
What do you do, soldier boy?” I said, doing my best Greta Garbo impersonation.
Vincent leapt on me, pushing me backward onto the couch and kissing me enthusiastically all over as I dissolved into a fit of hysterics.
UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE
HarperCollins Publishers
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TWENTY-ONE
VIOLETTE AND ARTHUR WERE WAITING FOR US next to the club’s front door. Dressed appropriately for a night out, Arthur, for once, looked his original age. He wore a band T-shirt lent to him by Vincent, over some black jeans. Without his regular button-up shirt and ascot, he was actually pretty hot.
Too bad he’s an aristocratic snob, I thought as I saw Georgia look him over appreciatively, managing to completely ignore Violette’s presence as she did.
The little revenant walked up to me and kissed my cheeks. “We haven’t had a movie date in a whole week!” she said, reprimanding me with a joking smile.
“I know. We have to plan something soon.”
She glanced at Vincent, who was standing next to me talking to Arthur, and then back to me. From her expression, I could tell she wanted to ask me something. I took a step away from him and lowered my voice. “Yes?”
“I had been thinking about that book you found at your Papy’s place. The Immortal Love one. Gaspard actually has a copy of it, but it’s missing.
Do you happen to have it?”
I felt my face redden. Damn! Once I had gotten what I needed from it, I had totally forgotten about the book. Why can’t I just tell her? Because I’d look like a thief. “No,” I answered.
“Paris’s revenants use Jean-Baptiste’s collection like a lending library: They never leave a note when they take things. It’s so frustrating!” Violette actually stomped her foot like a spoiled child, and I had to press my lips together hard not to laugh.
“Come on!” my sister yelled from where the bouncer was checking his list. I breathed a sigh of relief.
“Let’s go,” Vincent said, taking my hand as the bouncer held the door open and we filed into the darkened room.
Our group stood near the front of a packed room, watching Sebastien’s band play on a raised stage draped with leopard-skin curtains. Between us and the band were a pack of teenage girls, dancing and watching the musicians adoringly.
Jules had brought a date—some gorgeous foreign model-looking type. They had walked in soon after we arrived, her cattish eyes looking sleepy as she poutily scanned the crowd from the protection of his arm.
“This is Giulianna,” he offered, introducing her as I joined them at the bar.
“Ciao,” she said, and turned to order a drink.
As Jules gave me cheek-kisses, he whispered, “She has nothing on you, of course, Kates. It’s just that you’re so very . . . taken.” He winked and put his arm around the Italian bombshell, leaning in to yell his order to the bartender.
“You okay, Ambrose?” I asked, picking up the Perriers I had bought. He leaned tiredly against the bar with a tomato juice in one hand.
“Gonna be dormant later tonight,” he said. “Plus, I think I’ve met my match with your sister. I haven’t felt this exhausted in decades.” I gave him a knowing smile and carried the drinks back to where Vincent stood with Georgia. “I see some friends,” she said. “Be back in a few.” And she disappeared into the crowd.
Vincent looked tense as I handed him his drink. “Is something wrong?” I asked.
“No,” he said. “It’s just that I always feel exposed when we go places like this without someone volant along to scope out the surrounding area.” He tried to look more relaxed and even started nodding along to the music, but I could tell he was worried.
“It’s a safe enough neighborhood, isn’t it?”
“Normally I would say yes. But it