I Should Die

Who has not laid all of his cards on the table for his own people to see—despite the danger it could bring to them.” Theo picked up his water glass, took a drink, and then set it firmly on the table.
    “A leader who makes secret deals with the enemy should not be in the position of making decisions for his kindred at this crucial moment. If Violette is determined to overthrow the Paris revenants—with the Champion’s power or without—she is a great danger. And you will need someone you can all trust with your lives to lead you in this fight.”
    He leaned forward until Vincent met his eyes. “I know that Jean-Baptiste is like a father to you,” he said. “But I charge you, Vincent Delacroix, with relaying this information to your kindred. Otherwise, when the time comes and the battle begins, their blood will be on your hands.”

THIRTY-TWO
    WE SAID OUR GOOD-BYES TO THEODORE, PROMISING to update him on events in Paris, and then walked back to the hotel in silence. Vincent was deeply disturbed by what Theo had told him, and I could tell he was going over every detail of the conversation. “Are you okay?” I asked as we entered the hotel lobby.
    Vincent squeezed me to him and kissed the top of my head distractedly. “Yes. I mean, no. It’s just hard to imagine Jean-Baptiste hiding something like this from us for so many years. It makes me feel like I never really knew him.”
    “He was just trying to protect you all,” I said, playing devil’s advocate, but not really feeling it.
    “I know. But the way he did it, and the fact that he’s been offering the enemy his protection without informing us . . . I just don’t understand.”
    “I’m sorry,” I said, taking both of his hands in mine, and searched his face until he met my eyes.
    “No, I’m sorry,” Vincent said. “You don’t need to worry about this. And I can’t do anything about it until I get back to Paris. But you need to sleep if we are leaving first thing in the morning.” Vincent leaned down and lightly brushed his lips against mine, awakening a million tiny butterflies inside me. “I’ll walk you to your room.”
    I smelled them before I turned on the light. Lilacs. A huge spray of white lilacs in a vase on my bedside table. Their beauty and perfume transformed my plain hotel room into a scene from a Pre-Raphaelite painting. I looked up at Vincent. A mischievous smile stretched across his lips.
    “How did you do this?” I exclaimed. “I’ve been with you all day.”
    “I passed a note and some money to the front desk earlier,” he confessed, looking exceedingly proud of himself for pulling off the subterfuge. “You’ve told me you love the scent of lilacs. I thought it might bring you sweet dreams tonight, since I won’t be able to hover around whispering Pablo Neruda poems to your subconscious mind.”
    I took a deep whiff of their clean floral fragrance. Vincent leaned on the door frame, beaming with pleasure. “Do you want to come in?” I asked.
    He shook his head and gave me a crooked smile. “I didn’t rent a room for nothing. I haven’t forgotten the south of France and your reasonable but maddening request to wait. And in the light of that: You. Me. Beds. Bad idea. I’ll just take these”—he scooped up a couple of paperbacks from the bag—“and be on my way. Anything to keep my mind off the whole Jean-Baptiste saga until I get back to Paris and can actually do something about it.”
    “What will you do?” I asked, not really caring anymore about Jean-Baptiste. All I could think about was Vincent standing there with his tousled hair and broad shoulders half in and half out my hotel room. My body was thrumming with a mixture of resolve not to tempt him too far and desire to throw myself upon him before he could get away.
    “I haven’t decided yet,” he responded, rubbing the back of his neck worriedly. Obviously Vincent’s thoughts weren’t on the same level as mine. Or else he wouldn’t even be able to speak right now, much less strategize. I knew the decision I had made in the south of France wasn’t going to hold much longer.
    “Well, good night.” I threw my arms around his neck and gave him a long, slow kiss. In it was all of the day’s emotion, both the miracles and the mundane.
    I almost lost Vincent, and now I had him back. And not only him, but my life. My former life from before I pushed it away. And now my past and my present were joined and I was beginning to feel