Die for Her A Die for Me Novella

anymore.”
    “If she burns his body today . . .” Kate prods.
    “He’ll be gone,” Ambrose responds truthfully.
    The mournful look on her face touches me to the core. She loves Vincent body and soul. He is her true love. She will never feel for me what she does for him. But I will never stop loving her. And I have to learn to live with that.
    Kiss Kates for me , I ask Ambrose. Tell her to have courage; we’ll find Vince .
    He puts his massive arm around her, pulls her toward him, and plants a firm kiss on her cheek. “That’s from Jules. He says to tell you, ‘Courage, Kates. We’ll find your man .’”
    I leave. I can’t bear seeing the pain in her eyes and not being able to touch her. To console her. I join JB, Gaspard, and Arthur in the library, where they are strategizing—coming up with a plan to fit every eventuality.
    We wait all evening, but there is no word. Violette hasn’t attempted to contact us. Spirits are beginning to fall when, just after midnight, it happens.
    I’m coming down the stairs with Gaspard and Arthur when Kate bursts through the front door. Her eyes are wild, and she’s panting like she’s been running miles.
    She tells us that Vincent just came to her volant to say good-bye. He told her his body was in Violette’s Loire Valley castle being prepared for the fire. Then he was cut off midsentence as his body was immolated.
    Kate’s face is a study of shock. Her true love’s body has been destroyed, and we don’t know what’s happened to his spirit. And yet, she is still strong. Most would have crumbled in the face of such news, but she ran all the way back to us. To Vincent’s kindred. I am in awe of her bravery.
    As Gaspard leads Kate to the meeting room, I know what my old friend would want. The years of finishing each other’s sentences—the decades of speechless communication—allow his voice to come through as loudly as if he were here speaking it into my ear.
    Kate is my responsibility now. I must guard her with my life.

ONE
    IN THE DEAD OF NIGHT I SAT ON A BRIDGE SPANNING the Seine, watching a bouquet of crushed white lilies float toward the spotlit Eiffel Tower. I strained to listen for the words I thought I’d just heard. The words of a dead boy—of my boyfriend’s ghost. I could have sworn he spoke to me a second ago. Which was impossible.
    But there they were again—his words appearing once more in my mind, the two syllables cutting me as sharply as a whip crack.
    Mon ange.
    My heart hammered. “Vincent? Is that really you?” I asked with a trembling voice.
    Kate, can you hear me?
    “Vincent, you’re volant. Violette hasn’t destroyed you!” I leapt to my feet and spun around, searching anxiously for a glimpse of him, though I knew there would be nothing to see. I stood alone on the Pont des Arts. The surface of the water rippled and moved beneath me like the back of a great, dark serpent—the twinkling lights on the riverbanks reflected in its writhing smoothness. I shivered and pulled my coat tighter around myself.
    No. She hasn’t destroyed my corpse . . . yet .
    “Oh my God, Vincent, I was sure she had done it.” I wiped a tear from my cheek before a flood of others followed. Just moments earlier, I had given up all hope of ever hearing from him again. I had been positive that he was gone forever, his body burned by his enemy. But here he was. I didn’t understand. I choked back tears.
    Kate. Breathe , Vincent insisted.
    I exhaled slowly. “I can’t believe you’re here, talking to me. Where are you? Where did she take your body?”
    I’m lying dormant in Violette’s castle in the Loire Valley. I only became conscious a few minutes ago. As soon as I figured out what she was doing, I came to you. Vincent’s words sounded bleak. Hopeless.
    My hands shook as I whipped my phone out of my pocket. “Tell me exactly where you are. I’m calling Ambrose—he’ll get a group together and we’ll be right there.”
    It’s too late for a rescue, Kate. Violette has been waiting for my mind to awake, and now that I’m volant, she will burn my body. When I left, some of her henchmen were stoking a fire while she performed some kind of ancient ritual she claimed would bind my spirit to her once I’m reduced to ashes. I only have a few minutes, and I want to spend them with you.
    “It’s never too late,” I insisted. “We could try to stop whatever it is that Violette’s doing. I’m sure your kindred could come up with some kind