Until I Die - By Plum, Amy Page 0,9
why? It’s not like people are going to hunt you down and destroy you.”
“The human radar isn’t the only one we want to stay off,” he continued, one of his long strides matching two of my own. “Like I said, there are others—and no, I’m not going into a discussion of which supernaturals actually exist outside of fantasy novels. We all have our own code of honor, you know.”
“Henri says that whatever they are, they’re headed this way,” Vincent said, his grave tone erasing all further questions from my mind.
We sprinted the last few yards to my front door, and I speed-typed my digicode as if all our lives depended on how fast my fingers could fly.
Vincent and Ambrose stood behind me like overdressed bodyguards, their hands on the hilts of whatever weapons they wore beneath their coats.
As the security lock released and I pushed the front door open, the noise of a speeding car came from the direction of the avenue. Headlights lit up the dark street, as the three of us turned to face the oncoming vehicle.
With radio blasting, an Audi full of teenagers pulled up in front of us. The door opened to allow a guy and a girl to spil from the passenger seat.
The four partygoers sitting in the back let out a whoop as my sister picked herself up from the sidewalk and made a dramatic bow. “Good night, y’all,” she drawled in her best Southern bell e impression.
The boy on whose lap she had been balancing stood, brushed himself off, and gave her a peck on the lips. “Door-to-door service. Only the best for Georgia,” he said, and leapt back into the car. “Bonne année! Happy New Year!” rang a chorus of voices as they sped out of sight.
Ambrose and Vincent let their coats drop back down over their weapons, so Georgia didn’t even notice our heightened state of alert.
“Hi, Vincent! And hello, Ambrose, you handsome thing,” she cooed, striding over to us in her short, lacy dress. Her pixie-cut strawberry blond hair was gelled into a dramatic style, feathering down around her freckle-dusted skin. “Just get a look at you boys in black tie. If only the Chippendale dancers we ordered for the party had been as handsome as you, then it might not have been a complete disaster.” She glanced at her watch and gasped in horror. “It’s not even one thirty in the morning and I’m already home! How humiliating! Why the police think they have the right to close down a party for being too noisy on New Year’s Eve, I will never understand. This was the lamest night ever!” She looked at where I was half-hidden behind the door. “Kate, what in the world are you doing?” Without waiting for an answer, she smiled her most dazzling smile at the boys, and then, giving my arm an affectionate squeeze, brushed past me into the building’s foyer.
“Is it just me, or is she in Georgia Overdrive?” chuckled Vincent.
“She’s making up for lost time after taking a five-week break,” I responded, remembering how Georgia had sworn off men after almost getting us killed by her then-boyfriend, numa leader Lucien.
“Well, we could definitely hire her as extra security. She and her entourage could scare off every shady character in the neighborhood,” Ambrose said with a smirk.
Which reminded me . . . “What happened to whatever was following us?”
“The mobile New Year’s party scared them off,” Ambrose responded.
“Listen, Kate,” Vincent said, peering warily down the darkened street. “Jean-Baptiste was right in saying that we don’t know when the numa will strike. And with whatever it was back there following us around, I’m wondering if maybe you could use a chaperone once in a while. I have some projects that JB has asked me to take care of”—he exchanged a look with Ambrose—“so I can’t be around all the time.”
“A chaperone?” I said with a different kind of alarm.
“What’s wrong with a guardian angel? Or two?” Ambrose asked. “You date a revenant, Katie-Lou, you better count on being followed around.”
“Well, if I’m not hanging out with you moving targets, I’m not of much interest to the baddies, am I?” I retorted. Walking around with my boyfriend was one thing. The idea of being trailed around Paris by other revenants was something completely different. I shook my head. “Do I get a good-night kiss or would that interfere with your chaperoning?”
I lifted my face to Vincent and he obliged with a slow, tender kiss that