Page 52 of Even Vampires Bleed
Doesn’t he know the strength of bears?
He’s looking at the pair of us as if he’s trying to analyze how we could really do that. Me opening anything and Elis—who isn’t really massive, to be honest—carrying everything we need.
“What are we carrying, anyway?” I finally ask to make Léandre stop staring at me.
“No one told you?” Léandre seems to be taken aback.
You and me both.
“We’re breaking into Michaël’s—well, the former one—curiosity cabinets.”
Léandre seems so proud of himself that I don’t want to kill his joy, but I have no idea what could be there.
He seems to realize he didn’t say enough because he speaks again.
“That’s what he called his living collection. They’re a sort of prisoners or just prizes that he wanted to keep alive just to prove he could,” he says as a shudder shakes him.
He pauses and then finally says something that makes sense why he’s the one Elhyor sent.
“I don’t know what you guys are getting from there, but I’m getting my father’s wings.”
26
Léandre
The girl is looking at me like I’ve grown a second head, and I can’t decide for the life of me if I find it exasperating or cute.
She looks familiar, and I’m not just saying that because I remember seeing her cry on my first day after my memory loss.
I think I know her from somewhere.
There’s something in my mind that tells me I’ve met her before, but I can’t pinpoint what it is or where that would be.
It wouldn’t matter, though, because she doesn’t seem to like me very much.
If we knew each other before my memory loss, we were probably far from friends.
“I thought you didn’t remember anything?” The girl—Cassiopé—tells me.
It’s worded weirdly because it sounds like a question, but I’m not sure she’s actually expecting an answer.
I still answer, anyway.
“I don’t. But I’ve learned a bit about him. And it’s undeniable that he’s my father. Physically, I mean. I also know from Angélique that he wasn’t always so… fractured. We’re all hoping that giving him back his wings will help, and I wanted to do that for him.”
I’m not saying that I doubt it’ll bring him back from the madness he seems to live in, though. I’m not sure they need to know.
I’m also not sure they need to know that I think my father will be even more broken—if his mind comes back—when he discovers that the son he raised is no longer.
Because so far, the time we have spent together is peaceful, but it’s also blissfully devoid of any memory between us.
We’re both content to just exist next to each other.
But I don’t see that working out so well if his mind is back to normal, though.
I hear the girl grumble something, but what, I have no idea.
It’s done so low that I know it wasn’t made for me to hear.
