Page 2 of Even Vampires Bleed (Even Ever After #2)

Cassiopé

T oday, my best friend Angie is getting married.

She hasn’t been my best friend for long, but it’s all the same.

I’m standing right behind her with a bouquet when she says, “I do,” to Elhyor in her gloriously black and gold wedding dress. I know that this wedding isn’t out of love, but there is still potential for it.

I shouldn’t be the only one behind her, though.

Her best friend, Léandre, slouches against his chair in the first row as if he hasn’t slept in weeks. He looks unkept and slightly out of place.

Yes, he looks handsome with his golden brown wild curls and his cheekbones that look like they belong on one of those ancient Greek statues.

He’s wearing a light gray, human three piece suit that perfectly shows off his broad shoulders.

His hazel eyes that looked sad earlier aren’t even open anymore, and his lips stretch in a thin line. He must think that the wedding won’t go right.

Yes, he looks handsome, but he also looks so very sad and broken.

As the ceremony finishes, Angie disappears with her father, Michael.

I catch Elhyor’s eyes across the room and hurry to meet him at the door of Notre Dame.

“He looks angry,” I tell him as I fidget with the top layer of my baby blue dress, before remembering that I need to stop or my dress is going to look like it’s been chewed by a cow. I drop my hands, instead holding them in front of me.

Elhyor doesn’t need to ask me who I mean by “him”; he’s seen Michael like I have.

He doesn’t trust Angie completely, but he trusts Michael even less, and Angie might look like a queen in her black and gold dress and with her black wings out, but there might still be a part of her that thinks the ignoble man currently on the parvis is her father.

It’s difficult for me to see past the monster, but I think it’s the other way for her—it’s difficult to see past the man who is her father.

“I’ll get her. Safe and sound,” Elhyor responds before walking outside.

Now what to do?

I need to stay busy or else I’m going to imagine whatever is currently happening outside. My mind will conjure dozens of scenarios where something goes wrong, and I’m going to stress myself and crumple my dress.

I look down.

Of course, I’m fidgeting with my dress again.

I exhale loudly and turn my back in the direction Elhyor went.

I need something, or someone to keep me occupied.

On the other side of the room, I can see my father. He’s deep in conversation with Luc, and it’s most likely work or security related. So, I shouldn’t annoy him right now. He probably already has enough on his plate dealing with bird-shifters all over the place.

He’s always so calm and collected, but from the way his jaw is set, I know today it’s not the case. Having those pompous asses in Notre Dame necessitates high security—especially with so many people in attendance.

Who are the pompous asses? The bird shifters. They think they are better than any other shifters because they studied Earth folklore before Aléa—our original dimension—collided with Earth and were delighted to find that they could pass as angels.

They now rule the world and have millions of humans worshiping them as if they were gods.

Well, humans that don’t live in Paris. The humans of Paris have seen the way the angels and the archangels behave. Let’s just say they aren’t impressed. They aren’t impressed at all. Some of them even started rebelling against the power in place.

It’s just starting, but I can see it coming. We’re on the edge of a war, and it’s going to get ugly.

In the middle of all of those angels showing off their feathers, there is one who decided to hide them completely.

He’s who I’m trying to find now.

Léandre.

I don’t know what is going on in his head right now, but I feel like he could use a friend.

My eyes run around the inside of Notre Dame in search of those golden curls I admired during the ceremony, but he’s nowhere to be seen.

I look up and do the same with the balconies.

There he is, looking down at the people inside the church, his eyes vacant.

He looks exhausted, and yet I can see in the way he’s holding himself that he’s waiting for something.

That’s it. I’m going up. I’m not going to let him sulk alone.

No one should feel alone or so sad on a wedding day.

I release my dress—once again—and climb the stairs to his hiding place.