The Eyes of the Sun: The Complete Trilogy Page 21

  Lucy smacked him lightly on the arm. “Lead the way, Frenchy. I don’t really care what we eat, but I’m looking forward to collapsing.”

  They walked from the square and turned onto a narrower side street. Lucy noticed the shops and cafés took on a more neighborhood-like quality that was not at all unlike her corner of New Orleans. Andre stopped at an unassuming storefront and held the door open for her. As she entered, Lucy was nearly knocked off her feet by the heavenly scent of fresh baked bread.

  “I told you,” Andre whispered as he brushed past her to the small counter, leaving her to gawk at the assortment of goods on display. Five minutes later, they left the shop, each carrying a brown bag laden with crusty baguettes, chocolate filled croissants, sandwiches made with goat cheese and brie, and an assortment of savory pies. At the next block, Andre stopped at a small door with peeling blue paint, wedged between a laundry and a tobacco shop. He pulled out his keys and unlocked the door, ushering Lucy inside and up a dark, narrow staircase to a small foyer with doors to the left and right.

  “Which way?” Lucy asked.

  “Straight ahead.” Andre winked and reached past her, placing his hand against what she first mistook for a thermostat. The panel in front of her slid away soundlessly, revealing another narrow staircase that led to an identical foyer. “Left, this time.” Andre placed his hand on another thermostat. To Lucy’s surprise, the knob on the ordinary looking oak door retracted and the door slid sideways into the wall, revealing to Lucy’s chagrin, more stairs, although only four this time, with a landing and a single door. Here Andre produced an ordinary house key and unlocked the door.

  “Well, here we are,” he slid his hand over the wall and found the light switch. “Home sweet home.”

  Lucy stepped through the small entryway into a narrow room furnished with a sofa, two chairs, a few tables, and several bookshelves built into the wall. At the other end of the room was a doorway leading to the tiniest kitchen Lucy had ever seen and an alcove that she discovered was actually a staircase that wound up to the second floor.

  “Wow,” she exclaimed. “It’s…”

  “Small?” Andre supplied, dropping his bags onto a chair and gesturing expansively, which only served to diminish the room’s size. “This is luxury, I assure you. Seven hundred fifty square feet, almost twice that of the others in this neighborhood, though fifty less than your private quarters back home.”

  “I was going to say adorable,” Lucy said with a shy smile. “The décor,” she gestured to the circa 1970s orange velour sofa that had clearly seen better days. “It’s not at all what I imagined your place would be like. But yeah, now that you mention it, it’s kind of small.”

  A wistful look passed briefly across Andre’s face before he turned away, taking the groceries to the kitchen. “My mother did all the décor. We had a house, out in the country. It’s since been torn down and the area developed into suburbs, but we spent much of our time here for convenience sake.”

  “Ah,” Lucy nodded, unsure of what to say.

  “I could have expanded,” Andre continued. “I own the building now. I felt it necessary to have a place in the city that was secure, yet apart from EJC, for the exact reason we’re here. No one except Evan knows this address. I usually stay at headquarters, just like back home.”

  “Why didn’t you? Expand, that is, if you own the building?”

  “I already expended so much effort to have the security installed. If I changed the layout, I’d have to redo that. Plus,” he sighed, pausing momentarily to gaze at a picture on one of the shelves, “my only real memories of my parents, my whole childhood really, are here in this apartment. I just thought…” He looked up and caught Lucy staring at him with a slightly glazed expression, her head tilted to the side as if she were looking at a rather abstract work of art. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

  “Evan told me about your parents. I’m sorry. I can’t even begin to imagine what that was like for you.”

  Andre stared at the picture for a moment longer before he turned to look at Lucy with a sad smile. “I would think you of all people would know exactly what it was like to lose a loved one and have your life turned on its side at a young age.”

  Lucy felt a twinge of heartache, both for the memory of losing her mother and for Andre, and the pain he must have suffered. “You’re right. I suppose in that respect we have a lot in common.” Her eyes landed on a picture of a man and woman holding the hands of a young boy who was scowling at the camera. The woman had the same sandy blonde hair and blue eyes as Evan, and the man looked exactly like Lucy suspected Andre would in a few years. “This is your parents?”

