on his list now, too. Al three of them
—he would stop at nothing until he tortured each of them slowly.
With a few leaps, Kyle bounded up the marble staircase, and into the upper level of the tomb.
He circled around, walking down to the end of the chapel, beneath the huge dome, and reached behind the altar. He felt its limestone wal , searching.
Final y, he found what he was looking for. He pushed a hidden latch, and a secret compartment opened. He reached in, and pul ed out a long, silver sword, its hilt encrusted with jewels. He held it up to the light, and studied it with satisfaction. Just as he remembered it.
He slung it over his back, turned, and headed down the corridor, reaching the front door. He leaned back, and with one huge kick, the large oak door when flying off its hinges, the crash of it echoing throughout the empty building. Kyle felt satisfied that he had his ful strength back already.
Kyle saw that it was stil night, and he relaxed. If he wanted to, he could fly through the night, head right for his target—
but he wanted to savor his time. Paris in 1789 was a special place. It was stil , he remembered, rife with prostitutes, alcoholics, gamblers, criminals. Despite the nice veneer and architecture, there lived an underbel y that was long and wide. He loved it. The town was his for the taking.
Kyle lifted his chin, listening, sensing, closing his eyes. He could sense Caitlin’s presence strongly in this city. And Caleb’s. Sam, he wasn’t so sure about, but he knew that at least the two of them were here. That was good. Now al he had to do was find them. He would come upon them by surprise, and, he imagined, kil them both quite easily.
Paris was a much simpler place. There was no grand vampire Council, like in Rome, that he had to answer to.
Even better, there was a strong evil coven here, led by Napoleon. And Napoleon owed him.
Kyle decided that his first order of business would be to track down the little runt and make him reciprocate. He would enlist al of Napoleon’s men to do whatever they could to track down Caitlin and Caleb. He knew Napoleon’s men could be useful if he should run into resistance. He would leave nothing to chance this time.
But he stil had time. He could feed first, and get both his feet planted firmly on the ground.
Plus, his plan here was already set in motion. Before he’d left Rome, he’d tracked down his old sidekick, Sergei, and had sent him back here ahead of him. If al had gone as planned, Sergei was here already, and hard at work executing their mission, infiltrating Aiden’s coven. Kyle smiled wide.
There was nothing he loved more than a traitor, than a little weasel like Sergei. He had become a most useful plaything.
Kyle bounded down the steps like a schoolboy, fil ed with joy, ready to plunge right into the city, to take whatever he wanted.
As Kyle headed down the street, a street artist approached him, holding out a canvas and brush, gesturing for Kyle to al ow him to paint his picture. If there was anything Kyle hated, it was someone wanting to draw his picture. He was in such a good mood, though, he decided to let the man live.
But when the man pressed his case, fol owing Kyle aggressively, thrusting his canvas towards him, he pushed it too far. Kyle reached over, grabbed his brush, and jabbed it right between the man’s eyes. A second later, the man dropped dead.
Kyle took the canvas and tore it up over his corpse.
Kyle continued on, quite happy with himself. This was already turning out to be a great night.
As he turned down a cobblestone al ey, heading into the district he remembered, everything began to feel familiar again. Several prostitutes lined the streets, beckoning him.
At the same time, two large men stumbled out of a bar, clearly drunk, and bumped hard into Kyle, not looking where they were going.
“Hey, you jerk!” one of them yel ed at him.
The other turned to Kyle. “Hey, one-eye!” he yel ed. “Watch where you’re going!”
The big man reached out to give Kyle a hard shove to the chest.
But his eyes opened wide in surprise when his shove didn’t work. Kyle hadn’t been budged at al ; it had been like pushing a stone wal .
Kyle shook his head slowly,