Page 1 of Even Robots Die
France, year 2603
Prologue
Florentine
Igrew up too fast. I was barely a teen but I already needed to play the role of a mother.
I grew up too fast.
My mum ran away, leaving me and my four sisters to my dad, but he didn’t know how to do everything.
So I stepped in.
I always step in.
Like I’m trying to do right now.
Because he messed up once again.
And I have the feeling that I’m going to be the one suffering the repercussions of his actions.
Because he’s missing, and though he may mess up—often—I won’t let him stay that way for any reason.
The girls need him.
But getting him back may be harder than I thought.
Because the damn vampire who took him disappeared into thin air and I can’t find him anywhere in Paris.
I’ve been searching everywhere for days now, but I haven’t gone back to Notre Dame yet. That used to be where he lived, but there’s arumorin Paris that the vampire tried to kill his best friend and is sincepersona non gratathere.
His daughter still lives there, though, and she might be my only lead.
1
Florentine
This is the third time I’ve come to Notre Dame, and although I know that this building is a place of worship first, it’s almost impossible for me to forget the state the cathedral was in the first time I visited.
It was during the dragon’s wedding and there was food and alcohol nearly everywhere. But it didn’t really look like a party.
People don’t usually drown their sorrows at a party, do they?
I guess I would try to forget too if my brain could implode.
Well, a brain—not mine—did actually implode if we want to be technical. But then I found a way to stop this brain from imploding once again, and I'm sure Cassiopé and Léandre celebrated with a lot of banging.
I knock on the door, but no one comes.
I knock again, but don’t wait the second time. I just stroll inside in search of someone.
There are people around, obviously—people live inside the church after all—but no one that I know so far, so I head for Elhyor’s office.
The door is wide open, so I don’t bother knockingbefore entering.
The office looks dark, with cabinets on the sides and a huge desk made of dark wood. Sitting on the corner of it is Angélique, the crow shifter who has been deemed the devil's daughter ever since humanity discovered her black wings. Next to her, sitting on the chair behind the desk, is Elhyor, her husband.
“Where is Brice?” I ask without bothering with politeness.
