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Before me, all I can make out of Hades is his heavy black wool overcoat. His booted feet fall heavily as he strides down the Paris sidewalk. How strange it must be to walk with such certainty.
Hades turns, glowering at me over his shoulder. “Ach, lass. Dinnae fall so far behind.”
I release a tiny sigh as I pick up my pace.
“How are you not in complete awe of this city?”
At my words, his footsteps slow. He peers at me as though only now seeing me properly after all this time.
“Ye’ve not been to Paris?”
Heat suffuses my cheeks and I shove my hands into the pocket of my overcoat, much the same as his. It doesn’t fit me at all but it’s only temporary, just until we get to wherever we are going.
I answer his question with a shake of my head. He grunts and his expression darkens for a moment. I assume that he has to be adding the fact to the towering stack of truths he has gleaned from me since he laid eyes on me.
He turns a corner, looking over his shoulder and putting his arm around me. Hades keeps pushing me forward, hurrying me. But I refuse to rush on my first morning in Paris. “Don’t you find it a little thrilling that we are here?”
I don’t have to look at him to know that he is rolling his eyes at my question. “No. I find it inconvenient.”
“Still! It’s freaking Paris, Hades. We are breathing in rarefied air here.”
“There is the same smog here as everywhere else. The same traffic and hectic rush ye would find in any city. It’s just harder to tell here because they trick ye with baked goods for sale every few feet.”
I stick my tongue out at him. “Even though we are in a rougher part of town and not anywhere as touristy as the Eiffel Tower or the Louvre, surely we can appreciate a good croissant du fromage. What’s the harm?”
Hades slides me a look. “It must be nice to live in yer world, Penny. In my world, it is always better to keep moving. Not to waste time dawdling and eating cheese-filled delicacies. That’s how people get killed in my world, Penny.”
My brows rise. “They stop to eat?”
He frowns, casting his gaze around the empty street. “People that slow down, take time to smell the roses. In my line of work, those idiots are the first ones to get their throats cut.”
A knot forms in my throat. I swallow and try to read his expression. But there is nothing to see there just now. He just looks as though he is stating a fact of life.
I open my mouth to fire something back. It’s on the tip of my tongue, at any rate.
But he comes to a stop, pulling me closer to a seemingly abandoned warehouse. As I watch, biting my lower lip, he presses a discreet button.
Hades jerks his chin upward, indicating that I should look up. When I do, I see a sleek camera, painted a dusty gray to blend in with the building.
There’s a loud mechanical buzzing sound that makes me startle. Hades pulls the door open wide, waving me in.
I step into a blindingly white hallway. There is not a speck of dust or dirt, nothing to see aside from a set of elegant white stairs. The hustle and bustle of the gray Paris street I just left behind is gone as soon as Hades closes the door behind us.
Gone, too, is the sound. Everything is muted and quiet here.
“Is this purgatory?” I quip, nervously rubbing my hands together.
“Clever,” he says drolly. “Come on.”
He leads the way up three flights of elegant white stairs. As we get to the top, the stairs open up into a large Paris warehouse that has been converted into a loft. It’s all one main space, the bedroom and the living room only separated from the kitchen by twenty or so feet. There are gorgeous windows everywhere I look, with their leaded panes still intact. Someone has gone to a ton of trouble to add an expensive-looking kitchen and a chic boho bedroom. I can see that this loft has a little balcony with just enough room for a polished metal table and two white-cushioned seats.
Everything is white marble and gleaming platinum, creamy off-white shag textures and unfinished concrete walls.
“Whoa.” I look around, taking in all the muted luxury with a mouth only slightly ajar. “This is not what I was expecting at all. Somebody put a lot of time and money into building this place.”
Hades takes off his bulky overcoat, throwing it carelessly over a white couch near the bed. “It’s a loan from a friend of a friend.”
“Well, that friend is loaded.” I shrug out of my own coat, folding it up and leaving it on the kitchen island.
