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I chuckle despite the rising tension in my chest. It was foolish of me to bring my daughter with me, but what other choice do I have? We don’t have any relatives with whom I can drop her off but taking her into the middle of a dangerous situation also isn’t ideal.
The sooner I find Raquel and Chet, the better.
It’s a seven-hour drive from Montpellier to Paris, so I have plenty of time to formulate a plan. There’s a good chance Favreaux isn’t the only one who received Van Straus’ kill order. I throw a cautionary look over my shoulder more than once to make sure we’re not being tailed. So far, the coast is clear, but as we draw closer to the city and the streets become more compact, I’m going to have to be extra careful. Who knows what dangers await just around the corner?
It’s nightfall by the time we arrive in Paris. I hate driving in this city. People are fucking reckless on these old, cobblestone roads. Parisians are out in full force, clogging the streets as they celebrate the impending new year. It only adds to my stress.
“Are we there yet?” Odette whines.
“Yes, we are. Come on, quickly.”
“Where are we?”
I look up at the building, keeping an eye out for anything suspicious. It’s been twenty years, but the address has been burned into the back of my mind. This was one of the very first safehouses I acquired when I was still an active member of the Red Ravens. I never thought I’d step foot in this place again after I retired, but I never got around to selling it either. Somewhere deep down, I wanted to be prepared if trouble ever found me again.
The building itself is squished between a boulangerie and an old bookstore. The street-level door is sealed shut with several locks and thick chains, coated from top to bottom in several layers of colorful graffiti. I’ve long since lost the keys, but that’s fine. There’s another, more efficient way of getting in.
With Odette in my arms, her head resting against the crook of my neck, I push the panel of the disconnected doorbell aside to reveal an electronic keypad. The locks were for show, something to deter would-be squatters. On the other side of the door, the whirr and click of locks sliding out of place reach my ears. I push the door open with my foot, staring up at the musty stairwell leading to the top floor.
The coast is clear.
It’s almost nostalgic, being back here. Apart from the thick layer of dust covering every available surface, everything is exactly how I remember it. There’s a small cot in the corner, a couple of books I left half-read. The electricity still works, but that’s not what I’m happiest to see. The far wall is practically a shrine to my old weapons collection.
Odette gasps, staring at all the guns and knives and ammo. “Papa, are you a spy?”
I shake my head. “I wish I were. I think that’d be much cooler —Don’t touch, Odette.”
My daughter picks at the hem of her shirt. “Are you a bad guy, Papa?” she asks me in a small, quiet voice. “Monsieur Favreaux said you stole from people. That’s bad, right?”
I crouch down before her, taking her little hands in mine. This wasn’t a conversation I was prepared to have, now or ever. “Do you remember that story about Robin Hood?”
Odette nods, her eyes big and curious. “Yes. I like Maid Marian.”
I smile gently. “Well… Robin Hood stole from people.”
“But he gave it to the poor.”
“Exactly. Stealing from peopleisbad, ma chérie, you’re right. But sometimes, when you’re a grown up, you have to do bad things to do the right things. Does that make sense?”
My daughter shakes her head. “No.”
I can’t help but laugh softly. “Many years ago, I was like Robin Hood. I took from the undeserving to help those who couldn’t help themselves. I don’t do that anymore, though.”
“Oh,” she mumbles quietly. “That’s cool.”
I smirk. “You think so?”
“Yes, very cool.”
I take a deep breath, glancing around at the space. “Raquel… She does the same thing. And right now, she’s in trouble.”
“So you’re going to rescue her?”
“I’m going to try.”
“Aww…” comes a familiar voice from around the corner.
I stiffen, pulling Odette behind me so I can use my body as a shield. My heart is in my throat. Someone’s here. I don’t know how they managed to get inside, but it’s clear they’ve been waiting for me.
