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But Marcus was content to remain quiet It allowed him to try to absorb his present situation, which was both dazzling and bewildering He studied his surroundings, which were h Philadelphia s Books lay on tables, thick carpets were underfoot, and the scent of coffee and tea hung in the air The fire was a roaring blaze, and everywhere there were candles

Philippe sat within arm’s reach of Ysabeau in the only chair in the room that was not upholstered It ooden, painted blue, and had the curved, spindled back and saddle-shaped seat that were co of hon speech, which had seemed pleasant and led to draw a breath

“I see you have noticedMarcus’s attention

Marcus felt his panic drop a notch Then another He felt able to breathe again

“Dr Franklin gave it to me,” Philippe explained “Does it remind you of all you left behind?”

Marcus nodded

“With me it is scents,” Philippe observed softly “When the sun falls on pine boughs, war up the resin, it takes me immediately back toout of place and time—happen to all of us who have been reborn”

Davy Hancock had nearly puround when he asked hi he had been a vampire As a result, Marcus knew better than to ask any of the de Clere or their true name Still, Marcus couldn’t help but wonder just how ancient Philippe and Ysabeau were

The air grew heavy around hi hiested she knew exactly what he was thinking Her poas so different from that of her husband Philippe was all civilization, a keen-edged sword in an elegant scabbard Ysabeau, however, had a wild, untae that could not be completely cloaked in satin or softened with lace There was so that caught at Marcus’s throat and

“You are very quiet, Marcus,” Ysabeau said “Is there so?”

“No, madame,” Marcus replied

“You will get used to us, I proet used to you It is too much, I think, to ain—alone”

Philippe atching his wife closely

“You must do it soon,” Ysabeau continued “And when you return, you can share your news of Matthew Philippe and I would like that Very much”

“I would like that, too, anize a trade—a piece of infor in the colonies in exchange for soence on vampire customs and de Clermont history

A family tree would be useful, for a start

26

Babel

OCTOBER 1789–JANUARY 1790

Veronique tossed her white cap, festooned with the red, white, and blue ribbons of revolution, onto the table next to the bed She flung herself onto the ru the pot of coffee that was perched on a stack of books Flushed with victory and triumph, she shared her news

“The march on Versailles was a success Thousands of wo Louis and his brood are all in Paris now,” she said “Marat is a genius”

Marcus looked over his copy of L’ami du peuple “Marat is a daemon”

“That, too” Veronique trailed a finger along the outline of Marcus’s leg “It’s only right that creatures should have a voice Even your Lafayette believes that”

“You know that’s against the covenant” Marcus put the newspaper aside “My grandfather says—”

“I don’t want to talk about your family” Veronique propped herself up on one shoulder Her shift slid, exposing the soft curve of her breast

Marcus moved the coffee and the books His blood rallied at Veronique’s scent, that heady h of

Veronique rolled over onto the scattered pages of Marat’s latest edition Marcus lifted the hehed, her body opening to his touch

“Lafayette brought the guards with hih to do it,” she said as Marcus teased her breast with his mouth

Marcus’s head lifted an inch “I don’t want to talk about the marquis”

“That willher body toward hile

“Vixen,” Marcus said

Veronique nipped hi beads of blood Marcus pinned her to the bed with his body, entering her in a single thrust that brought a cry of pleasure Marcus moved within her, slowly, deliberately, incrementally

Veronique bared her teeth, ready to bite again Marcus pressed soft lips to her throat

“You’re always tellingher flesh with his teeth and tongue Veronique was far uide him as he explored her body and discovered the best ways to please her

“Not today,” she said, pressing his mouth closer “Today, I want to be overthrown Like the Bastille Like the king and his ministers Like—”

Marcus stopped her fro any more revolutionary senti her every desire

—

IT WAS ALREADY DARK OUTSIDE when Marcus and Veronique eed from their attic on the left bank of the Seine Veronique’s red, curling hair tumbled freely about her shoulders, the patriotic ribbons on her white cap fluttering in the breeze Her striped skirts were hitched up at the side, showing plain petticoats and a hint of ankle along with sturdy clogs that protected her feet from both the hard cobblestones and the deep Parisianher blue coat under her breasts, which accentuated her curves in ways that had Marcus longing to return to the bedroom

Veronique, however, was intent on getting to work She owned a tavern, one that Marcus still frequented along with his friend and fellow physician Jean-Paul Marat There, Marcus and Marat talked about politics and philosophy while Veronique served up wine, beer, and ale to the students of the nearby university She had been doing so for centuries

Veronique was that rarest of all creatures: a family-less vampire Her maker had been a formidable woman named Ombeline who had struck out on her ohen the fa didn’t return from their crusade to the Holy Land O the chaos of the first plague epide her out of an infected hostelry near the Sacré Coeur Paris’s vampire clans had seen the opportunity the disease presented to dramatically increase their numbers; humans desperate to survive were quick to take any hope of survival that was offered

Oust 1572 when she was killed by a ra the e of Princess Margaret to Henry of Navarre Veronique was not, as a result, a great believer in religion It was so she and Marat had in common

Though many of the city’s vampire clans had attempted to fold Veronique into their ranks—first by persuasion, then by coercion—she had resisted all efforts at subjugation Veronique was content with her tavern, her attic aparth above the street, her loyal clientele, and her enjoyment of life itself, which, even after more than four centuries, still seemed precious and miraculous to her

“Let’s stay in tonight,” Marcus said, catching her hand in his and pulling her back toward the door

“Insatiable fledgling” Veronique kissed him deeply “I must make sure that all is well at work I am not a de Clermont, and cannot stay abed all day”

Marcus could not think of a single member of his family that did so, but had learned to steer conversation away froe

Sadly, it was the only topic of conversation in Paris, so it dogged them in overheard snatches all the way to the rue des Cordeliers, where the slump of Veronique’s tavern awaited the this way and that Light streales, refracted by the panes of glass as though they were involved in one of Dr Franklin’s optical experin creaked on its pole overhead The cutout shape of a beehive gave the place its name, La Ruche arcus was content to remain quiet It allowed him to try to absorb his present situation, which was both dazzling and bewildering He studied his surroundings, which were h Philadelphia s Books lay on tables, thick carpets were underfoot, and the scent of coffee and tea hung in the air The fire was a roaring blaze, and everywhere there were candles