Die Once More
Page 19

 Amy Plum

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I shake my head. “Not anyone. Especially persuasion. That one’s a no-brainer. From what you told me about the Factory days, everyone was drawn to you—practically enchanted by you. And seeing how you interact with your New York kindred, I’d say that hasn’t changed.”
I pause. Breathe. “You’re a lot like Kate in that way. She charmed everyone at La Maison. She even got Jean-Baptiste to let her into the house before he knew who she was. But it wasn’t a surface-level thing. She wasn’t using her charms to manipulate us. We were charmed because she was honestly good. A genuine person who cared about others and wasn’t in it for herself. Which seems a lot like you.”
Ava squeezes her eyes together, and then exhales hard. She holds out a hand to me, and I scoot forward until her feet are tucked under my legs. I fold my hands under my arms and wait.
Finally she speaks. “Bran says there’s no question. I’ve just come into my powers. For the last couple of weeks, I’ve been seeing these crazy red columns of light at a distance. I thought something was wrong with my eyes. Or my mind. Something that would fix itself the next time I was dormant. But when I awoke, it was still there. Bran says Kate has the same thing—it shows her where numa are located.”
She looks at me for confirmation. I nod.
She winces, then continues. “And for the last few weeks, I’ve been able to hear my kindred’s thoughts if they’re directed toward me. When I tried, I was able to speak to Theodore’s mind. That’s when he decided to send me here.”
“Try now,” I say. “Tell me something.”
Ava looks me in the eyes, and in the same way I hear a volant spirit speak to my mind, I hear her say, I don’t want to be the Champion, Jules.
Yep. She’s got the Champion mind-speak. “Why?” I respond aloud. “Because you’re going to be the focus of attention again? Because if it’s just a matter of self-doubt, I’ve got to tell you, Ava—you are capable. Fate, or whatever, wouldn’t have chosen you if you weren’t.”
Ava bites her lip. “Even if I’m capable . . . I don’t want it. I wish it were anyone else. What am I going to do, Jules?”
I reach forward and take her hands in mine. “I’ll tell you what you’re going to do, Ava. You’re going to be the strongest leader New York’s kindred have ever seen. You’ve got it in you. That’s as clear as day. The way people watched you at the council meeting, crowded around you afterward, listened to every word you said—you’re a natural-born leader. And the day we walked together, you handled that situation better than any seasoned bardia I’ve seen: You commanded your team with precision, were merciless with your foes, and not only managed the humans on the spot, but from what I heard, made sure they got protection from their numa contacts afterward.”
She smiles at me sadly.
“Ava, you have not only survived the dark side of human selfishness without it crushing you, but you adapted to your immortality by building a safe life for yourself where you could handle the fallout from your human years. I have no question you’ll find a way to carve out a niche for the privacy that you need within the public role you’re going to have to accept. And do you know why?” I ask.
“Why?” she responds.
“Because, Ava, you are supremely kick-ass.”
She bursts out laughing.
“And don’t think I give that compliment to just anyone,” I continue with a playful grin. “No, that one’s got to be earned. You started by scaring the crap out of me, and now that I know you better and am a little less frightened, you impress me to no end.”
She shakes her head, and her smile is irrepressible. And I feel like I’ve just won the lottery for bringing that out in her. For making her happy. It’s kind of like the expansive, helium-balloon feeling I used to have when I flirted with a girl—flattered her ego with beautiful words. But back then, I was doing it for myself too. To get something in return: a kiss, a date, a night.
This time it’s one-way only. I know she doesn’t like me, I mean . . . at least she doesn’t still hate me. But it is exceedingly clear that making Ava feel good will get me nowhere. And that is actually fine.
I am sitting in a Brittany field, next to a prehistoric monument, in the presence of a woman who embodies New York for me, when I have my revelation. I realize I am ready to put aside my sadness in order to follow the possibility of doing something good.
I’ve been focusing this whole time on what I wanted—what I thought I needed—and suffering because I couldn’t have it. Maybe my road to recovery will involve turning that on its head and focusing on giving someone else what they need.
Ava needs a friend right now. Someone to lean on. Someone to help her with the challenge she faces. I could be that person for her. And with this flash of inspiration, I finally feel I’ve turned a page.
FOURTEEN
WE RETURN TO PARIS THE NEXT DAY. AVA IS TOO deep in thought to want conversation. I respect her silence and fill the hours with old French songs that I find on Ambrose’s iPod, singing along heartily to Edith Piaf and Michel Polnareff, which makes her smile. And my resolve to pour my energy into supporting Ava suddenly seems like the most brilliant idea I’ve ever had. A smiling Ava is definitely something I could get used to.
Bran makes sure the news of a new Champion precedes us to La Maison, and the welcome when we arrive is enthusiastic to the point of overwhelming Ava once again. She stays in her room for the first day, after taking some books from Gaspard’s library, claiming she needs to catch up on Champion lore. But after hiding out for twenty-four hours, she suddenly appears, ready to meet with my kindred to mine them for information and talk strategy.
And though the wedding preparations seem to multiply and accelerate, and the house begins filling with guests, everyone makes it a priority to spend time with Ava. She gratefully accepts my self-appointed role of assistant and counselor and rewards me with a smile every time she sees me waiting for her in the corner of the library that Gaspard designated for the informal meetings.
While Kate talks with Ava about the particulars of her experience as Champion, I take mental notes as to how I, and the New York revenants, can make things easier for her. How some of the weight of her responsibility can be placed on others. How an infrastructure can be set up to support her.