by Anna Santos
THE ANGELS
OF PARIS
CHRONICLES
BOXED SET
ANNA SANTOS
Copyright © 2017 Anna Santos
All rights reserved.
Inquiries about additional permissions should be directed to:
[email protected]
Cover Design by Moonlight Ljilja & Laercio Messias
Edited by Stacy Kennedy, Amy McNulty & May Freighter
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to similarly named places or to persons living or deceased is unintentional.
BOXED SET—BOOKS ORDER
Captive – Book 1
Red Angel – Book 2
Celestial – Book 3
Save Me, Prequel
For an updated list of books, and to have access to my upcoming releases, check my website:
www.annasantosauthor.com
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These books are dedicated to everyone who believes in true love.
CAPTIVE—BOOK ONE
The Angels of Paris Chronicles
Who would you rather have—a vampire or an angel—for a soul-mate?
Innocent Aria never imagined that her dream trip to Paris would change her life forever. She is soon thrown into a world where vampires, angels, gargoyles, werewolves, and other paranormal creatures exist.
After being rejected and almost dying, Aria finds herself stuck in a dangerous love triangle where her freedom and happiness are at stake.
Who will Aria choose to love forever? The gorgeous but ruthless vampire who sentenced her to Hell or the breathtaking and possessive angel Prince who offers her redemption and a brand new pair of wings.
Find out in Captive.
PROLOGUE
I can’t breathe! I try to fight the currents, pull myself up and move my arms, but the water is beating me. It tastes bad. It smells worst. Though, I can no longer smell it. I’m too busy fighting for my life. I don’t want to die. Please, God, help me! My eighteenth birthday was last week. My whole life is ahead of me. I promise to take risks, to try to fall in love. I promise I’ll do anything you want if you save me, God!
I can’t breathe! My dress is too heavy and it’s pulling me under the cold dark water. I should be watching my short life in front of my eyes because this was it—my final moments. I would cease to exist and it was just my first day in Paris. There was no time to see the Sacré Coeur or go to the Louvre and be mesmerized by the paintings. I had just seen the Eiffel Tower when my uncle drove me to his house. I didn’t have time to take pictures. I am going to miss so much! How could destiny be this cruel?
One week before
ARIA
“Oh my God!” I screamed, excited. “I can’t believe it! You said I should wait one more year! Oh! I love you guys.” I jumped into my mom’s and dad’s arms and kissed them silly.
I was on cloud nine. It was the perfect eighteenth birthday gift. I was going to Paris! I was going to get to know the city of my dreams, the city of love, and I would be able to sightsee everywhere. The plans were already forming in my head. I’d visit the Louvre and go all the way up in the Eiffel Tower. It would be helpful if I knew French. I tried to learn it, but I’m not gifted in languages. Science is my thing.
Mom said, “Your uncle will come and get you at the airport. He will be responsible for you while staying there. You will live in his house with his family.”
“Cool,” I agreed, extremely happy. My uncle was awesome. He had a daughter a year older than me. They had just come to the USA a couple of times since he moved to Paris, so I didn’t know my cousin that well. In fact, it’s been years since I last saw Gabby. Nonetheless, the idea of having someone there to show me around the city and to keep me company was exhilarating.
“You will stay for two months as you have asked, but I want you to really think about the possibility of attending Julliard instead of Stanford or MIT.”
“But, Mom, you know I want to be a Scientist! Playing the violin is just a hobby,” I complained.
Even if my parents loved me and wanted the best for me, Mom had it in her head that I was born to be a violinist like herself. Music was in my blood, but I played to chase away all my problems. Being able to find the cure for cancer was my dream. I wanted to do something that allowed me to leave a mark on the world. It was required to have a gift to perform music. Playing violin could be lots of fun, but I wasn’t good at composing. I would just be playing what someone else created to touch other people’s souls. Plus, I didn’t want to struggle to find work in the future. I wanted a solid profession with a solid income. I’d planned to travel the world. For that, I needed to work and study hard, so I could live my life as I pleased.
“Please, think about it. They’ve called you for an audition. The least you can do is practice a bit while you are abroad and think about what you really want to do. Besides, there is no harm in going to the audition and blowing their minds away.”
“Sometimes, I believe you think I’m so much better than I really am. Mom, you are the one who plays like an angel—if angels played violins—but I think they play harps. Yes, at least, that’s what they paint them playing on the church ceilings.”
“Stop being a smart-ass.” My dad rubbed my head with his closed fist.
I squealed and laughed. “Dad!”
“How on Earth did we give birth to a science girl when we’re both so into music?” He sighed, staring at my mom who shrugged.
Yes, I had witty parents, and I loved them to death, even when they were being stubborn.
Dad put his arm around my shoulders. “Are you ready for your birthday party tomorrow?”
