The Angels of Paris Chronicles Books 1-3: Boxed Set Bonus Edition

by Anna Santos

  He looked straight into my eyes, and I could see the conflict on his face. He had a rather gorgeous face for an evil demon.

  “You don’t need to be a vampire or an angel. You can be yourself. You can be human and stay away from all this mess. But if you love Cedric, I’m not going to be the one to stand in your way.”

  “You’re not?” I asked, troubled by the sweetness in his voice and the grief.

  I could almost touch the sadness. I had to fight back that feeling and think straight. Was he trying to trick me or convince me by playing the sad and unselfish vampire-slash-psychopath who one moment didn’t want me and the next wanted to get me in his bed to rape me? I didn’t even know how else to describe his twisted past actions. Now he was playing the kind and brooding vampire. This was extremely confusing! I would rather have him be evil all the time, so I had a reason to keep hating his guts. Nevertheless, I wasn’t going to let his words reach my heart. He had rejected me and said the foulest and most hurtful things to me.

  “You’re not in my way. I love Cedric, and I sure don’t want anything to do with you,” I told him, so he would get it once and for all. “I don’t care about you,” I added to make him understand that I was not moved by his words or the sadness in his gorgeous chocolate eyes.

  “Good then,” he said in a husky voice, causing me to gulp again.

  He looked at the elevator as the door opened. “Let’s go upstairs,” he said, leading me inside.

  We were almost crushed by the other people and stood close together. My arms crossed over my chest and my body leaned against him. He smelled nice for a walking corpse. He didn’t even feel inhuman. He was trying to act cool about my words, but I could sense that he was even sadder than before. I wished I couldn’t sense that. I wished I couldn’t care less about it. Yet, my stupid heart felt sorry for him. I wished that he could be happy. That he could find someone else. In reality, what I was thinking was that he was warm, and he smelled like heaven in a crowed place with smelly, sunburned tourists.

  “Do vampires’ hearts beat?” I asked low enough, so he would be the only one who could hear me.

  He nodded.

  “Are you serious about leaving me alone?”

  He nodded again.

  “Then stop acting like the world is going to end tomorrow. You’re annoying me!”

  He offered me a sad smile that didn’t help to make me feel better about his depressed state of mind. I shouldn’t have cared about his feelings, about the sadness that I knew lived inside of him. He was a murderer and a psychopath. But psychopaths didn’t have feelings. And he had them even when he’d rejected me. Analytical thinking should have an “off” button.

  “If I hadn’t been ugly, you wouldn’t have rejected me,” I affirmed.

  We were surrounded by other tourists speaking in foreign languages that I was able to understand because of my angelic abilities. Some of them were lost, others were excited by the museum, and others were complaining about the time they’d had to wait for the elevator. I was breathless and uncomfortable against Philippe.

  Philippe put his hand under my chin and made me look at his face. “Do you want to know the truth?”

  I blinked, unsure of the answer I should give him. I knew the truth. Why is he asking me about it?

  “I know what the truth is; you said it to me when you rejected me.”

  “Aria,” he whispered, placing his hands on my cheeks.

  I felt my temperature rising and my breathing became rapid. My heart was racing in my chest; I wanted him to let me go and stop this nonsense. What the hell is he going to do when cradling my face like that and staring at me with eyes that hold so much heat, they could melt ice? The air was getting heavy around us. I was beginning to panic.

  “I swear to you if you try to kiss me, I’ll kick you right here in this elevator, and I won’t care if everybody sees me do it,” I mumbled, annoyed by his actions and his prolonged silence.

  He smirked, apparently immune to my threat.

  The doors opened, and we were rushed out by the other tourists, almost run over by the ones wanting to get in.

  He let me go but held tight to my hand, so I wouldn’t get separated from him.

  “I’m not going to make that mistake,” Philippe said, guiding me to the left of the corridor.

  I followed him, feeling like a small, lost girl.

