When Dusk Comes, page 4
Erin hadn’t noticed that her hands had gripped Lucía’s waist of their own volition, but she found herself unwilling to release her. The unrelieved tension, and intense desire to taste Lucía’s lips, kept her feet glued in place.
“Do you have plans tonight?” Erin asked in as casual a tone as she could muster given the circumstances. She forced her grip to loosen but didn’t stop the smirk that appeared on her face when Lucía hesitated before finally stepping back and away from her.
“Tonight?” Lucía’s face was back to its stoic setting, but her voice was still raspy and oozing with desire. Erin grinned internally, yeah she wants me. Lucía cleared her throat before continuing. “I am quite certain that I do,” she responded coolly as she ran her fingers through her hair to make sure the short bob was back to perfectly composed.
Erin watched through hooded eyes as Lucía reached into the armoire for a blazer that matched her skirt. What she wouldn’t give to see this woman in a significantly more disheveled state.
“Well, if you aren’t too busy doing whatever fancy hotel people do, you want to grab a bite?” Erin jammed her hands in her back pockets for lack of anything better to do with them.
“A what?” Lucía turned her gaze from the mirror to Erin.
“A bite,” Erin repeated. “You know, like dinner or something?” She could not decipher the expression on Lucía’s face, but the lack of effervescent acceptance made her instantly regret asking.
Lucía made a noncommittal sound with her throat before opening the door. Samael and the Doublemint Twins were waiting for her on the other side, their faces hard and impassible. In a moment, Lucía was whisked away in a flurry of hushed tones. Erin wondered what kind of emergency would befit such a dramatic display. Did they run out of swan-shaped towels? She knew they shaped the damn swans out of regular towels, but still.
Once alone, Erin plopped herself onto Lucía’s bed and waited for the feeling to return to her extremities. The room still smelled like Lucía’s perfume. It didn’t help ease the spinning in her head. What the hell are you doing, she asked herself. Why did you ask her out on a date like a rook.
“Miss Lewis?” Blonde Bombshell called cheerfully from the open doorway. “We’re here.”
Erin nodded and put herself back together. Her saturated underwear clung rather uncomfortably to her body, but she couldn’t adjust herself without being crude, so she toughed it out until she could sneak into the bathroom.
“Here are your travel documents.” Blonde Bombshell handed Erin a tiny blue book.
Erin stared at it quizzically. It was a passport with her picture issued by the U.S. Department of State. She studied the photo before recognizing it from her permit to carry a concealed firearm. She couldn’t help being impressed.
“That’s Charlie Hendrix. She’ll assist you the rest of the way.” Blonde Bombshell pointed at the tall, long-haired brunette waiting near a black Range Rover at the front of the hangar. The girl waved, and Erin smiled in return.
She thanked the rest of the crew before disembarking from the jet. She couldn’t help scanning the open space to see if Lucía was still around, but it was obvious no one was left but the crew, Charlie, and what looked like a customs agent inspecting the plane. Erin provided him with her passport and tried not to look nervous about the undeclared handgun. He hardly spared her a glance before stamping her passport.
* * *
The afternoon was dreary as heavy gray clouds littered the sky, but Erin pulled on her sunglasses anyway. Her internal clock was all out of whack.
She wasn’t sure whether she wanted to sleep for fifteen hours or have breakfast.
“Hello, Miss Lewis. My name is Charlie,” the woman introduced herself and extended her hand in greeting. Erin was grateful that Charlie spoke English because she sure didn’t parle-vous Français. It also put her at ease that Charlie looked like she was in her early twenties; she could use a break from intense older women.
“Hi, just call me Erin,” she responded for what felt like the tenth time in two days.
“Erin, I’ll be taking you to the hotel where you can either settle in, or we can drop off your luggage and I can take you to see the sights,” Charlie
explained while taking a seat next to her in the SUV.
“I didn’t know Orleans was so big,” Erin commented as they drove towards the city. In the quick research she had done on her phone, it didn’t seem like it would be such a huge sprawling city as the one visible on the horizon.
