Read Online Until I Die by Amy Plum - Free Book Online

I do think you should see a doctor,” the man continued, looking concerned. “If for nothing else, you could use a few stitches on that head wound.”
“Thanks, Officer. At this point I just want to get home. This whole thing has really shaken me up.” I tried to refrain from smiling as Vincent played up his I’m-just-a-nineteen-year-old-regular-guy act.
The policeman nodded and, resting his pen on his notebook, walked around the desk to face us. He extended his hand, but when Vincent winced at the effort of raising his arm, he quickly withdrew it and instead clapped him carefully on the shoulder. “I just want to commend you for your heroic actions today, Monsieur Dutertre.”
I pursed my lips to stop another grin. Vincent must be a pro by now at creating random false identities at the drop of a hat.
“Promise me you’ll convince him to see a doctor,” the policeman said, turning to me. “Today.”
I nodded, and we followed him out of the office and through the mazelike préfecture , shaking hands again once we were in the lobby.
“Let’s go,” Vincent said as we reached the front door, and heading down the building’s grand staircase, we jumped directly into the backseat of a waiting car.
“Gaspard notified us of your acrobatic feats, Vin. Very James Bond. Nicely done,” Ambrose said as he pulled away from the curb. Vincent slumped down to put his head on my shoulder. “How you feeling, man? Clinic or home?”
“Feeling rough. I probably cracked a rib, but I don’t need a doctor.” Nice , I thought, feeling slightly stung. For me the rib was bruised . When would Vincent stop trying to protect me from the harsher realities of his existence?
“When are you dormant?” Ambrose asked.
“Got a couple of weeks,” Vincent said.
Ambrose peered at Vincent’s face in the rearview mirror. “Can that head wound wait till then?”
“I’m fine. Seriously.”
Ambrose shrugged. “Too bad we don’t scar. That doozy would amp your toughness quotient by about a hundred percent. Have the girls swooning in the streets.”
I leaned forward to give his shoulder a playful push.
“ Not that that’s what Vincent’s trying for, of course,” Ambrose backpedaled, holding one hand up in surrender. “It’s just the first thing that would have crossed my mind. If I were in his place.”
I shook my head and laughed. “Incorrigible. You are truly incorrigible, Ambrose.”
He smiled his blinding white smile. “I try, Katie-Lou.”

    Back at La Maison, a group of revenants was assembled for an informational meeting on numas with Violette, and as we arrived everyone gathered around to hear the details about the dramatic rescue. What with the mass inquisition and the large buffet lunch that Jeanne had laid out, it wasn’t until late afternoon that Vincent and I finally got a moment of peace.
We were settled in his room, sprawled on the couch in front of a crackling fire. Vincent’s eyes were closed, and he seemed to be dozing off.
I didn’t want to disturb him, but something had been bothering me ever since the accident that morning. “I know you’re tired, but can we talk?” I asked, brushing his hair off his face with my fingers.
Vincent opened one eye and looked at me warily. “Should I be scared?” he asked, only half joking.
“No,” I began, “it’s just about this morning …”
I was interrupted by a polite tapping at the door. Vincent rolled his eyes and roared, “What is it now?”
The door opened, and Arthur leaned in. “My excuses. Violette had just one more question about the beheading of Lucien …,” he began.
“I have already told Violette every single detail of every numa encounter I have ever had,” Vincent said with a groan. “I need one hour alone with Kate. Just one hour, and then I will join you and tell her everything I know. Again. Please, Arthur.”
Arthur nodded, frowning, and closed the door behind him. Vincent looked back at me, began to speak, and then shook his head and stood up.