“You see, the royal family lives here,” Pol y said, “but we live here, too. They want us here. After al , we’re the best protection they have. We live together in what you might cal a friendly harmony.
It serves us both. With this huge forest, we have unlimited hunting, a great place to live, and great company. And in turn, we help protect the royal family. Not to mention that a few of them are our kind, anyway.”
Sam looked at her, surprised.
“Marie Antoinette?” he asked.
Pol y nodded slightly, as if trying to keep it a secret, but unable to.
“But don’t tel anybody,” she said. “There are a few others, too. But most of the Royals are human. They want to be among us. But there are strict rules here, and it’s not al owed. It’s us and them, and we’re not al owed to cross that line. There are certain members of the royal family we don’t want to have too much power. And Marie insists on it, too.
“Anyway, this is just the most fabulous place. I can’t imagine it ever coming to an end. There’s party after party, endless dances, bal s, concerts….There’s going to be the most fabulous one this week. An opera, actual y. I already have my outfit picked out.”
As they approached the doors, several servants scurried to open them. The golden doors were massive, and Sam looked at them, awestruck, as he walked through.
Pol y marched right down a huge, marble corridor, as if she owned the place, and Sam hurried to keep up. As they walked, Sam looked al around, amazed by the opulence.
They walked down endless corridors made of marble, with enormous crystal chandeliers hanging low, reflecting the light off of dozens of gilded mirrors. The sun poured in and reflected the light in every direction.
They went through door after door, and final y entered a huge parlor, made of marble, with columns al around it.
Several guards stood at attention as Pol y entered.
Pol y just giggled, apparently immune to them. “We also get to train here,” she said. “Their facilities are the best. Aiden has us on a hard schedule. I’m surprised that he let me break to come get you. You must be pretty important.”
“So where is he?” Sam asked. “When wil I get to meet him?”
“My, you are impatient, aren’t you? He’s a very busy man.
He might not choose to meet you for some time. Or he might summon you right away. Don’t worry, you’l know when he wants to see you. Give it time. In the meantime, I’ve been asked to show you to your room.”
“My room?” Sam asked, surprised. “Wait a second. I didn’t say I could stay here. Like I said, I real y need to find my sister,” Sam began to protest—but at that moment, a huge set of double doors opened before them.
An entourage of royals suddenly entered, surrounding a woman in the middle, who they carried on a royal throne.
They set her down, and as they did, Pol y bent low, gesturing for Sam to do the same. He did.
A woman who could have only been Marie Antoinette, slowly got down, took several steps towards them, and stopped right before Sam, gesturing for him to rise. He did.
She looked Sam up and down, as if he were an object of interest.
“So, you’re the new boy,” she said, expressionless. Her green eyes burned with an intensity he’d never seen, and he could, indeed, sense that she was one of theirs.
Final y, after what seemed like forever, she nodded.
“Interesting.”
With that, she walked right past them, and her entourage quickly fol owed.
But one person lingered behind, clearly one of the royals.
She looked to be about 17, and was dressed in a royal blue, velvet gown, from head to toe. She had the fairest skin that Sam had ever seen, set against long, curly blonde hair, and piercing aqua eyes. She fixed them right on Sam, locking them onto his.
He felt helpless in her gaze, unable to look anywhere else.
She was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen.
After several seconds, she took a step forward, and stared even closer into his eyes. She reached out her hand, palm down, clearly expecting him to kiss it. She moved slowly, proudly.
Sam took her hand, and was electrified at the touch of her skin. He pul ed her fingertips close, and kissed them.
“Pol y?” the girl said. “Aren’t you going to introduce us?”
It wasn’t a question. It was a command.
Pol y cleared her throat, reluctantly.
“Kendra, Sam,” she said. “Sam, Kendra.”
Kendra, Sam thought, staring into her eyes, taken aback by how aggressively she stared back at him, as if he were already her property.
“Sam,” she echoed, smiling. “A bit simple. But I like it.”
CHAPTER SIX
Kyle smashed through the stone sarcophagus with a single punch. It smashed into a mil ion bits, and he walked right out of the standing coffin, on his feet, and ready for action.
He wheeled and looked about, ready to fight anyone who approached. In fact, he was hoping that someone approached him for a fight. This time travel had been particularly annoying, and he was ready to let his rage out on someone.
But as he looked around, to his disappointment, he saw that the chamber was empty. It was just him.
Slowly, his rage began to cool. At least he’d landed in the right place, and he could already sense, the right time. He knew that he was more of a veteran of time travel than Caitlin, and he could place himself more specifical y. He looked around, and to his satisfaction, saw that he landed exactly where he’d wanted to be: Les Invalides.
Les Invalides was a place he’d always loved, one that had been important to the more evil of his kind. A mausoleum, deep underground, it was made of marble, beautiful y adorned, sarcophagi lining its wal s. The building had a cylindrical shape, with a soaring, hundred foot ceiling, culminating in a dome. It was a somber place, the perfect resting place for al of France’s elite soldiers. It was also the place, Kyle knew, that Napoleon would one day be buried.
But not yet. It was only 1789, and Napoleon, that little bastard, was stil alive. One of Kyle’s favorites of his own kind. He would be about 20 years old now, Kyle realized, stil starting his career.
He wouldn’t be buried in this place for some time to come.
Of course, being of his race, Napoleon’s burial was just a ruse, just a way to let the human masses think he was one of theirs.
Kyle smiled at the thought of it. Here he was, in Napoleon’s final resting place, before Napoleon had even “died.” He would look forward to seeing him again, to reminiscing about old times. He was, after al , one of few people of his kind that Kyle semi-respected. But he was also an arrogant little bastard. Kyle would have to slap him into shape.