Dragon's Mate (DragonFate #4) - Deborah Cooke Page 0,131

and reveled in the sight of the northern lights, sending all that fucking magick right back where it belonged.

The dragon and the swan had done better than Sebastian could have anticipated.

Of course, much of the credit belonged to him. He had helped them, after all.

His destination was Paris, the city he loved best. Paris was constant in a way that made Sebastian feel young again. It changed, to be sure, but in its heart, the part he loved the best, the pace of change was very slow. His favorite cities shared that trait. Paris. New Orleans. London, to some extent. Budapest. Venice. He really should visit Istanbul again. It had been a long, long time.

He walked down the Champs Elysées at night, savoring the press of people, the sound of music and laughter, the smell of food and women’s perfumes. The vivacity surrounding him was thrilling. He’d feasted upon a wreck of humanity, unable to completely abandon Micah’s principles by putting a homeless derelict out of his misery. The fresh infusion of blood thrummed through him like a fine wine, giving him an uncharacteristic sense of optimism.

The French loved tradition as much as Sebastian did. The great-great granddaughter of the lawyer he’d hired a century before still managed the family business. Like her forebears, she was amenable to an evening meeting. He suspected that she kept the same excellent brandy in the wood-paneled office.

His step quickened as the hour of their meeting drew near. He moved quickly down the familiar streets, diving deep into the quarter to the townhouse he had visited so many times. The light was on in the office on the second floor, its golden light a beacon to him.

Soon, he would hold the key.

Soon, his sanctuary would be his again.

He rapped on the door and was ushered in by a secretary with downcast eyes and shown to the stairs. “I know the way, thank you,” he said in French and the secretary inclined his head, then vanished into an office on the main floor.

He tapped once on the door of the office and heard the lawyer’s invitation from inside. He opened the door with a flourish and a smile, only to freeze in astonishment.

The lawyer was there, of course, standing behind the desk every lawyer in her family had used, the walls behind her thick with books bound in leather. She was impeccably groomed as always, dressed in a dark suit, her hair twisted up, tasteful small diamonds at her earlobes. The bottle of brandy was on a small table before the fireplace, but there were three glasses on the tray, the cut crystal catching the firelight.

And Sylvia rose from her seat beside the fire. She looked a bit tired and was dressed more casually than the lawyer. But she smiled at him and Sebastian found himself in awe of her presence.

“I brought the key,” she said as the lawyer watched. “Micah preferred a courier for such a precious item and I volunteered.”

She held out the antique gold key and Sebastian stared at it. “You shouldn’t have,” he said, hearing that his tone was brusque.

She laughed a little. “No, probably not, but I couldn’t resist the temptation.”

“You’ve done quite well resisting it in the past.”

“Time for a change.”

He met Sylvia’s gaze and was surprised to find her eyes filled with confidence. He wondered how much the lawyer understood: her expression was impassive but he knew she was bilingual.

“Show me your library?” Sylvia asked.

Sebastian frowned and glanced toward the fire.

“It must be very special,” she continued softly. “I love libraries. You know that. And I’ve come all this way.”

He moved closer to her, risking the alluring scent of her and his own temptation. “You have to understand that I don’t play by Micah’s rules anymore.”

Sylvia’s smile broadened. “But that’s why I volunteered,” she confessed. He stared at her, amazed that she knew what he was and who he was, yet had come anyway.

He reached for the key, but she withdrew it. “I want your promise that we’re done with games and riddles. I want to know the truth, all of it.”

“The truth always comes at a price,” he warned her.

“Of course. And I suspect it might take a long time to share this particular truth.” She held out the key, her eyes filled with a wisdom that hadn’t been there when they’d met and he knew that she was prepared for whatever he might show her. He still felt protective of her, but he welcomed the prospect

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