Page 66 of Cry of the Firebird

"I can put it in—" she began.

"Stay back." He looked nervous, backing away from Katya and not sensing Cerise moving behind him.

"I have done it before. Are you afraid or something?" Katya provoked to keep him from turning. Cerise reached for his shoulder quickly.

"I'm afraid of no wom—FUCK!" he shouted.

"Good as new, sweetie," Cerise said with a mischievous laugh.

"We have to keep moving," Trajan called, slipping on his sunglasses. "It won't take them long to find their dead companion, and we need to be far from here."

Still laughing, Katya shouldered her backpack and began walking.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

They arrived in Paris a week later, foot sore and exhausted. After the train's incident, they had walked for nearly two days before they had managed to catch a series of buses and hitchhiked across countries.

Anya had never been to Paris before, so despite being so tired her eyes were falling out, she was glued to the window, trying to take in all the beautiful buildings and hum of cars and people. She was ridiculously impressed when Trajan fluently directed the cab driver to his townhouse in Neuilly-sur-Seine.

"You speak French?" Anya asked.

"When you are immortal, you need to find things to occupy your mind," he said with a shrug.

They had been walking together as they had traveled and had fallen into talking about Eikki and telling each other about the years they had been apart.

Trajan was as sweet and funny as Anya remembered. She had always found it hard to let people in and talk freely with them, but it was as easy as it had always been with Trajan.

Every time her hand brushed his, Anya had to fight hard not to have an internal meltdown. It wasn't like she hadn't everdated, but there was something about Trajan touching her that made her body short-circuit, just like when she used her magic.

It's just a stupid crush. You will get over it, she told herself whenever it happened.

Trajan's townhouse was made of pale gray stone, with long gothic windows, and was one of the only mansions in the area not attached to another. It had a high wrought iron and stone fence surrounding it and a well-tended garden and lawn.

"I called my maintenance people from a town a few days ago, so everything should be uncovered and ready for our arrival," Trajan said, walking up to the front gate. He punched in a code, and the gate swung open slowly.

The taxi holding Katya, Izrayl, and Yvan arrived, and they joined them. Yvan looked around warily as if he expected something to jump them at any moment.

Katya let out an appreciative whistle. "God damn, Trajan, I think I'm going to move in."

"I was going to suggest that anyway. If we are working together, it will be better if we stay together as a group," Trajan said and nodded at Izrayl. "You can help her grab her stuff tomorrow."

"My pleasure," he replied, shooting Katya a wink that she ignored.

Anya moved out of the way to join Yvan. "How are you coping?" He had been wide-eyed and cautious ever since crossing over from Skazki; the new technology and the sheer number of people were enough to stress him out.

"I'm sure I'll get used to it, but everything is so…loud," he replied.

"I know what you mean. I spent most of my time isolated on a farm, remember?" Anya nudged him with her shoulder. "We can be the old, technologically challenged people together."

"Indeed. How is your magic feeling?" he asked.

Anya flexed her fingers. "It's still there. I thought once we left Skazki, it would change, but it feels the same. Like flames under my skin."

Yvan smiled. "Good. It means learning should be easier too."

"I have to get a teacher first."

"Don't worry, I'm sure they'll find you soon enough." Yvan smiled at her, the first she had seen in days, and they followed Trajan and the others inside.

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