Tags:
Romance,
Fantasy,
YA),
Young Adult Fiction,
Canada,
Young Adult,
teen,
teen fiction,
ya fiction,
redemption,
prophecy,
gargoyle,
Resurrection,
Montreal,
hearts of stone
work was if I could make her believe she ran into me—and not the other way around. From what I had learned of her, she seemed to be the suspicious type. This investigation wasn’t going as planned, but I hadn’t yet given up hope. I was sure her role in our awakening was pivotal.
I liked the way she walked. It was quick, and her stride had a purpose to it. She didn’t simply meander like many of her generation did. She had a destination in mind, and the way she set about to reach it, wherever it was, had made it intriguing.
She ducked into what appeared to be a random door. On both sides of the door were storefronts, but this entry led to a step of stairs to reach the spaces above the stores. A music-lesson studio. Yet, Aude wasn’t carrying any instruments. A notice caught my attention: “Help Wanted: Music Teachers. Apply Within.”
I wondered if I should risk it. Though she was aware I played the piano, the timing of us both being there to apply at the same time was too convenient. I would apply later, and if she was not also hired, I would quit the job.
I waited out of sight for several minutes, becoming fidgety in my ever-recurring role of watcher. The moment she came out, her phone rang and she glanced at the display and picked it up.
“Hi Lucy,” she said.
“Sure, I’ll come to your work.”
“See you soon.”
It seemed I needed to get to Café Bohémien before she did. I would come back to apply for the music teacher job later.
15
Aude
“Has he been there for a long time?” I ask Lucy, referring to Guillaume who I’ve spotted sipping on a frothy coffee in the far corner.
“No, he got here just a few minutes ago.”
I’m sure he is here hoping to see me; it would be too much of a coincidence otherwise. I take a deep breath and go to confront him.
“Are you following me?”
“No, I was here first, didn’t you notice?” His mouth sports a slight smirk.
“Yes, but you obviously knew I’d be here.”
“No, I didn’t know, but I had hoped you would be here.”
His smile is warm and charming. He seems harmless, and I’m usually a good judge in character.
“Would you sit with me?”
“I’m here to see Lucy,” I explain.
“I’ll be there in a few minutes,” she shouts to me from her spot behind the pastry display.
I look at Lucy then turn back to Guillaume. I sit in front of him and lean forward to whisper, “She’s curious about you, you know? I think she’s wondering what your intentions are.”
“And you?”
“Me what?”
“Are you curious about me?”
I don’t know how to answer that. Of course I’m curious. I know why I’m still here. Like the drums, he is a clue, but I can’t very well say that. So I say the obvious, “Of course I wonder what your intentions are. Why are you even here?”
When I lean back to take a more relaxed air, I knock my backpack off the chair’s arm and it falls to the ground emptying half its contents. Smooth move. I’m not normally the awkward type.
He kneels to help me pick everything up and pauses as he hands me my notebook.
“You did this?” he asks pointing to the design of hearts, thorns, flowers, and scribbles in blue, black, and red ink.
“I like to doodle,” I say.
“This is nicer than just doodling,” he says. “I really like it.”
“Thanks. It’s the logo I drew for Lucid Pill. I hope to get it put on some T-shirts one day.”
Our fingers touch as I take the book from his hand. I don’t know why it matters, but it does.
“So a musician and an artist, any other hidden talent? Maybe witchcraft?” His tone and lips indicate he is teasing, but his eyes appraise me with a freaky intensity.
“I’m afraid I’m a little rusty with the magic stuff,” I joke in response.
I notice the pamphlet for the water drum workshop lies on the floor and bend forward to pick it up. He gets it first.
He studies it.
“Native drumming workshop?”
“Do you always go through people’s private