Until I Die - By Plum, Amy Page 0,69
few times, but I hadn’t heard from her since her twin had run off.
Vincent began idly playing with my fingers, pulling my thoughts back to the here and now. “Do most revenants have partners?” I asked. “I mean, Ambrose and Jules seem to be happy with their single status.”
“They’re still ‘new.’ Them wanting to settle down would be like a modern-day teenager wanting to get married. Why commit to one person when you’ve barely started experiencing life? Or afterlife”—he corrected himself—“whatever.”
“You don’t seem to mind settling down for one girl yourself,” I teased him, and then suddenly felt self-conscious.
Vincent smiled. “I’m different. Remember? I was on the verge of getting married while I was still human. Maybe I’m just a committed kind of guy,” he said, leaning pensively over the water before turning his head to look at me.
“To return to the subject,” he said, giving me a shy smile, “after a few hundred years of bachelorhood, people like Georges often want someone to be with. I guess that’s one part of our basic humanity that remains with us after death. The need to love and be loved.”
“Well, what about Jean-Baptiste? He’s still single.”
Vincent looked back at the water and grinned. “He’s just not very demonstrative with his affections.”
“What?” I exclaimed. “Jean-Baptiste has a girlfriend?”
He raised an eyebrow and, giving me a sideways smile, shook his head.
“A mistress then? A boy . . . oh!” I said, as the truth finally dawned on me. “Gaspard!” Vincent gave me a broad smile. “Don’t tell me you didn’t think of that before.”
I shook my head. But now that I knew, it made absolute sense. They were perfect for each other.
Vincent jumped up and took our plates to the tent. Returning to sit next to me, he said, “I have something for you, Kate.” He reached into his jacket pocket and opened his hand to reveal a tiny red velvet drawstring bag.
Loosening the strings, he pulled out a pendant on a black linen cord and placed it gently in my palm.
It was a gold disk the size of a dollar coin, and it was edged with two circles of tiny gold pell ets, one nestled within the other. Set in the center of the disk was a dark blue triangular stone with a smooth, slightly rounded surface. And in the space between the stone and the rows of pell ets were decorative gold wires curved into the shape of flames. It looked ancient, like the Greek jewelry in Papy’s gall ery.
“Oh my God, Vincent. It’s so gorgeous.” I could barely speak, my throat was so choked with emotion.
“It’s a signum bardia. A signal to revenants that you are attached to us. That you know what we are and can be trusted. Jeanne has one—she never takes it off.”
Tears welled in my eyes. Clutching the pendant tightly in my hand, I threw my arms around Vincent’s neck and hugged him for a few seconds, before letting go and wiping my tears away.
His smile was hesitant. “You like it then?”
“Vincent, ‘like’ doesn’t quite do it justice. It is beautiful beyond words. Where did you get it?” I asked, unable to tear my eyes from the exquisite piece of jewelry.
“It’s from our treasury.”
I glanced quickly at him. “So it’s Jean-Baptiste’s?”
Vincent smiled reassuringly. “No. Although it’s kept in his house, the treasury belongs to France’s revenants. The pieces have been passed down for mill ennia. This one is logged into our records as last being used by one of our emissaries to Constantinople in the ninth century.” My eyes widened. “Are you sure I should have it, then? I mean, is it okay with everyone?”
“I showed it to Jean-Baptiste and Gaspard, and they congratulated me on my selection, agreeing that it was the perfect choice for you. It is yours now—you don’t ever have to give it back. At least, I hope you won’t.” His grin was lighthearted but his eyes were earnest.
Wow. I looked back down at the pendant and traced the flames tenderly with my finger. Vincent studied it with me. “There are a lot of different interpretations of the symbols—whole books have been written about signa bardia in general—but the pyramid is supposed to mean life after death, and its three corners signify our three days of dormancy. The flames represent our aura and the only way we can be destroyed. And the circle is immortality.”
I just looked at him, unable to believe that this ancient pendant, symbol of Vincent’s kind, was mine. He