  “I’m not going to kiss you, harm you, or try to make you mad. We’re going to see the paintings and we’re going to forget all about our little talk in the elevator. And if you tell me once more that you were ugly, then I’m going to kiss you.”

  “That is…a stupid threat,” I said, trying to argue with him. I stopped walking and let go of his hand. “I’m perfectly fine walking without you pulling me around.” I blinked. “What do you mean, by I was ugly? So I’m not ugly anymore now that I’m an angel and I have pretty red hair and nice pale skin?”

  “You’re misinterpreting my words.”

  “No, I’m not! Stop talking to me like I’m unable to keep up with you. I understand you perfectly. You’re pissing me off!”

  “You’re making a scene in the middle of the corridor,” he said.

  I looked around, noticing how some people were staring at us. I grumbled to myself, annoyed by the ability he had to make me argue with him and make a scene in public.

  “So what if you’re a bit prettier now?” he inquired mildly.

  I glared at him with murderous intent.

  “Do you really think it was that that made me change my mind?”

  “I don’t have a clue about what’s going on inside your head. I don’t read minds. I don’t have that cool power. I just burn things down.”

  He arched an eyebrow and put his hands in his pockets. His calm composure was maddening me beyond words.

  “Maybe we should go somewhere less crowded,” he proposed. “Some exhibitions are empty.”

  I looked around.

  He cleared his throat when I didn’t move and whispered softly, “I know that angel wings are invisible to mortals, but…yours are forming behind your back and you’re glowing strangely.”

  I lost the bad attitude and turned to stare at my back and my hands. Damn, I have to get a grip or I’ll burn down the Louvre. That would be impossible to erase from my conscience.

  Sighing deeply, I thought about Camille’s words to relax and think about happy things. Think about Cedric and our happy time together. Think about my time with Camille.

  “I want to go home,” I whimpered, feeling sad. I wasn’t enjoying myself anymore and things were weird and confusing.

  “I’m sorry,” Philippe said with a trembling voice. “I didn’t want to upset you. I’m…going to stop talking about us. Let’s see the paintings. I promise I’ll stop talking about what happened.”

  I fixed my hair and bit my upper lip. Then I spun around and stared at the corridor and the people passing by, minding their own business. I was feeling lost and out of control. I wanted to run away from here and stay away from Philippe. He was messing with my mind and with my heart.

  “I don’t want to see anything else,” I declared, balling my hands into fists.

  I was not going to break down and cry in front of this jerk. I didn’t even know why I wanted to cry in the first place.

  “Come on, Aria,” he whispered, leaning down and holding on to my shoulders.

  I raised my head to face him, holding back my tears. My throat hurt from the effort.

  “I promise I’ll stop talking about you and Cedric, or you and me. I won’t mention any of the stupid things I did and said to you again. We’re simply going to continue our tour of the Louvre.”

  “You’re only saying that because I’m freaking you out,” I mumbled.

  He sighed and smiled. “Why would you freak me out? I’ve seen plenty of glowing angels before. I’m a vampire,” he whispered so no one else would hear. “I have fangs. How freaky is that?”

  I shrugged and pouted. “
At least, you’re not a fire hazard.”

  “It’s just when you get upset. Try to relax and take a deep breath,” he said, squeezing my shoulders slightly. I did what he told me to. “Happy thoughts. Let’s go see your favorite paintings.”

  “Favorite paintings,” I whispered.

  “The ones you like the best.”

  “And how do you know which ones those are?”

  “I know you like Vermeer. I don’t understand why you asked to see Rembrandt. They’re insipid and dark.”

  “I like Monet more,” I whispered.

  “Impressionists have a way of capturing light that leave us mesmerized,” he declared, and I nodded. “The Water Lilies mural isn’t here, Aria. It’s in the Orangerie Museum.”

  “I know. You can’t go outside.”

  “I can’t take you there by day.”

  “I…don’t want to go there today anyway. There are plenty of other things here to see. I haven’t seen the mummies. I want to go downstairs.”

  “After we’ve visited these galleries. Now, stop acting evil. I promise I’ll look at whatever you want.”