I shrugged. Parties were cool, but now that I had my plane ticket to France in my hand, my thoughts were in all the things I wanted to see, and the planning.
“In a week, I’ll be in France.” I gasped, realization sinking in. My heart was racing. I wanted to scream and jump up and down to express my happiness.
Instead, I ran up the stairs to my bedroom.
“Aria, don’t forget that we have friends coming over tonight,” my mom shouted from downstairs before I closed my door.
I couldn’t wait to tell my friends that I was going to Paris. I needed to decide what clothes to pack. Yet, I just sat on my bed, staring at the walls covered with the postcards and the posters I had collected over the years. I didn’t have boy band posters. I love a well-known boy band, I’m crazy about Katie Perry, but I am crazier about Paris. Something had always pulled me to go there since I was little.
I sighed and got startled when my computer rang. It was my best friend, Jennifer, wanting to talk to me. I sat in front of my computer and prepared myself to tell her the good news.
CHAPTER ONE
ARIA
You must have realized by now that my name is Aria. My mom loves Italian opera, so she thought it would be cool to give me that name. I don’t dislike it. In fact, I find it romantic and pleasant. But even if I have a cool name, I’m not a cool girl. At least, not at school because my parents think I’m the coolest kid they could have. They love me to death, and I love them. They love me so much, they saved for three years, so they could offer me a plane
ticket to Paris. My dream was to travel to Europe and visit Paris. But, I don’t want to go there because of the amusement park. I couldn’t care less about Disneyland. I’ve been to Disneyworld. It was fun, but it wasn’t close to a fulfillment of a dream. I want to go to Paris to see the Eiffel Tower, to breathe the air inside the Louvre, and to be entranced by the Notre Dame.
Having an uncle living there is really cool. I just had to worry about the plane ticket and extra money. I’ve been working in a fast food restaurant for the past two years, so I could have some pocket money to pay for the entrances and the souvenirs I want to bring home. But, my parents surprised me by buying me my airplane ticket. They are the coolest parents ever!
My dream would be to study in Paris, but my parents didn’t have the money for that. Plus, my grades allowed me the right to a scholarship.
You see, I have the dream to be a Scientist. I want to discover a cure for cancer. I studied really hard to be an A student. Therefore, I was not the most popular girl at school. I was the dorky and weird kid who other girls looked at with disdain, and the guys were too cool to even look at me. I have no assumptions about my beauty. I’m plain normal, not fat nor thin, not pretty nor ugly, not tall or short. I’m average in everything but my grades. I’m probably too smart for my own happiness because I have the nasty habit of overthinking things. I also spend too much time thinking of a way to be accepted among my peers. I have friends. I have other smart kids like myself—girls who would rather be studying than partying.
I’m not making any plans of falling in love. I know hot guys, or any kind of guys, just look at the good-looking girls. And I’m too shy to even look a guy in the eyes. I hate that. I want to be different, to have the courage to stand up for myself, and be proud of what I have accomplished. But my shyness made me crawl to the anonymous list of kids in school while trying to survive through my teen years. They say that everything will be better after we grow up and go to college. I’m hoping that’s true. I wish to finish my studies, work for a big medical company, have a nice salary, and be independent. Maybe I can fall in love after finishing college, but I am not counting on that. I’m planning to win a Nobel Prize when I am older. A white house with a fence, a dog, two kids, and a husband are not part of my fantasies. Who would fall in love with me?
My uncle lives in a small apartment in the heart of Paris. It is cozy enough, but it just has two small bedrooms, a living room, a kitchenette and a toilet. In the movies, apartments were much nicer than in real life. It smelled old, and my uncle said that it was one of the best places in the city to live in. I was not so sure, but I could not complain. At least, I have a roof over my head.
“This will be your bedroom. There is a bed under the other bed. Gabby has arranged a place inside the closet for you to put your things. You can change clothes before coming to the living room,” my uncle explained to me, before closing the door behind him.
I sighed and looked around one more time. I should probably arrange my things inside the closet and freshen up. I had some time before my aunt and my cousin arrived home from shopping. Gabrielle had some sort of party she was going to that night, and my uncle was going to cook.
I had to share a bedroom with my cousin. I have only met her once when we were still kids. She is one year older than me and, judging by the amount of selfies she has scattered along her bedroom’s pink walls, she is gorgeous, which is everything I am not. She has astonishing green eyes and long blonde hair. She is always smiling in the photos. I wished I could smile like that at the cameras. I always feel extremely uncomfortable facing a camera. I tend to make the weirdest faces.