“Oh, you’re not in Orleans,” Charlie responded with a chuckle. “We’re in Paris. You’ll travel to Orleans tomorrow to handle the matter for which your services have been retained,” she explained. “But don’t worry, it’s my job to show you around while you’re here,” Charlie finished pleasantly.
“Oh,” Erin replied in clear surprise. “All right.” She smiled and settled into her seat. A free day in Paris wasn’t exactly something to complain about. Erin’s mind drifted to Lucía. She didn’t exactly say no to dinner, she told herself, replaying the moment over and over in her head.
* * *
“It looks like no one was mortally wounded,” Samael explained as he stared down at his tablet. “I have dispatched Clyde and his team to help the injured.”
“Why is this happening, Samael?” Lucía asked through gritted teeth.
“What is the point of these terrorist acts if they have no attachment to some organization or ideology.” Frustration forced the vein in Lucía’s forehead to visibly pump. “There must be an end goal. Why not announce it?”
“Anarchists,” Samael guessed with a shrug.
Lucía let her weight fall against the backrest. Her mind zoomed through possibilities with inhuman speed. She had never enjoyed perfect support
from her subjects, but she had always tried to be fair, had earned loyalty.
She glanced at the thin gold watch on her wrist.
“Let us leave for Cologne.” Lucía announced the change in their itinerary. If she could see things for herself, she could understand what the hell was going on. She could feel it in her bones that there was nothing random about the recent acts of violence, and there was no way humans were the architects.
Samael offered a single silent nod, and his thumbs moved furiously to reschedule their afternoon plans in Paris.
Chapter Three
The rain clouds moved in again, forcing Charlie and Erin to duck into the Notre Dame Cathedral. It was grand, ornate, and impressive, just like the other tremendous works of art and architecture she had been dragged to today. Erin’s feet ached from walking, and they had yet to visit the Louvre, which Charlie enthusiastically announced was next.
“You might recognize this place from Victor Hugo’s famous work, The Hunchback of Notre Dame, ” Charlie explained as they walked further into the building.
Erin looked up at the incredible Gothic architecture. It’s not that she didn’t find the historical structures worthy of her attention, but with only one day in Paris she was hoping to do something less touristy.
“Amazing,” she commented. Her eyes scanned the stunning statues adorning the massive altar. The sheer size of the church made Erin feel microscopic, she imagined how it must have looked to a fourteenth century parishioner.
“There is a point in the square outside the cathedral from which all distances in Paris are measured. It’s a ground zero for the city, so to speak.
They say if a visitor stands there, she will come back to Paris during her lifetime,” Charlie notes as they continue touring the church.
“We better check it out once the rain stops,” Erin responded with a genuine, albeit tired, smile.
“Are you okay?” Charlie asked.
“Yeah, I’m great,” Erin replied as the balls of her feet throbbed. Her boots were clearly not made for walking.
“What’s wrong?” Charlie turned her body to face Erin more fully.
“No nothing, really.” Erin straightened as if that would sell her story.
Charlie stared at Erin, waiting for her charge to fess up, and she couldn’t deny the huge, blue, accusatory eyes. “All right, I don’t want you to think I’m ungrateful.”
“I won’t,” Charlie promised.
“I wonder if maybe we can do something that involves a little less walking? Something that won’t require us to wait in lines and wade through a sea of tourists?” Erin asked, wincing. She expected Charlie to call her an unappreciative brat and leave her to roam the streets of Paris alone.
Charlie regarded Erin for a moment. She searched her face, squinting as if waiting for a secret signal or password. “So you want to do something a little less educational?” she finally asked with a genuine laugh that bounced off the high arched ceiling and echoed throughout the centuries old building. The scores of visitors in the cathedral turned toward the pair in judgment. Charlie covered her mouth and donned an apologetic expression.
“Yeah, I mean, this is fun, but can we have a different kind of fun?”
Erin’s voice went up at the end, forcing a childlike innocence in her expression.
