We were prepared. We’d spent the better part of the day formulating our plan, which Luc had communicated to Mrs. Girard. Tyler would actively join in the fight, as would Joshua and Marissa. Their gifts would come in handy. Cece and Sophie would remain at the apartment under the protection of a pair of vampire guards. As much as they hated to be left behind, we just couldn’t find a way to utilize them.
Besides, Cece could project to the scene of the battle and report back to Sophie. There was a chance that her astral self might somehow distract our enemies. At least, that was her game plan.
Cece’s body would remain safely here, under Sophie’s watchful eye. And Sophie—well, her talents might be useful after the fight was over. To assess the damage.
“Someone go tell Tyler and Dr. Byrne,” Aidan said, disentangling himself from me and rising to stand stiffly. “I’ll meet you all downstairs in five minutes.”
“I’ll tell them,” I said, standing on shaking legs and making my way to the library in a daze.
“It’s time” was all I said, my voice quavering.
They both looked up at me, their faces matching masks of fierce determination.
Tyler rose stiffly and, with a nod in my direction, made his way out to join the others. Matthew reached for his shoulder harness and silently strapped it on. Far more elaborate than the one he usually wore, this one held four blades, two at the ready beneath each arm. He’d spent the better part of the long afternoon practicing pulling them from their sheaths, one after another, in rapid succession. “You’ve got your stakes?” he asked as he guided me out of the room, one hand pressed against the small of my back.
I nodded. “Downstairs, in the kitchen.” One for the sheath strapped to my leg and two more for my new shoulder harness. I felt like something out of The Matrix when I wore them all at once. All I needed was a black leather duster.
“Just let me stop in the bathroom first. Tell everyone I’ll be down in two minutes, okay?”
Matthew nodded and hurried down the spiral staircase as I stepped inside the hall bath and locked the door behind me. It took me several tries to pull my hair back into a neat ponytail and secure it with the hair band I’d been wearing around my wrist.
Once I’d finally accomplished it, I took a moment to catch my breath, staring at myself in the mirror, shocked by the image looking back at me. There were dark circles under my bright green eyes, eyes that were too big in a much-too-pale face. I looked like a terrified kid, I realized, not like a kick-ass vampire slayer out to save the world.
I dropped my gaze, unable to bear looking at my cowardly self another second. I just needed to splash some cold water on my face, I decided. That would help. But I was shaking so badly that I fumbled with the faucet, my hand slipping and knocking the bottle of expensive, scented hand soap into the porcelain basin.
Giving up, I gripped the sink tightly, trying desperately to pull myself together.
“Violet?” Aidan called up. “It’s time—the car’s here.”
This is it. You can do this.
One more deep breath and then I unlocked the door and stepped out into the hall. “I’m coming.”
A half hour later, the stretch limo dropped us off at a Metro station in the second arrondissement, where we took a train three stops before getting off and slipping through a door that eventually led to a long, stone-lined tunnel lit sporadically by fixtures that gave off a dull, yellowish light.
I had no idea how Aidan knew where to go, but we followed him without question down the tunnel and up a set of stairs, which took us to a large basement of some sort. We crossed the basement and went through a door, then down another set of stairs that led into yet another tunnel, this one narrower than the one we were in before, but more brightly lit.
About a hundred yards in, Aidan paused, facing the wall. “It’s right about here,” he said, running a hand along the stones that made up the wall.
I didn’t see anything. “What’s here?”
“The door.” He continued to run a hand along the stones, at last stopping and turning to face us. “Here it is,” he said. “Just give me a second.”
I looked at Matthew quizzically, but he shook his head. “I don’t see a door there,” he said.
“Yeah, you sure ’bout that?” Tyler looked equally unconvinced.
“You can’t see it because your senses aren’t nearly as sharp as mine,” Aidan said. “I just have to press on this stone—this one right here.”
I held my breath as he leaned against the wall. Eventually, there was a scraping groan and it began to give. “No mortal could open this, trust me,” he said with a grunt.
The seemingly invisible door swung open, and in a single-file line, we followed Aidan through and into a huge, cavernous space that appeared to be a theater of some sort. To our left was a stage, about six feet off the ground and maybe fifteen or twenty feet deep. Enormous fringed gold velvet curtains were held back on either side of the stage. The area where the audience would sit was sort of cone shaped, narrower toward the front, but growing wider as you moved back toward the far wall.
There were two rows of long, wooden benches set out on either side of the stage, right up front, but all the other benches were stacked up against the walls, which were lit with enormous torches set high up—all glowing brightly now, casting flickering orange light across the dark stone floor.
“What is this place?” I whispered, a shiver racing down my spine. It felt ancient and a little bit evil.
“Ah, you made it,” Mrs. Girard called out, startling me so badly that I stumbled back against Matthew. He steadied me, both hands on my shoulders as we turned to watch Mrs. Girard walk across the stage toward us with Luc at her side, her heels clicking loudly against the wooden floor. “And I see you’ve assembled your troops. You’re just in time—they’re already on the move. Guards!”
The shadows behind her began to move, taking shape. Several dozen male vampires made their way across the stage and down the steps on either side. They were all enormous, each and every one of them, and menacing looking, too. I was glad they were on our side.
Mrs. Girard and Luc followed them down, coming to stand beside us. “Let me speak first,” she directed at Aidan. “And take this.”
Luc held out something that looked like a long, sheathed sword.
“I brought my own,” Aidan said, reaching for the strap thrown across his shoulders.
Mrs. Girard shook her head. “Forget that puny weapon. This sword is fit for a king.”
She pulled it from its sheath, and I had to admit it was impressive with its jeweled hilt and engraved blade. “It is said to have belonged to Louis Antoine, Duke of Angoulême, last Dauphin of France,” she said reverently. “And now it is yours, mon chou.”
Aidan took it, admiring it. While he did so, Luc removed the weapon Aidan had brought with him, the one he’d so painstakingly polished, and handed it to Tyler. “You take this,” he told him. “I’ve been told you’re pretty good with a sword.”
Tyler took it with a grin. “Indeed I am.”
“Okay, guys,” Matthew said, gathering us into a tight circle. “You know the plan. Marissa, you try to control the mood. Keep us calm and focused, if possible. Stay back behind the guards—a safe distance from the fight. Joshua, you’ll help create a diversion when we need one. We can fight only one pair at a time—try to keep us covered. And, Tyler, just help out any way you can. See what happens when you shift their molecules around. If nothing else, use the sword.”