Everything was running according to plan when I got to Paris. At the airport, Uncle Steve seemed nice. He gave me a nice hug and told me how pretty I was, and how I looked so much like Mom. It is nice of him to say that. I thought Mom was really pretty. He was my mom’s brother. He had come to live in Europe a long time ago, wanting to be an artist. Most of his youth, he spent painting portraits in the streets of Paris for the tourists. Then, he met Samantha and they got married. Now he is a respectable businessman. He drives his own taxi. It is not much, but he likes to show the town to foreigners and the pay is good. It provides money for their needs.
Gabrielle is nineteen. She is an English student and had studied all her life in a private English college, so she speaks English rather well. It is good for me because my French is not that good. My uncle said that Gabrielle would show me the town and that he was also going to give me the tourist tour on the next day. I was really excited for that. I was tired and sore because of the flight, but landing in Paris recharged my batteries, and I was ecstatic to go out and see everything.
My uncle was married to an English woman who worked in the Sorbonne. I was hoping my aunt could show me the University. And then there was my cousin. Gabrielle was even more beautiful in person than in the pictures. She had astonishing green eyes, curly long hair, and a slim top model appearance. She also had a beaming smile that left me in awe staring at her. She seemed nice enough and looked like she was happy for me being there.
“Oh my God, Aria! You are the cutest thing, darling,” my Aunt Samantha squealed, giving me a bear hug.
It was the way people use to tell me that I was an adorable dork, too misfit to be considered pretty, but not bad enough to be called ugly. They usually added that they were sure that I would grow up to be a beautiful woman. I looked younger than I was and had little to none existing breasts. Yes, I was really lacking in that area. I dreamed of having more. Maybe it would make me look more attractive to the opposite sex. Not that I think about boys much. They are a bit of a mystery to me. No…I rarely look at boys with romantic thoughts.
Anyway, I take pride when people point at me and say, “There goes Aria. Isn’t she smart?” There is more to life than pompoms, makeup and wearing fashionable designer clothes. I couldn’t afford them anyway. I had to save my money to visit Paris and for college.
“Isn’t your cousin the cutest thing?” Aunt Samantha asked her daughter.
Gabby’s lips stretched into a smile, and then she checked her phone. Maybe I was wrong about Gabrielle, and she wasn’t that nice after all.
“You could take her with you to the party,” my uncle added.
Gabby snapped her eyes at him, looking upset. I kind of panicked because I had just arrived, and I was not ready to go anywhere.
“That would be a great idea!” Aunt Samantha agreed.
“Why would I?” she asked coldly, staring at me as if assessing my worth.
I tried to get out of that situation the best I could. “That’s okay. I’m really tired and don’t want to impose.”
My uncle placed his arm around my shoulders and said with a smile, “Nonsense. Gabby will be happy to take you with her and introduce you to some of her friends. It will be good for you to meet new people.”
I gulped. Meeting new people wasn’t something I was eager to do. I was an introvert and didn’t know how to talk to people. Meeting foreigners who spoke a language I could barely understand was not my idea of having fun.
“But, Dad,” Gabriella complained, pouting, “Sean invited me, and I can’t bring someone without his boss’s knowledge. It’s a really private party! Sean won’t be pleased!”
“Don’t be like that Gabby. I’ve raised you to be better than this! Aria is your cousin. She is new in town. We have talked about this. You need to be friendly with her.”
“I really don’t mind staying at home. I should probably rest anyway,” I said, making them all stare at me. Gabby looked pleased by my words, but my uncle didn’t back down.
“Aria, it’s just a party. It will be really fun and if you go, you can check on my daughter,” he added with a wink.
Gabby complained, “I’m not a little kid anymore. I can take care of myself! And Sean will be there with me and a lot more of my friends.”
“So, there’s no problem in taking your cousin with you,” her dad declared as he folded his
arms. “Because, I believe you told me that it was a normal party and everybody you knew was going. So why can’t you take your cousin with you?”
Rising from the table and placing her hands on her hips, Gabby blurted out, “Because no one invited her!”
Her dad didn’t flinch. “You just need to call your boyfriend and ask him to add Aria to the list.”
“Dad, you don’t get it. It’s a VIP party. Not everybody is invited. Only the important people are invited to Philippe’s parties. You know how rich he is and how mysterious he can be.”
My uncle clenched his jaw. “I also know that his businesses aren’t all legal and that you are hanging out with the wrong crowd!”
“You’ve met Sean and approved of him! We are not taking drugs or anything like that,” she defended as her cheeks turned redder.
Her dad calmly stated, “Then there’s no problem in taking Aria with you.”
“You are stubborn!” She headed to her bedroom and slammed the door.
“You are not leaving this house without your cousin, young lady,” her father insisted as he walked to the closed door.
I nervously bit my lip and smoothed my hair down. That wasn’t the nicest way to start a relationship with my cousin. Just great!
“I really don’t want to impose,” I whispered, feeling ashamed for witnessing that kind of discussion between them.