  I bobbed my head in agreement, even if it was unfair that I was the one being called evil and not him.

  “Do you want to tell me why you were so upset after you hung up the phone?”

  I shook my head. It was none of his business.

  “Fine, but it’s not my fault if your boyfriend doesn’t reply to your messages.”

  “He’s busy,” I retorted.

  “Then why are you so annoyed?”

  “I wanted him to spend more time with my parents,” I confessed. I neglected to add that I wanted him to spend more time with me, but I didn’t want to sound so selfish. “Jacob found time,” I grumbled, remembering Camille’s words, only to regret speaking about it. “Never mind. I want to…stop thinking about that. It’s already bad enough that I have to endure your presence here. I have no idea how I’m going to explain it to Cedric.”

  “Haven’t you told him that I’m here with you?”

  I shook my head after nibbling my lip.

  “Why?”

  I was wondering the same thing, but deep down I knew that I didn’t say anything to Cedric because I didn’t want him to appear out of nowhere and take me away. He wouldn’t let me stay if he knew. But I wasn’t doing anything wrong. I wasn’t indulging Philippe’s feelings—or lack of feelings. I was merely sightseeing and talking.

  “Do you know what Cedric is doing right now?” I asked, staring at Philippe.

  “I have better things to do than have someone following Cedric. Besides, angels can teleport. It would be a waste of resources. So no, I don’t have any idea where your boyfriend is.”

  “Hmm.” I mused over his words.

  “I thought you knew.”

  “No, he didn’t explain. And I had to phone Camille to know that he wasn’t home.”

  “He must be doing some angelic duty like saving a human from demons and vampires or spending his time at the top of a building staring at the city below. You know, like Batman,” he joked.

  I actually laughed. “Or Spider-Man.”

  “That one, too. If he gets worried, he’ll phone you. Now, stop thinking about Cedric’s whereabouts and enjoy yourself. It’s not every day that you have me around to ask questions about what you want to know.”

  “Don’t flatter yourself. There’s this thing called Google and there are also informative signs on the walls.”

  “Do you want me to shut up then?”

  I rolled my eyes. “If only I had such luck. But you keep talking and talking.” I walked down the corridor, pretending to find him annoying and too talkative. I knew he would follow me. It was hard to maintain a straight face, so I was smirking.

  “I don’t talk too much! I talk when you ask me things. I think I make for a rather pleasant company.”

  “Maybe you do when you’re not trying to kill me,” I retorted, looking at him sideways to see the annoyed face he had. I stared at the ceiling, smirking at how easy it was to make him sulk.

  “That sort of argument is completely uncalled for. There it is a limit to how many times you can use it.”

  “Really?” I asked, stopping in front of a painting and folding my arms. He stood beside me and stared up at the same piece of art. “So what is this ugly thing in front of us?”

  “The Cheat with the Ace of Diamonds by G. de la Tour. And it’s not that ugly. It represents a moral theme. It portrays one of the three major temptations of the times: gambling, wine, and lust. This being the gambling.”

  “Hmm,” I whispered. Yes, he’s smart like that, a walking louvrepedia.

  Arching an eyebrow, he asked, “What?”

  “How many times have you been here?”

  “Many, but it’s better when I can show it to someone who likes it and is curious about it. I like when someone understands what I’m saying.”

  “Is the Louvre open at night?” I wondered, ignoring his attempt to compliment me.

  “It has late night openings on Wednesdays and Fridays until 9:45 p.m., but I don’t like coming here when there are tourists around.”

  “So you sneak in?”

  “A lot of weird stuff happens in this town after dark. Vampires and other creatures come out to play. The Louvre is visited at night by creatures that can’t come during the day and don’t want to mix with mortals.”

  “Cool,” I whispered, only to regret it when I saw the lopsided grin he gave me.

  “Want to see the rest?”

  “Lead the way,” I answered, spinning around to look for another painting that could intrigue me. I followed him, but I saw nothing captivating.

