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S ebastian had no desire to leave his homeland and travel to Paris. Yet he could no longer stand idly by. His precious paintings had been away for more than a year with no reward. At the very least, he had to see them again.

And he knew it was time. That same pull he’d felt toward his sweet Muse from the moment they met had suddenly grown stronger overnight. Had she come closer? It was the only reason he could think of. Perhaps she had seen the paintings and come to find him!

He had to know. And while a horse carriage or ship were the travel choices he would feel most comfortable with, one was no longer an option and the other would be too slow.

Humans these days traveled in cars, buses, and planes.

He knew that much. But the thought of stepping into any of those metal beasts set his brain on fire with fear.

“But why? It isn’t that you can die,” Sebastian argued with himself as he again picked up the train ticket and held it up to the torchlight. Yes, a plane would certainly have been the fastest option. But a train kept him safely on the ground. It was the best compromise he could make.

He donned his leather cloak, his sunglasses, and tucked the train ticket into the pocket of his black jeans.

The train left just after sunset, but arrived well after sunrise.

It was going to be incredibly risky getting to the Louvre during the day, but as long as he kept his skin covered…

he shouldn’t begin to burn. Theoretically.

At least his travel to the train station would be safe enough.

Sebastian picked up his bag and began climbing the stairs into the castle proper.

The tether on his heart hummed and pulled as if it somehow knew he was headed in the right direction.

He paused at the windows and peeked through the drawn curtain, nodding when he saw the final rays of the sun slipping behind the horizon.

And before he knew it, he was seated in the rattling cabin of a train. Three other men slept around him to pass their overnight ride. Sebastian, on the other hand, remained wide awake and wound as tightly as the string of a violin.

The passage of the countryside was fascinating. “After all these years…I’m finally leaving my beloved Italy. As if I’m a modern man or something,” he murmured, his cold breath leaving no fog on the window to which he pressed his nose. “And for what? The possibility that I might finally find her?”

He certainly hoped so. If he didn’t find her in this life and mix new paints, would he ever be able to find her again?

It wasn’t likely. Her lineage had obviously left the homeland, and with all these modern modes of transportation, who knew how far they would go before she was reincarnated again!

The very thought of having to search the entire globe filled him with deep darkness.

And so, despite none of them ever having answered his prayers before, Sebastian called upon any existing gods in the heavens. “Let me find her,” he begged. “I can’t survive eternity without knowing I will eventually see her again. I’ll go mad.”

* * *

Paris, France. July 26, 2006

T he same prayer passed his lips a thousand times before he finally reached Paris.

Sun streamed through the glass and Sebastian had long since covered up completely.

He could feel the stares of his fellow passengers, but after this many centuries of being a vampire, he was used to such things.

As long as they only thought he was an eccentric dresser, he would be fine.

He tucked his bag under his arm and rose as the train ground to a halt. Silently, he waited for the other three men to leave the carriage before passing through the door himself and into the busy central passage of the train.

Crowds were even more terrifying than modern transportation.

There was an extra benefit to dressing so strangely, however; the crowd parted in Sebastian’s path as if he were a blade.

Once he stepped off and into the Parisian sunlight, he pulled his hood more firmly over his head and began searching for a taxi.

At least taxis he had used a few times back in Italy.

He waved a gloved hand and managed to flag one down.

Its driver looked at him through slitted eyes, but unlocked the doors.

“Get on in, then,” he said, and Sebastian slipped inside.

At least he hadn’t needed to figure out a way for the driver to invite him inside!

“The Louvre,” the vampire instructed, his French poor, but passable. The driver nodded and pulled away from the station into the morning traffic. Sebastian sat back hard against his seat, rubbing his chest where his heart pounded. A dull ache there grew more powerful with every passing kilometer.

Sights he’d only ever heard of filled his eyes and soul with wonder.

Books only prepared him so much for visiting France.

Paris smelled strongly of urine, he noted, and did his best to dampen his powerful sense of smell.

But the brightly dressed people and overall sense of excitement were a welcome distraction from his sick stomach.

“We’ve arrived.” The driver accepted Sebastian’s money and the vampire hurried into the pyramid entrance, hoping to get within the stone building and away from the sunshine as fast as possible.

