I bit back a grin. “Maybe I would like to go in there.”
“You don’t need any help,” he promised.
The enticing aroma gave way to soap-scented smoke billowing from the shop next to it through large open windows. Pillows and tables dotted its interiors, artistically scattered to make the space inviting. Resting on cushions, a few patrons passed a pipe back and forth.
“Opium,” Julian confirmed, moving us along. We passed a woman sitting at a bistro table, sipping an electric green liquid. She smiled as a man joined her with more of the strange drink. On and on it went. Shops filled with silk gowns and expensive suits, bookstores cluttered with leather tomes, darkly thrilling bars and restaurants serving items that were forbidden or illegal in the human world. At the end of the street, a large open market buzzed with activity. A banner hung over it, seeming to float in midair, which read L’apothicaire in thick, block lettering. Crates sat on tables, spilling their strange wares. Some of which were moving. I didn’t look too closely at those items. There were bottles and herbs and wild, unearthly plants.
“Mostly for potion making,” Julian said.
It was beautiful and overwhelming. “I could explore here for hours.”
“There are spots like this in every major city in the world–places where the magic runs so deep it’s like an oasis,” he explained. “I want to take you to them all.”
My heart stuttered at the thought of more days like this. Days with him full of magic and wonder and beauty–and the nights…my skin heated as I considered what they would be like.
I took a deep, steadying breath and noticed a man watching us from across the cobbled street. He waved at me. “I think someone recognizes you.”
He glanced up, and the ghost of a frown flitted across his face. A moment later, a man not much taller than me joined us. Cold, dark eyes studied me as he greeted Julian. “Rousseaux! I’d hoped to run into you.”
“Boucher.” Julian shook his hand. The man wore velvet gloves, and I wondered if he was a vampire. I wouldn’t have guessed it based on his appearance. He looked ordinary compared to the others I’d met of the species. “May I introduce Thea?”
Boucher moved to greet me with a kiss, but Julian growled.
Actually growled.
We both stared at him.
“I see you’ve made a match,” Boucher said in a dry tone. He continued to search my face. “If you’ll pardon me, I feel I know you from somewhere.”
“Thea was at the cocktail party in San Francisco.”
“Ah, yes, and what is your family name?”
I stiffened. “Melbourne.”
“Thea was one of the musicians,” Julian explained to him.
“Interesting.” If Boucher had opinions about our relationship, he kept it to himself. “I’m sure your mother is delighted to have a musician in the family.”
“Perhaps, if she can see past Thea’s humanity.” Bitterness coated Julian’s words.
Inside, I thrilled that he said nothing about Boucher’s assumption regarding our future. But I tamped down my excitement. It was nothing more than part of our arrangement. Of course, he needed to appear seriously attached to me.
“What do you play?” Boucher asked me.
“The cello.” Just saying it was painful. “When I’m home.”
“You must take her to see Berlioz. He’s working on something new,” he said to Julian.
“God help us,” Julian muttered.
“Hector Berlioz?” I asked, my eyes widening. “He’s been dead for centuries!”
“Don’t tell him that. I believe he convinced someone to turn him so he could finish an opera,” Julian said. “It’s still a work in progress.”
“You’re familiar with his work?” Boucher sounded impressed. “Now, you must take her. He’s been especially moody of late.”
“I was already on my way there. I’m hoping he has a cello.”
“Of course he does.” Boucher waved his hand, but then leaned in. “The question is–will he sell it to you?”
“Some things never change.” Julian smiled like Boucher had issued a challenge. “Will I see you tonight?”
“Yes, I am officially allowed to return to the Garnier.” He narrowed his eyes. “As if they could keep me out!”
“Perhaps we’ll see you.”
We said goodbye, and I turned on Julian. “I want to meet Berlioz.”
He laughed and pointed down a quiet side street. “This way.”
A music shop waited at the end of the cobblestone alley. But not just any music shop. In the windows, instruments played themselves.
Julian paused. “Listen.”
I closed my eyes and did as instructed. A familiar melody found its way to me, and I smiled.
“What do you hear?” he asked.
