The Conspiracy of Us - Page 13/77

“Nothing I said was a joke.” The girl gave a saccharine-sweet fake smile. Stellan frowned in response, and she rolled her eyes and disappeared back through the door.

“What was that?” I hurried to keep up with Stellan’s long strides.

“Elodie wanted to know who you were. It’s uncommon to see strangers at a gathering like this.”

“She was joking, right?”

Stellan laughed once. “I have things to do, so I’m going to take you to your room. Please stay there until I retrieve you.”

To my surprise, he didn’t lead us out of the Louvre, but farther into the maze of hallways off the front sitting room. “I’m staying here?”

“The Dauphins live here, and for the moment, you are their guest. So yes.”

“They live here. In the Louvre.”

“That’s what I said.”

Maybe it was better I wasn’t meeting my family right now. I couldn’t seem to put together a coherent thought, much less a whole sentence. It didn’t help that I hadn’t slept for even a second last night. I was starting to wonder if this was all a very vivid dream.

With one last glance back at the party, I followed Stellan, keeping a close eye on everything we passed. Paintings and tapestries and bookshelves lined the walls all the way upstairs. I ran a finger over one of the shelves we passed, and my eyes caught a row of books, all a deep purple, each with a different symbol in gold filigree etched into its spine. On the book farthest to the left was that sun from the plane and from Stellan’s tattoo. Above it was another symbol, like a starburst with long rays emanating from a dark center, and a phrase in a few languages, including English: Rule by Blood. Below the sun, in smaller lettering, and just French and English: Light in the Dark.

I slowed and scanned the rest—an olive branch, some kind of wheel, and many others—including the compass from Jack’s tattoo, on the third book from the end. They all had the same Rule by Blood phrase and starburst, but below Jack’s compass, it said Know the Way. I did a quick count. Twelve books total.

The Circle of Twelve, Stellan had called them. The Saxons were one, the Dauphins were another, and I assumed other families made up the rest. At least that made a modicum of sense.

A dark-haired older man came out of a room at the end of the hall, nodding at us as he passed, and I slowed. He wasn’t famous, but I couldn’t stop staring at him anyway. His eyes.

His eyes could almost have been deep blue, but they weren’t, not quite. No, they were a dark violet.

They were exactly the color of my eyes.

I had never, ever seen another person with my real eye color. The guy disappeared back into the party. He must be related to me. I had to bite my lip to keep a smile from spreading across my face.

•   •   •

The suite of rooms Stellan showed me to was less flashy than the rest of the house, but the high bed covered in navy brocade and the crystal-and-gold chandelier looked antique and expensive. The air in the room was a little musty, but the pillows were silky and crisp under my fingertips.

Stellan gestured inside. “Rest, wash up. I’ll come for you later.”

He left, and I found myself all alone, in a suite three times the size of my bedroom in Lakehaven. Probably as big as our entire apartment had been in New York. I crossed to the window and drew back the navy velvet curtains to reveal a view of the Louvre courtyard. Below the window, a long balcony stretched as far as I could see to the left and right, and far in the distance, the Eiffel Tower reached above the Paris skyline.

I stared at it for a long minute, then rooted around in my bag, pushing aside an unopened package of Junior Mints, my least favorite pair of sunglasses, and a library book I’d meant to return on the way home yesterday. I finally found my cell phone. No signal, which I should have guessed, since this was a US cell phone and Dorothy, we weren’t in Minnesota anymore. After a quick search around the room, I found a discreet landline tucked away on a desk in the corner, with a card beside it listing country codes for international calls. I dialed my mom’s phone. I wouldn’t let her force me to come home, but I was starting to feel bad. She was probably worried that I hadn’t answered my phone all night. Maybe she thought I’d snuck out to prom and gotten in a car accident, or even that I’d spent the night with some guy.

Not that I meant to spend prom with Jack if the night had gone as planned. Even now that I knew all his interest in me was purely professional, the thought made me blush annoyingly.

No answer on my mom’s phone.

I did a quick calculation and realized it was before dawn in the United States, and called two more times in case she was asleep. Maybe her phone was off. Or her battery had died.

Just in case she’d realized I was gone and was home already, I called our house, too, and when she didn’t answer there, I called her cell again.

“Hey,” I said when her voice mail picked up. “It’s me. I’m okay, don’t worry. I’m . . . in France. Sorry,” I said automatically, but then stopped. “No. I’m not sorry. I really want to meet my dad’s family, and I know you probably don’t want me to, but give me one day, okay? My phone doesn’t work here, so you won’t be able to reach me. I’ll call you back later. I have a lot of questions.”

I hung up, shaking a little, half shocked that I’d just said that, and half exhilarated. I’d made it. I was here. She’d get my message and be mad for a couple of days. I’d been lied to for sixteen years. Thinking I didn’t have anybody when, really, I had family.

I stared out over the Paris morning and thought the word to myself, over and over. Family.

CHAPTER 10

A pounding reverberated in my head and I bolted upright.

Where was I?

Warm afternoon light streamed through the window and lit the crushed-velvet comforter, still indented from my head, and I remembered. After I’d tried to call my mom, I’d taken a shower, and then I’d realized I hadn’t slept in twenty-four hours, so I was going to sit down for a minute before I went exploring . . .

The pounding came again. It was someone knocking at my door.

“Just a second,” I called, my voice thick with sleep.

I rubbed at my dried-out contact lenses and pulled the bedroom door open.

“If I’d known it was shower time, I would have brought a towel.” Stellan flicked his eyes over my suddenly too-small white bathrobe.