  Andre looked at the picture and laughed softly. “Yes. That was my eighth birthday.”

  “Oh? You don’t look pleased.”

  “My father promised me a dog and we had gone out to a neighbor’s farm to pick out one of their dog’s new puppies. I had just made my decision when it became very apparent that my mother was allergic. As you can see, I didn’t take the news very well.”

  “Apparently not,” Lucy chuckled softly. “Though you know, had I seen this picture a few weeks ago, I would have been convinced this is your only facial expression.”

  “Ha ha. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to rearrange some things upstairs. The rooms are small and I have been using my parent’s room every time I’ve been back here, so I’ll just move my stuff out and you can have it.”

  “You don’t need to do that,” Lucy protested.

  “Really,” Andre insisted, “the other bedroom hasn’t been touched since I was a boy, the bed is a twin and if you thought the downstairs was small...” Andre trailed off. Lucy was already climbing the stairs, so he turned to follow. “The bathroom is here,” Andre said and indicated the door at the end of the short hallway. “No tub, but the shower is actually a decent size. Your room will be on the left.”

  But Lucy had already opened the door on her right with a startled yelp. Andre was right. The room was tiny, perhaps seven or eight feet wide and about twelve feet long. At the far end was an alcove with a window and a cushioned window seat. Though it was small, it was cozy, and Lucy would have found it charming, save for the fact that the entire room was decorated in a clown motif.

  “Um, like I said, I was ten when I left here,” Andre explained in a voice tinged with embarrassment.

  “You’re right, I can’t stay here,” Lucy whispered solemnly. “Their eyes, I can feel them watching me.”

  “Coulrophobia,” Andre rolled his eyes, “such an American phenomenon. Clowns here and elsewhere in Europe are beloved childhood friends.”

  “Yeah well,” Lucy shuddered. “I was five when It was made into a TV movie and for some reason my mom didn’t object when I sat down and started watching it with her. I’ve spent the last twenty years averting my eyes from drainage ditches.”

  Andre stared at her in disbelief. “Yet you walk willingly into dark alleys to kill vampires. You’re weird. I’ll move my stuff in here. Just give me a minute.”

  “Andre, it’s fine, honestly,” Lucy gestured at the small twin bed that took up most of the room’s floor space. “You’ll never fit on that bed. I’ll deal with your, uh, beloved childhood friends.” She stifled a yawn. “Actually, I could use a nap, if that’s okay with you.”

  Andre glanced at his watch. “It’s still pretty early, sure get some rest. I want to take you sightseeing later this afternoon.”

  “Sightseeing?”

  “Sightseeing, as in, seeing the sights, we have many in Paris,” Andre said with slight sarcasm.

  “No need to get snotty,” Lucy said defensively. “I just thought we were here to work, I didn’t think we’d get to have any fun.”

  “Trust me, it’s work related, but that doesn’t mean we can’t have fun. Go to bed, I’ll bring up your bags.”

  Chapter 21

  “I’d bring a jacket,” Andre advised. “It’s supposed to get chilly later.”

 
; “I’ve noticed! November in Paris is not like New Orleans. It was eighty-three when we left and I wouldn’t be surprised if it snowed here.” Lucy grabbed a coat, her black wool pea coat that had been a staple for surviving DC winters, and followed Andre back through the labyrinth of secret doors to the streets.

  “The doors are coded with your info, by the way,” Andre informed her. “Just make sure you aren’t being followed.”

  Lucy wondered who exactly would be following her if they weren’t supposed to be hunting. Of course, she was armed with her usual wrist holster full of CPAs, but Andre had assured her it was a precautionary measure only and that she was only to use them if her life was in immediate danger.

  Outside, the buildings around them cast long shadows, creating an overcast appearance.

  “What time is it?” Lucy checked the time on her phone and was surprised to see that it was only three thirty in the afternoon. “It seems really dark already.”