“All right.” Charlie grinned with a mischievous glint in her eye.
Before the pair exited the building, Charlie signaled for Erin to hang back while she poked her head out the door. It wasn’t an easy task with the
number of bodies crammed in the space.
“We have to give him the slip first,” Charlie whispered in Erin’s ear, her eyes gesturing to the driver sitting in the Range Rover outside the church.
“Why?” Erin asked, unsure of why they, two grown ass women, would need to sneak around anywhere. She sure as hell had no intention of asking anyone for permission, even if she was here on a job.
“He will insist on escorting us,” Charlie explained. “And I for one, would prefer maximum privacy,” she finished with a wink that made Erin smirk. Her earlier professional tour guide voice had been traded for a more relaxed tone. “You don’t have anything a bit subtler, do you?” she asked, glancing down at Erin’s red flannel shirt. Erin shook her head, experiencing embarrassment with her fashion choice for the second time in this extra long day. “Are you wearing anything underneath?”
“A tank top, but it’s like forty degrees outside,” Erin responded in a low voice. She could almost see the gears in Charlie’s head turning.
“That’s okay.” Charlie looked around the packed entryway and found the tallest men she could reach with her long wingspan. Erin watched in confusion as she said something to each of them in French, and one by one they moved toward Erin and turned their backs to her.
“What are you doing?”
“Take off your shirt,” Charlie instructed without answering her question. “Fast.”
Erin pulled off her leather jacket, which Charlie grabbed, and started unbuttoning. She said a silent prayer asking for forgiveness if her undressing here was a sin, because it most certainly felt wrong. Charlie took Erin’s shirt before returning her jacket, which Erin quickly put back on and zipped to her neck.
Charlie poked a lithe young man on the shoulder and said something in French. The boy, who couldn’t be over sixteen by Erin’s estimates, responded in Italian. Charlie said something back in Italian without missing a beat, and after a few more moments of conversation, Charlie traded Erin’s shirt for the kid’s thick gray scarf and dark green army cap. She also slipped him something from her back pocket, which Erin imagined was some cash.
“Put this on and tie your hair up in a bun,” Charlie instructed with a grin.
“Not that I don’t love doing some weird shit in a foreign city for absolutely no reason, but is all of this really necessary?” Erin whispered.
“Where is your sense of adventure?” Charlie countered. “Oh, I’m sorry, are you scared?” she asked in exaggerated alarm.
Erin narrowed her eyes at Charlie, indicating she had accepted the challenge, before working fast to coax her thick, wavy blonde mane into the hair tie Charlie pulled out of her own pony tail. She secured the hat and pulled the visor down over her forehead. The thick scarf covered her neck and part of her chin. The boy’s scent was pleasant, at least. Erin couldn’t imagine having to smell like Axe Body Spray the rest of the day.
“One last thing,” Charlie muttered, before taking Erin by the wrist and pulling her along as she pushed through the throng of people. Erin slammed into her back when Charlie stopped abruptly. “Even better.” Charlie released Erin’s arm to pull money out of a different pocket. She said something to an old man in French and then exchanged the cash for two cheap black umbrellas. “Now, when you step out, put your head down and walk fast. You will go straight until you get to the main road.”
“Got it,” she responded with a nod.
“You’re going to make a left there. Then you will continue on that street until you cross over a river,” Charlie continued.
“Left, right after crossing the river, then left on the first little side street to the Metro. Got it.” Erin rattled off the instructions, closing her eyes to visualize the path.
“You sure you’ve got it?” Charlie asked again, laughing at Erin’s serious expression.
“Hell yeah,” she confirmed. “Oh!” Erin covered her mouth when she remembered she was in a house of worship. “See you on the other side!”
she whispered before opening the umbrella and venturing out with purpose.
From the corner of her eye, she could see her red flannel walking away without her.
