“I’ll test for impressions in case the Company has used those passages themselves,” Snap said, brightening at the opportunity to contribute his non-lethal supernatural talent.
“Excellent. In case we run into trouble, let’s have someone with plenty of combat experience in each party. Snap, you go with Flint. Thorn, see if you can wrangle the imp into some sort of usefulness. And our disaster”—he rested his icy eyes on my face—“is coming with me.”
Because he didn’t trust any of the others to keep a close enough eye on me? I bit back half a dozen snarky remarks I’d like to have tossed at him. After seeing the echoes of his history in our conversation with Tempest the other night, I’d made a point of not hassling him quite so much, and I’d been succeeding at that pretty well, if I did say so myself. Why ruin my winning streak just to get a tiny dig in?
“It’s a date,” I said instead, and was rewarded with the twitch of the hellhound shifter’s jaw.
My devourer wasn’t feeling quite so generous. I didn’t think he’d forgiven Omen for his past transgressions yet. Snap’s arm tightened around me. “I would prefer to stay with Sorsha. I can defend her if I need to.”
Omen gave him a baleful look. “I promise I have no nefarious intentions. She’ll be returned to you soon in approximately the same state she’s in now, depending on what we find in those tunnels.”
“I still think we would be a better pairing.”
“And I’ve already given my orders. If you don’t trust me to lead this group with all our best interests in mind anymore, you know where the door is.”
Omen’s tone had been mild, but Snap bristled. I squeezed his arm before he could continue the argument—or escalate it into something more. It’d been bad enough watching Omen and Thorn fighting over my fate.
“Hey,” I said. “I can defend myself pretty well, as both of you should remember. I’ll be fine. I’m sure if Omen has decided to get rid of me after all, he wouldn’t bother making up a big tourist expedition around it.”
Snap made a grumbling sound, but he accepted a kiss and simply hugged me extra hard before releasing me so I could join the hellhound shifter, who was now glowering at me. This date was off to a great start already.
Sad to say, if it had been a date, tramping around in Paris’s underground tunnels late into the night wouldn’t have been the worst I’d been on. It was definitely in the bottom ten, though. The cool, earthy-smelling air that filled the passages made me feel as if I was just shy of being buried alive. The low ceilings and general darkness didn’t help with that claustrophobic impression.
Omen let the glow of his hellhound skin emerge to cast an orange haze over the walls of stone, clay, and—oooh, even better, a stack of embedded bones. I tipped my head toward those. “Really your kind of place, huh, hellhound?”
“I don’t think I’ve slaughtered quite enough mortals in my time to make an entire catacomb out of their remains,” he replied, which wasn’t exactly reassuring considering there looked to be a few thousand bodies’ worth just within view.
We walked on until we reached the spot Omen said was beneath a chocolate factory the Company appeared to be doing business out of—I had to take his word for it, since one dreary wall looked pretty much the same as any other down here. Squinting in the dim light, I couldn’t make out any trap doors or other openings that might have given us a sneaky path up into the building.
“I could bring out some fire for a little more light,” I said, with a hesitation I couldn’t help even though I didn’t like it. Tempest’s remarks had clung to me like a nettle, with an equal amount of irritating prickling. If I was a phoenix, did that mean I was doomed to burn myself up with my power sooner or later?
And how much would I burn down with me if it came to that?
Omen considered me. He’d been surprisingly thrifty with the snark himself during our exploration. I couldn’t tell whether he was sizing me up for destructive potential or self-confidence.
“She isn’t always right, you know,” he said, as if that answered my offer.
“What?”
“Tempest. Sphinxes might be known for their wisdom, but they also speak in riddles, and sometimes they get the two tangled up in their heads. She isn’t all-knowing, and she has plenty of reasons to want to shake you up.” He paused, his gaze shifting to the passage around us. “And I can see well enough to say that this spot is a wash too. We’re done here. Come on.” He stalked on down the tunnel.
I picked up my pace to keep up with him. “You don’t think I’m actually a phoenix, then?”
“Oh, I believe that part. It’s the first explanation that’s really made sense, what with the whole habit of inadvertently setting yourself on fire. I just don’t think that necessarily means you’re going to burn up much else if you happen to go down in flames. Although I’d rather not experiment to find out.” He glanced back with a flash of a tight but obvious smile in the darkness. “I’m going to guess that you’re much better company uncharred.”
“Well, I’m glad to hear you’ve revised your initial opinion of me at least that much.”
He laughed. “You’ve remained full of surprises. Thankfully not all of them bad ones.”
As recommendations went, I’d take that.
“Have you ever known a phoenix before?” I asked. What had happened to other beings like me? Tempest had indicated there weren’t many of us.
Which Omen’s answer confirmed. “No,” he said. “And the stories I’ve heard have belonged more to mortals than shadowkind, so I have no faith in their accuracy. It could be that only a hybrid can become one. I highly doubt Tempest has ever met one either.”
Okay, I could take a little reassurance in that. She was just spouting off half-baked fables, not speaking from any kind of inside knowledge.
Omen led us through several increasingly narrow passages, which didn’t help with the suffocating sensation, and then up a set of rough stairs that ended at a span of thick wood paneling.
“The sphinx isn’t the only one who knows a few tricks around this city,” Omen said, and pressed a knob in the wood. One of the panels swung open to give us enough room to squeeze out into a small, dusty room stacked with chairs and boxes of tapered candles.
With a waxy scent tickling my nose, I followed Omen out the doorway at the other end and discovered that Versailles hadn’t used up all my capacity for awe.
We’d come out into a cathedral—and sweet chirping cherubs, what a cathedral it was. The stone ceiling arched so high above our heads I could have believed it brushed the sky. High over the altar area, intricate stained glass windows streaked lamplight from outside in patches of color across the tiled floor. The columns that stood at intervals all along the pews were immense enough that I wasn’t sure I could have wrapped my arms around one even if I’d cloned myself for extra help.
I wasn’t much for religion, but if any place could have convinced me of the grandeur of a life beyond this one, this would be it.
“Notre Dame,” Omen intoned beside me, gazing up at the towering stained glass windows. “I’ll never claim that mortals haven’t managed to make a few spectacular things in their time.”