  “The sun will set in about an hour, and will not rise until almost nine tomorrow morning,” Andre explained. “This far north we see a much larger shift between the hours of daylight in the winter versus summer. It’s pretty hard on the team. They work longer hours and compensate with vacations in the summer months when there is only eight hours of darkness each day.”

  With their newly purchased passes, Lucy and Andre once again boarded the Metro. Andre led Lucy on a whirlwind tour of what seemed like every church in Paris. Notre Dame and Sacred Heart she recognized, but many others that she had never heard of awed her just the same. Though Lucy had once been to Rome with her grandmother and visited the ancient ruins, she had been too excited at the time to truly understand the historical significance. Though not as old as ancient Rome, some of the churches they visited were older by centuries than any building in the States.

  One church in particular, Eglise de la Madeleine, though not as old as the others, caught Lucy’s attention more for the unusual Greek inspired architecture and the fact that inside appeared to house an art exhibition of rather unusual pieces. Andre nearly had to physically remove Lucy, who was determined to see every piece.

  “Come on, there’s more to see.” Andre tugged her arm gently, steering her back out to the street.

  “There can’t possibly be anymore churches in Paris,” Lucy exclaimed, marveling at a statue near the street.

  “No more churches,” Andre promised and slung his arm around her shoulder, causing Lucy to stumble slightly. He put his other arm around her. “You okay?”

  Lucy blushed, pulling away slightly. “Fine, I just lost my footing.”

  “Lucy,” Andre slid one hand around her waist and placed the other on her shoulder, turning her to face him. “We’re out to be seen, remember that. Act like you love me.”

  Lucy sighed, hoping the sudden warmth that radiated through her body wasn’t terribly apparent. “Sorry, I forgot.” Steeling her nerves, she leaned up and placed a quick, almost comical kiss on Andre’s cheek. “Where to now?” Lucy noted the almost imperceptible look of dazed confusion before Andre turned and led her back down the sidewalk.

  “We’re off to the Opera.”

  “Finally!” Lucy exclaimed with a laugh. “I was beginning to wonder if you were trying to convert me to Catholicism or something. I’ve always wanted to see the opera house.”

  “Let me guess, Phantom of the Opera fan?”

  “Actually, yes, the book was great, the musical was okay, but it missed so much of the story. But no, it’s the building itself that I’m interested in. Hey wait a minute!” Lucy stopped walking and turned to Andre with wide eyes. “Your last name is Garnier!”

  “So it is.” Andre was visibly amazed. “I’m sure there’s a possibility Charles Garnier is an ancestor, but there are thousands of other Garniers in France who could probably say the same. I’m rather surprised you know the name of the architect.”

  “All of my electives were in art and architectural history.” A shadowed hint of regret passed briefly over her expression. “Actually, I never wanted to become a lawyer or politician. I’d dreamed of being a museum curator.”

  “Ah, I guess that explains the utterly devastated look you had when we breezed past the Louvre.”

  “Well really,” Lucy said with an exasperated sigh. “You said we were sightseeing and passed by the second biggest sight in Paris behind the Eifel Tower!”

  “Yes, but I also said this would be work related. The churches, this opera house,” Andre gestured at the magnificent building they were nearing, “and a couple other sights, mainly cemeteries, are where we run into most of our trouble. I wanted to make sure we were seen, and seen enjoying ourselves. Our Paris counterparts have the same predilection towards rumors as the team back home.”

  “Were we seen?”

  “Not yet, but…” Andre scanned the area. “Oui, we’ll likely be seen here, come on.” He pulled Lucy forward when the crosswalk signal indicated that it was safe. They stood for a few moments and admired the imposing building, lit up as it was in the early evening. Lucy tentatively leaned back against Andre’s chest as he lounged against a guardrail. When his arms came up and circled her waist, resting lightly over her stomach, Lucy tried desperately to ignore the havoc his simple touch was wreaking within her. When he leaned forward to nuzzle the side of her neck, it was with every bit of restraint that Lucy held back a gasp, whether of shock or pleasure, she wasn’t certain.

  “We’ve been spotted,” Andre whispered, “but this could get…interesting.”