Erin trotted to join a clump of people just ahead of her. To a casual observer the group looked like any other family making a run for it before the rains returned. Erin kept her eye trained on the black SUV, but didn’t see any movement. She figured Charlie’s evasiveness as to why the subterfuge was necessary had more to do with Charlie not getting in trouble with her boss than it did with creating some kind of thrill for Erin.
Nice plan, Erin thought as she glanced back to see if Charlie had departed the church yet. All she could see was a sea of black umbrellas. She chuckled, and decided to save this trick in her rolodex for future use on one of her own investigations.
The faux family Erin had adopted as a disguise made a turn in the opposite direction after they all crossed the river. She looked behind her again, but there was still no sign of Charlie or the SUV. A little dread started to crawl up Erin’s throat. Damn, I hope I don’t get her in trouble, Erin’s guilt bubbled up quickly.
The path Erin followed led her to the subway station just as Charlie described. After several minutes spent anxiously staring at the stairwell, Erin checked her watch. What’s taking so damn long. The guilt grew exponentially until merciful relief came with the sound of footfalls on steps and Charlie’s grinning face.
“Jeez, what took you so long?” Erin asked when Charlie joined her near the automated ticket vendor. “I was freaking out!” she added as if that fact weren’t immediately apparent.
“You don’t say,” Charlie responded sarcastically, earning an eye roll from Erin. “Come on.” Charlie laughed as she purchased passes from the machine. The Parisian Metro was not unlike the subway Erin took every day in New York, although she would give it kudos for smelling a little less like urine than the one back home. Charlie and Erin ran across the platform to get on the train before the doors shut.
“Where are we going?” Erin asked when she caught her breath.
“Rue de Buci,” Charlie answered, already preparing to get off the Metro. “That’s where I live,” she pointed out before getting off the train and grabbing Erin by the wrist once more.
Erin and Charlie exited the subterranean station and spilled out onto the bustling picturesque street. There were small shops, markets with their produce on display, and cramped little tables lining the sidewalk outside cafes and restaurants. It reminded Erin of those little towns people put out as Christmas decorations, only life-sized.
As they walked into a lovely five-story building, Charlie greeted an old man in the lobby and continued to a tiny elevator. Erin eyed the narrow, ancient looking thing suspiciously before being unceremoniously shoved into the death trap by a forceful Charlie.
“Home sweet home,” Charlie announced with her key in the door.
“After you,” she instructed when the front door swung open.
“Merci,” Erin said with a smile. Charlie’s apartment was small but magnificent. Tall white walls were covered with colorful art pieces, but the focal point was definitely the view. The entire back wall was practically one huge open window, and the city below was nothing short of breathtaking.
“Be right back,” Charlie said before disappearing down a tight hallway.
Erin looked around the small room, which was probably the same size as her place, but the way Charlie had it set up made it appear so much more spacious. Erin took in the worn sketch framed near Charlie’s entryway. The faded drawing on thin yellow paper depicted a massive wolf with his jaws open. A tiny gold plate on the frame read Fenrir, 1874. Something about it made Erin uneasy, and she wandered away.
“Why is your washing machine in your kitchen?” Erin asked when Charlie returned. She had been staring at the thing for several minutes until deciding it was weird to bring your dirty underwear to the same place you stored food.
“You know, I’ve always wondered that too,” Charlie admitted with a laugh. “I’ve just been too embarrassed to ask anyone.” She tossed Erin a warm, long-sleeved shirt with the tags still on it. “Put this on so you don’t freeze, and let’s get moving. We have little time left.”
The duo ventured out onto the street once more. Erin decided she was in love with this place. If she ever returned to Paris, she hoped to come back with more time. She didn’t let her logical mind ruin the fantasy with thoughts of affordability or the reality of taking time off work. If she didn’t work she didn’t eat, and more importantly she couldn’t keep her dad’s lights on either.
They entered a wine shop through a tall but exquisitely narrow door and tried reds paired with deliciously stinky cheeses that Erin would have never tasted but for Charlie’s peer pressure. They sampled and nibbled until both were light headed and Charlie noticed the time.