  There were a number of advantages to visiting the Louvre with Philippe. One, he knew a lot about everything. Two, he was extremely patient. Three, he indulged my curiosity. And four, he made for interesting conversations.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  PHILIPPE

  My new restaurant’s debut would happen the following week, but it was functional enough to receive a private dinner. I’d brought one of my best chefs and my best sous-chefs to prepare the meal. I hadn’t forgotten that Aria hadn’t tried the French desserts at the restaurant the other day, so I made sure there was vanilla crème brûlée, tulips with raspberry sorbet, and chocolate pudding.

  The meal went smoothly. Everybody enjoyed the food, and Aria adored the baroque décor of my new restaurant. I loved how often we had similar tastes and opinions. I also loved the fact that she didn’t ask stupid questions and understood my points of view quickly. She was smart and had a cute sense of humor, even if it mostly consisted of antagonizing me with sarcastic remarks about my stupid decision when we’d first met.

  After dessert, Gabby, Sean, and Aria went to look at something on Gabby’s iPad and the three of them continued talking about concerts. They also were trying to convince Aria to go with them to my nightclub to have fun. I liked that idea a lot. However, it was clear that she had never been to a nightclub before, and she was concerned about it, especially with staying up so late. Maybe she had some kind of curfew imposed on her.

  Nevertheless, I was trying not to irritate Aria with my presence, so I stayed at the table, next to her parents, listening to their conversation and answering some questions for Aria’s dad. Until the subject of the conversation changed to their meeting with Aria’s boyfriend. I already knew that they had been to the mall with Aria and Cedric because Aria’s dad had told me when he’d invited me to join them at the Louvre. I just didn’t know how tense it had been.

  “And what was with her asking his permission to come with us?” George stated, baffled.

  It had me concerned, too. Aria asking Cedric’s permission to go out was not my idea of her being free and happy.

  Her dad was clearly annoyed. “I didn’t raise my daughter to be submissive like that!”

  “They’re dating. She probably wanted to know if he minded being left alone,” Mrs. Davis said.

 
; I hoped she was right.

  “She does everything to please him and she looks at him as if he’s some kind of rock star or something,” her dad complained.

  I mentally grumbled.

  Mrs. Davis smirked. “He is rather handsome, George.”

  “Do you think they’re doing it?” he questioned his wife, lowering his voice so no one else could hear him. I sensed the tension in his question. “I didn’t raise my daughter to get pregnant and dumped during the best years of her life.”

  “Aria is a smart girl, and she knows how to prevent pregnancy.”

  “Woman, you should have said that they aren’t doing it,” he complained, making everybody shut up and look at him.

  Aria frowned at her dad, and he smiled, a bit ashamed. Since he didn’t say anything else, the others resumed their conversation.

  I was amused by his funny words, but not at the idea of Aria and Cedric having sex. That didn’t please me at all. Cedric had better been treating Aria with the respect and the love she deserved, or else I would smack his arrogant face and take her away from him.

  Meanwhile, the conversation between Aria’s parents was getting intense.

  “You’re overreacting, and she’s old enough. We started a bit younger if you remember,” his wife whispered, making him even grumpier.

  “I should buy her condoms,” he muttered. “And tell her I’m too young to be a grandpa.”

  “You should be quiet and leave our girl alone. It’s her first time in Paris, and she’s experiencing her first love. How romantic is that?”

  “Well, summer loves are great, but what if she doesn’t want to come home because of him?”

  “Oh, George, you are overanalyzing this.”

  “You should be a bit more worried, woman! What if he’s playing with our daughter’s feelings? What if he breaks her heart?”

  Mrs. Davis grabbed his hand and held it tight. They were a lovely couple, clearly in love after all this time. It was endearing to see how Mr. Davis was worried about Aria. He was a good father. I would like to have been a father like him if I had kids. Something that would never happen now that I was a vampire. However, Aria could have them with Cedric. Angels have kids as far as I know. Cedric had a mom and a dad, a family, and he could have a family with Aria.