“Yeah, it delivers her to Prince Charming,” I said, raising my eyebrows.
“Oh. I hadn’t considered that bit.…” Jonah trailed off. “Okay, I’ll go back to being the pumpkin, you go back to being Sleeping Beauty. We’ll work something out.”
For all intents and purposes, the street had only a few residents strolling up and down. They had scarves tied around their aging hair, wicker baskets in hand full of baguettes, cheese, and something else that smelled like old feet as it wafted past me in the draft. Coughing, I made a suitably unimpressed face and Jonah laughed at me.
At the top of the street, a main road presented itself and, on the opposite side, a bustling square with market stalls formed a rectangle in front of a medieval section of joined properties. Ruadhan and Brooke met us at the roadside.
“The market is bordered by thirteenth- and fifteenth-century houses. Look, you can see the top levels are properties that local folk and tourists with vacation apartments own. Underneath there are shops and cafés.” Pointing up and waggling his finger around, Ruadhan was like a proper tour guide.
“Ahhh, they are quite something,” I answered, impressed by the medieval houses that seemed to be floating in the air, seemingly supported only by wood and concrete arches below. Despite their age, it was amusing to see that it hadn’t stopped the residents from painting their shutters in bright blues and reds—not quite in keeping with the brown wooden crosses and elongated beams on the face of the properties, presumably designed by some celebrated architect of the era.
“Boring…” Brooke whined impatiently.
“Okay, okay. We’ll all walk around the market together.… Cessie.” Ruadhan handed me some bills and I shook my head in protest; I didn’t want his money.
“Listen, they don’t take Visa here! Pick some bits up for yourself for dinner, and anything else that takes your fancy, love.”
“Ahem!” Brooke huffed as I reluctantly took the paper from Ruadhan.
He handed her some cash, and she snatched it out of his hand so quickly a passerby might have thought it was a magic trick. Jonah had money; I’d seen him cleverly hit an ATM at the airport. I was starting to think I should have drawn some from the card Gabriel had given me. It was bad enough that I felt financially indebted to Gabriel; now I could add Ruadhan to that list. Fingering the notes in my hand, I felt awkward and I frowned knowing full well that he wouldn’t let me hand them back. Money that was not carefully earmarked for absolute essentials was not something I was used to possessing. Every penny I had ever earned had been spent with caution. I was not in the slightest bit comfortable being given money for nothing, and I was even less happy at being encouraged to spend it frivolously.
“Don’t you want to look around the cathedral?” Jonah asked, turning toward Ruadhan and cutting off my train of thought. He pointed in the direction of the grand building in the distance.
“I wouldn’t mind taking a look, in a little while,” he replied.
Jonah’s expression gave nothing away. I couldn’t help but think he wanted to snatch a few minutes on his own with me, but then I could be wrong.
We began traipsing around the market stalls. It didn’t take Brooke long to realize that this was not her type of shopping; there were no designer clothes anywhere to be seen. The only fabric on offer seemed to be that of 1970s-style vinyl tablecloths.
The market was alive and bustling with locals and tourists alike. We walked through the food section first. The meat counters made me want to gag; freshly slaughtered and nothing like what you’d find in the supermarket. As the coppery smell of blood drifted over me, I looked to my Vampire companions, anxious for a moment that the scent might have caused a reaction. Catching Jonah’s eye first, I was relieved to see that his irises were still hazel in color, and he tilted his head curiously at me in reply.
“Problem?” he asked as we continued to stroll.
“No. I mean, are you okay?” I said, darting my gaze between him and the meat dangling from the steel hooks.
“Please—” he sneered, stopping. “Dead animal blood? Doesn’t work like that. Sorry, beautiful. Gotta be fresh, from the veins of a human whose heart is still beating.”
“Oh,” I said thoughtfully.
Picking up his pace again, he added, “Besides, you eat with your eyes. I need to like what I see first.” Jonah winked at me.
I wasn’t sure what to make of that, so I shrugged it off.
We moved on swiftly, eventually coming to a stop at a bread stand, where I bought a baguette and a couple of croissants. I stood in line to purchase some brie from the cheese stand.
We’d only been shopping for fifteen minutes and already Brooke was getting agitated. “Man, this place sucks! You’d think we’d gone back in time forty years. Oh, jeez, look at that stand! Old women’s nylon negligees! Ugh!”
I think she actually stamped her feet on the ground.
Ruadhan rejoined us, having done his perimeter check.
“We good?” Jonah asked.
“Aye, all tourists spilling out of the coffee shops. It’s safe.”
Apologizing to the Frenchman who was attempting to sell me a window-washing service, I joined the conversation. “No one knows we’re here. If they did, they would have hit the house by now,” I pointed out.
Ruadhan nodded.
“So, Ruadhan, go and see your cathedral. Market hopping is no place for a man.” I winked at him; I’m not sure why. Spending too much time with Jonah lately perhaps.
He considered my proposal for a few moments before agreeing. “You’ll stay with Brooke and Jonah, you won’t separate. Your word?”
“I promise, now go! We’ll come and find you when we’re done.”
“Jonah, make sure you take the little love to see the Maison des Consuls. The rafters are carved with some amazing portrayals of animals, monsters, all sorts! You can’t come here without seeing them. It’s just around the corner there.” Ruadhan gestured like a proper Irishman, giving directions that weren’t necessary.
His enthusiasm was genuine; I could tell he loved places like this, steeped in history and culture. He was in his element.
Before finally leaving, Ruadhan took Jonah off for a conversation, pointing at various points in the square—exit points, I imagined.
“Do you want to get a coffee or something before we drag ourselves around the rest of this dump?” Brooke was disheartened; it was obvious by the very fact that she was prepared to let me stop for a drink.