Page 2 of Even Vampires Bleed
In the middle of all of those angels showing off their feathers, there is one who decided to hide them completely.
He’s who I’m trying to find now.
Léandre.
I don’t know what is going on in his head right now, but I feel like he could use a friend.
My eyes run around the inside of Notre Dame in search of those golden curls I admired during the ceremony, but he’s nowhere to be seen.
I look up and do the same with the balconies.
There he is, looking down at the people inside the church, his eyes vacant.
He looks exhausted, and yet I can see in the way he’s holding himself that he’s waiting for something.
That’s it. I’m going up. I’m not going to let him sulk alone.
No one should feel alone or so sad on a wedding day.
I release my dress—once again—and climb the stairs to his hiding place.
2
Cassiopé
“You’re not going to celebrate your best friend’s wedding?” I ask as a greeting.
He’s still facing down, looking at the people milling around downstairs, and doesn’t turn at my words. He doesn’t flinch either, as if from the corner of his eyes he’s been following my every move and knows exactly where I’ve been.
He could have heard me, but I highly doubt that.
Yes, bird-shifters have good hearing, but I’m a bat—or a vampire if you listen to the humans. We can hear ten times better than the birds, and I’ve learned to stay silent.
How else would I avoid my dad’s surveillance? He’s a bat, too, and a damn good one, so I had to learn to be extra quiet every time I wanted to sneak out as a teenager.
Those skills stuck. Now I can hear anyone trying to approach me, but I don’t think anyone could hear me coming.
It’s a cool trick, but it doesn’t work with Léandre.
Not that I really wanted to surprise him, though.
The only answer I get from Léandre is a shrug, as if he can’t be bothered to answer.
I cross my arms around my middle and lean on the corridor’s stone railing, much like Léandre.
“You’re going to sulk here all day?” I tease with a small smile.
I don’t think he’s going to answer me. He looks lost in his own thoughts, so I’m surprised when he finally breaks the silence.
“I’m not sulking. It’s just a lot to deal with.”
He doesn’t say anything else, even if I feel like he might want to.
I move closer to him and nudge his elbow.
“I know it might be hard for you, but I think Angie needs you right now,” I say in a soft voice. “We don’t know each other, but I know you care about her, and I care about her, too, so we can either go down there and act as if everything is normal, or you can tell me what is wrong and I’ll be your verbal punching bag,” I say with a bright smile.
He likely won’t take up my offer. Instead, he’ll—begrudgingly—choose the first option, but I’m an optimistic girl who chooses to believe he could surprise me.
