your night to mingle,” he said. “Besides, we’ll have plenty of time alone in Paris. Do you know when you want to leave?”
“As soon as possible,” I said. “I need to check the airfares. I’m sure it’s outrageous unless we book ahead.”
“Don’t worry about the cost; it’s my treat,” he said. “Consider it a honeymoon gift. One among many,” he said. “Just decide when you want to leave.”
“Let’s leave at the end of the week,” I said. “That gives me a few days to pack and shop.”
“I thought the point of visiting Paris was to do the shopping there,” he said, pulling a fresh glass off a tray for me. “Pack light and buy all new things when you’re there.”
I sipped my drink and savored the bubbles as they ran down my throat. “I guess it’s good to know ahead of time that my husband has an extravagant side.”
“All vampires are extravagant after a certain age,” he said. “It makes life bearable.
As the dinner bell rang we moved to take our seats, searching the tables for our name cards.
“Gabriel could have done the seating at Versailles,” Aidan said with some exasperation as he passed us in search of his own chair. “He excels at social management.”
The first course arrived, a mixture of Vietnamese-inspired rolls, hot and cold, stuffed with combinations of shrimp, pork, cilantro and cellophane noodles. The rolls were followed by a series of clay pots that had been simmering for hours. They were filled with sauces in every color of the rainbow: yellow curry with potatoes, green curry with shrimp and green onions, red curry with chicken. Next came bowls of noodles tossed with Dungeness crab meat. Platters bearing whole steamed sea bass followed the noodles. It was a feast, paired expertly with sweetly crisp Rieslings to keep pace with the spicy food on the table. For dessert, pot de crème—chocolate pudding—was offered, but made the French way with more egg yolks and cream than one person should eat. It was a decadent, but satisfying, way to end a rich, spicy meal.
I glanced around the room, watching people under the sway of good food and wine. Aidan’s remarks about Versailles struck me as prophetic, for we seemed perfectly suited, our small band of like-minded comrades, now sated, savoring our hard-fought victories.
After the luxurious meal, we all walked out of the Moss Room together, climbing the restaurant’s steps in pairs and exiting through a steel gate located at what would normally have been the “backyard” of the Academy of Sciences. In the evening, the gate is unlocked so that guests can enter the restaurant when the museum is closed. We walked through the gate one by one, full of laughter and heady from multiple bottles of wine. We all walked slowly, lingering in the warmth of a good meal, made better by good company.
As we approached the street, something shiny and black caught my eye. I was not the only one; the group turned its collective head in unison. There, a few hundred feet ahead, sat a row of black Lexus SUVs. Clearly, Gabriel had arranged yet another luxury for his guests.
William and I stopped for a moment to admire the front of the Academy. It was early November, but the museum had already decorated its façade with Christmas wreaths and red bows. One of the largest natural history museums in the world, the front of the building was a mix of old and new, consisting of a set of massive, glass walls affixed atop the historic stone shell of the original building, built in the early 1900’s. Steel beams run in a grid through the glass. The panels create a feeling of transparency, a fitting metaphor for the goals of an institution devoted to science and learning. Dozens of solar panels above the entryway serve as an awning in inclement weather, and provide electricity to the building.
Aidan was the first to approach his car, a smile on his face as he regarded Elsa from a distance. For some reason, she was trailing far behind him, deep in conversation with Madeline, who’d come late to the meal. Strangely, there was no driver standing outside his vehicle, or any of them, for that matter. The absence of drivers should have made us question the arrangements, but we were too much in the afterglow of our meal to notice the details.
The moment Aidan opened his door, the car exploded.
****
CHAPTER 36
The detonation of the first SUV set off a chain reaction, causing