  Lucy blinked out of the comfortable daydream she hadn’t realized she'd allowed herself to fall into and swept a quick glance at their immediate surroundings. She spotted the hunter almost immediately. “The blonde in the red jacket staring daggers at me? An old flame?” Lucy asked, surreptitiously sizing up the blonde. Even though she was bundled against the elements, it was obvious that the hunter was more than endowed in all the right places. Lucy immediately and irrationally hated her.

  “Yes, that’s Lisette, and no, not an ex. Lisette’s had an, uh, interest in me for a while now and has not exactly been subtle about making this fact known.”

  “Oh?” Lucy asked, straining to keep her tone casual. “So what’s wrong with her, you don’t like blondes?”

  “Well normally she’s a redhead,” Andre supplied with a hint of amusement.

  “She must be one of those frizzy haired, ginger types with overlapping freckles,” Lucy remarked with more bite than she intended. “Because no man with a pulse or otherwise is likely to turn down the other type.”

  “Oh she’s definitely the other type,” Andre said suggestively.

  “So what’s wrong with her then?” Lucy’s voice was clipped and pitched higher than she would have liked.

  “Why Lucy, are you jealous?”

  Lucy blushed, grateful that Andre stood behind her. “Of course,” she said with force joviality. “No one messes with my man. You want me to start a catfight? I draw the line at hair pulling though.”

  Andre chuckled, a throaty sound so close to her ear that it caused the hair on the back of Lucy’s neck to stand. “No fighting. You may be half vampire, but Lisette’s a pit bull with a short fuse. I think…” Andre spun Lucy to face him and turned them both so that she was leaning on the rail he had been leaning against. “Perhaps a little show will make a deeper impact.” He tilted Lucy so that she was forced to put her arms around him or fall backwards over the rail and down to the Metro station below. With one hand now resting between her shoulder blades, Andre placed his other hand gently on her face, tucking an errant lock of hair behind her ear. Lucy shuddered and let out a small sigh.

  “You look scared,” Andre said softly, tilting her chin up gently so that his lips were just inches from her own. His heavy lidded gaze pierced hers with a smoldering intensity that Lucy found she couldn’t look away from.

  “N-not scared,” Lucy stammered. “I’m just uh, uncomfortable with public displays of affection.” No sir, you are not aff
ecting me at all, no way! She told herself, though she found her breath coming in short, shallow gasps.

  Andre’s eyebrow quirked upwards and a sly smile played on his lips as he leaned closer. “Well,” his words tickled as his lips met hers, “when in Rome, as they say.”

  “B-but we’re in Par-” The last part of her sentence died away as Andre brought his mouth fully against Lucy’s in a chaste, yet remarkably searing kiss. All too soon, it seemed he trailed his lips away from hers, only to find the sensitive flesh of her neck once again. Lucy allowed her hands to roam free, settling on the soft curls that graced the nape of his neck.

  “So,” Andre whispered, “can you see if we’ve made an impression?”

  Oh, you made an impression alright.

  Lucy shook her mental cobwebs away and stole a glance towards the building. Lisette’s expression was definitely one of shock, and she didn’t look at all happy. “Oh yeah,” Lucy’s voice was slightly huskier than usual. “Let’s just say I hope I don’t ever run into Lisette in a dark alley. Though there’s a tall fellow with her now who seems very pleased.”

  Lucy felt Andre’s head shift slightly. “That would be Gerard, her partner. Yes, I suppose he would be pleased, seeing as he has it bad for her, but lacks her forwardness.” Andre pulled away slightly and placed a playful kiss to the tip of Lucy’s nose before straightening fully. “Come along, my love, our work here is done. I do believe a celebratory dinner at a romantic little bistro is in order. Then,” Andre wiggled his eyebrows at her, “I’ll get you home, and into bed.”

  Lucy gave him a long, lustful smile that she didn't need to fake. Andre might have been making a joke, but Lucy's imagination went into overdrive. She shoved the unwanted thoughts from her mind before she ended up spending dinner mentally undressing her partner. Instead, she gave him a mock stern look and whispered, “I’m afraid that won’t be happening until after the wedding, Darling.”