Read Online Die for Her A Die for Me Novella by Amy Plum - Free Book Online Page A

Ambrose.
    Vincent thanks us and proceeds directly to strategy. “Okay, Violette’s source is aware of a group of numa operating out of the Quartier de l’Horloge. Ambrose can come with me. We’re going to scope it out and find out if we can provoke a confrontation without alerting humans.
    “Gaspard, Kate is scheduled for fight training with you this morning. Can you proceed with that as if nothing has changed?” Gaspard nods. “And Jules, JB asked one of us to accompany Jeanne to and from her apartment today. Could you do the same for Kate?”
    I nod. Vincent leans forward and clasps my arm. “I’m trusting you with her life, Jules,” he says in a low voice. “You know how much she means to me.”
    Ditto , I think, but all I do is nod.

THIRTEEN
    THE NEXT WEEK IS A STUDY IN MASSACRE.
    The first day out with Ambrose, Vincent kills two numa. The next night Vincent gets home around midnight from taking Kate to the opera, and changes from tuxedo into fighting gear within minutes. We’re bending the rules a bit, the three of us walking without a volant spirit. But Vincent wants to keep the “experiment” as secretive as possible until he knows it’s going to work, and will only involve members of La Maison.
    We head straight for Pigalle, where a number of bars and strip clubs are owned by numa or their underlings. Usually—unless we’re saving a human—we avoid numa hangouts. As Ambrose says, it’s too tempting to put some steel through them, and up until now, ridding Paris of numa has not been our goal. Just as we don’t expect to see numa ringing our doorbell at La Maison, they won’t anticipate a tag team of bardia invading their territory. Which makes them easy targets.
    Apparently the word hasn’t gotten around numa circles about the two guys Vincent finished off yesterday, because we walk into Le Boudoir Nightclub around closing time and there’s a numa standing right in the entranceway. He’s huge enough to be a bouncer at one of Paris’s trendiest clubs, but the bespoke suit gives him away as the club’s owner. Our hands all touch the sword hilts under our coats—as if we need the introduction. He knows what we are. Gaping at the three of us like we’re the risen ghosts of humans he’s killed, he turns and runs to the back of the bar, locking himself in the office.
    “Excuse us, ladies,” Ambrose says to the two scantily clad dancers who sit on barstools, smoking. It smells like cigarettes and spiced rum, and the lights are so dim that it takes a few seconds for me to realize that the bar is empty.
    “You’re not likely to have much more business at this time on a Sunday night,” I say and hand them each a hundred-euro bill. “Is that enough to make you get your coats and go home?” They grin widely, disappear into a back room, and in under a minute are scampering, fully clothed, out the front door. I lock it behind them.
    “You wanna come out or should we come in?” Ambrose yells at the office door. He looks around at Vince and me and shrugs.
    “Kick it in,” says Vincent as we draw our swords. But before Ambrose can move, the numa comes out, swinging a battle-ax the size of a headstone.
    Ambrose whistles as he jumps aside. “Now that is an ax!” he says, leaning back to avoid the swinging blade.
    Vincent doesn’t need my help, but I advance and let the giant take a swipe at me. His asset is his bulk, and the commensurate power he can put behind his swings. Luckily I’m a lot faster than he is, or I would have lost an arm.
    I swing my sword, and he howls as my blade slices through his torso. He lifts his ax in both hands, ready to strike, when Vincent lunges forward and stabs him through the chest.
    The numa looks surprised as the steel penetrates his rib cage, and when it meets his heart, he drops his weapon and falls to his knees. Grabbing the blade with both hands, he attempts to pull it out, but suddenly slumps sideways, lying prone in the growing pool of blood.
    “Nice