Page 22 of The Shadow Bride

And for me.

“Thank you, Jean.” Unable to help it, I brushed my lips against his other cheek before abandoning all restraint and peppering his face with kisses. “Or should I call you Captain Toussaint?”

He returned me to my feet with a sly smile. “I have something else in mind.”

“Oh?”

“Look in your pocket.”

Curious, I reached into my coat pocket, my fingers brushing something small and round—a ring. Instant warmth suffused me, and when I pulled the ring from my pocket—diamond sparkling in the afternoon sunlight—Jean Luc had already dropped to one knee. The sunshine cast half his face in gold, and he looked so handsome, so hopeful, that my breath caught. “Célie.” Taking my hand in his, he brushed his thumb across my bare ring finger. “I’ve loved you from the moment I fell out of the orange tree in your garden.” He laughed softly at the memory and shook his head. “You—you elbowed Reid and Filippa out of the way, andyou demanded to see my bloody knee. Do you remember? I knew then—even before you pushed up my pant leg, before you rushed off to find a bandage—that I’d never seen anyone so beautiful. Sogood.” My heart lodged in my throat as he took the ring from me, as he held it poised on the tip of my finger. “Would you make me the happiest man in the world, Célie? Would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

I hadn’t even stopped to consider.

I simply nodded through my tears, and when he stood, sliding the ring onto my finger, I wondered if a person could die from happiness. A harried-looking Father Achille burst through the door in the next second, however, before either of us could say a word. “Thereyou are, Captain Toussaint. Where have you been?” He shook his head irritably without waiting for an answer. “It doesn’t matter. A riot has broken out around Soleil et Lune. Apparently, a handful of Dames Blanches set the entire place aflame. Louise is containing the scene, but we should’ve dispatched a unit half an hour ago—”

“I’ll go now.” Jean Luc moved to release my hands with an apologetic expression, and Father Achille ducked swiftly from the room. “Stay here, Célie. I’ll be back in an hour, and we can celebrate. I promise.”

I clung to his fingers with the tips of my own. “But shouldn’t I—?”

“No.” He shook his head curtly, his eyes already looking through me. Past me. “It’s your first day on the job, and anyway, you heard Father Achille—Lou has everything under control. Our presence is more a show of support than anything.” Kissing my forehead, he added, “I love you.”

I love you.

I’ve loved you from the moment I fell out of the orange tree in your garden.

I’d never seen anyone so beautiful. Sogood.

Slowly, bitterly, I return to the drizzle outside of Chasseur Tower, staring up at the third window from the right. That bright afternoon feels like a lifetime ago. I shouldn’t be here anymore—I know that—yet I cannot go anywhere else either. I cannot endanger my friends by returning to Lou and Reid’s flat, and I cannot endanger the kingdom by seeking shelter at the castle with Beau and Coco. I cannot ask my parents to keep me, not like this, and Michal—

No.

Vision blurring in the rain, I stumble forward.

I just need to—totalkto Jean Luc, to see him. The two of us never found real closure, and everything I’ve touched since leaving him has crumbled at my fingertips.Everything, my mind echoes wildly. Even the street beneath my feet seems to shift, to pitch with each step, and I stumble again, bracing myself against a lamppost as thunder rolls in the distance. Jean Luc has always felt so steady. He always felt so safe. Pushing away from the lamppost, I stagger toward the cathedral steps with growing desperation. Because now he hates me—heloathesme—but he cannot hate me more than I hate myself.

Perhaps if I could just hear him say it—if someone in this wretched kingdom could tell me thetruth—it would absolve all the terrible things I feel. All the terrible things I’vedone. Perhaps I could move forward if Jean Luc would just treat me like the monster I am.

Or perhaps I could ask him to end it altogether.

The thought, small and quiet and terrible, creeps from the darkest part of my mind. I dare not look at it too closely, however,even as Frederic’s voice slithers out to join it.It should’ve been you all along.

“No,” I whisper.

In a burst of speed, I streak toward the cathedral steps—determined to reach Jean Luc before other voices join—but the instant my bare foot touches the stone, it burns like I’ve stepped on red-hot embers. Stunned, I jerk backward, landing hard on my backside and watching as angry red blisters split open the ball of my foot. My tears fall faster now. Thicker. I can scarcely see through them as I crawl to my knees, incredulous, and lift trembling fingers to the lowermost step.

They begin to sizzle as they near the stone. They begin tosmoke.

Just like my throat did when I spoke the name of God.

Snatching them away, I hold them against my chest and weep as the gravity of my situation finally descends. As it passes through this fetid new skin of mine like a disease, like a plague—exceptIam the disease.Iam the plague. Never again will I speak His name, and never again will I enter His house. I will never enter His kingdom because I am damned. I will never again walk in the sun, never again speak to my parents, never again eat chocolate with my friends or escape into dreams or even flirt with the bookseller up the street, because I am undead.

Because I am a fool, and I cannot fly. I never could.

And there is nothing here for me any longer.

Slowly, I place my scalded palms upon the cool, wet cobblestones. My brethren will be waking soon, if they haven’t already. Any one of them could look down from their dormitory windows and see me—the she-devil who once haunted their hallowed halls. The demoness.

The vampire.

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