He paid very little attention to most of the art; in truth, he’d met (and fought with) many of the featured artists in their lifetimes.

None of their works were as impressive as his, anyway. At least in his opinion.

Once safely inside, Sebastian dropped his hood and removed his sunglasses. He shook out his long, wavy brown hair and brushed it behind his left ear. Feeling much more comfortable, he began searching the building for his paintings.

His chest grew heavier and heavier as he walked, like there was a stone inside growing with each step. Was his proximity to his paintings after a full year really causing him that much excitement? That had to be the case.

As he turned the corner and spotted them, Sebastian stopped short.

Standing in front of the display with her hand extended was the subject of his longing.

His muscles froze and his hands began to tremble.

She seemed mesmerized by his art, just as he was mesmerized by her.

Sebastian stood for a long time, just staring at the woman as if she would disappear the moment he blinked.

“I particularly like the lighting in that one,” he finally said, taking a step into the room. The woman startled and pulled her hand back before turning to face the stranger. “Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you.”

She looked at him apologetically. “I'm sorry, I don't know what language you're speaking, but I only speak English.”

“Oh!” Sebastian replied, switching to English himself. “I didn't mean to startle you. Do you like the paintings?”

Both looked away to the art, then back to each other. “Yes, I've never seen anything like them. They're almost so lifelike that I'd believe the artist somehow managed to capture part of the woman's soul.”

“Indeed.” Sebastian scanned the stranger’s familiar face, but her eyes held no recognition. “I'm Sebastian, by the way.” He held out a gloved hand and, after a short pause, the woman took it.

“Isabel,” she replied and smiled. “Are you a big art fan, Sebastian?”

He nodded, giving her hand a squeeze before releasing it.

“I've been a painter for a very, very long time.” He took a few steps toward the paintings and gripped the velvet rope.

It gave him some amount of grounding from the urge to wrap his arms around Isabel and carry her all the way back to Italy.

“Oh, you're a painter? That's so cool! Do you visit here often?”

Sebastian shook his head. “It's my first time. You?”

“Me too. Have you ever thought about how it would feel to have your paintings somewhere like this? I can only imagine that's a dream for an artist.” She joined Sebastian at the rope, their bodies only millimeters away from touching.

He chuckled and softly bumped Isabel’s hip with his own. “It sure is. Though I never really thought about it happening to me. My art has always just been for me.”

“Artist status confirmed,” Isabel laughed.

“You sound just like my best friend Melody.

She barely even lets me see her drawings.

Which is a shame, because she's really talented.” She began chewing on her bottom lip and removed her hands from the rope.

“It was nice to meet you, Sebastian. I probably shouldn't take up any more of your day, though.

I'll give you a turn with the paintings.” Isabel extended her hand for another handshake, which Sebastian happily accepted.

“Oh, you're not taking up my day at all, Miss Isabel. Meeting you has been an absolute delight. In fact, I'd be even more delighted to accompany you through the rest of the gallery. If you'd allow that.”

Isabel looked deep into Sebastian’s dark eyes for a handful of breaths. “I…would allow that, yes,” she replied.

A huge grin took up residence on Sebastian's face, though he ensured his fangs remained tucked away. He extended his arm and Isabel took it hesitantly. “Have you seen the Mona Lisa yet?”

“Nope. But now that I've seen these, I'm ready to explore.” She gestured toward Sebastian's paintings and tucked herself closer to his side.

Warmth filled Sebastian’s chilled body, and not just from Isabel’s body heat. The familiarity of multiple lifetimes buzzed in his cells as the pair slowly strolled through the ancient stone halls.

“Did you know this building was originally built as a fortress?” Isabel asked, looking up to smile at Sebastian. “I did a lot of research before I came here. I'm a bit of a nerd like that.”

Sebastian chuckled and gave her arm a squeeze. “I did know that, actually, but there's nothing wrong with seeking knowledge. It's quite commendable, in my opinion.”

A flush spread across Isabel's cheeks, highlighting a sprinkling of freckles not otherwise easily seen. “You think so?”

“I absolutely do.” Sebastian placed his gloved hand over her arm and returned her smile. “I absolutely do.”