The Parisian Codex

Epilogue

The café was packed in the early evening. I closed my coat and turned up the collar to hide the stains of blood, waited for the owner to approach the window, and knocked twice on the pane. The café owner looked up, and I gave him a thumbs-up.

"We're back out!"

I walked away before the owner had time to assess my outfit. Our three-night fight against the Brotherhood of the Lamb had left me in a sorry state. My voice was still hoarse from them slitting my throat, and it would take a few days for my shoulders to fully recover.

My worst injury was something else.

I had had the opportunity to capture the demon who had once cursed me. With the magic ring, I could have enslaved him and taken my revenge. But I didn't—not out of fear but because the demon had become sympathetic to me. I was such a mooncalf!

***

Surprisingly thoughtful for a demon, Zagan had sent us a car. Jerome was at the wheel. He had his left arm in a sling and a bandage on his skull, but that didn't stop him from steering expertly through the narrow streets of Montmartre.

Next to me in the back seat, Romane was scratching Deva behind the ears. The puppy had curled up in a ball on her human's lap to enjoy the pampering.

I glanced at Jerome, busy with the Parisian city traffic, and leaned over to Romane. "This priestess business," I whispered, "is it serious?"

"Of course," she whispered back.

"What are you actually supposed to do?"

"Cernunnos knows he's been forgotten. He wants people to remember him and what he stands for. He wants followers and offerings."

"You're going to be a press agent for a Celtic god," I summarized.

She gave me a sidelong glance. "Do you mind?"

"I... No. I don't think I do. As long as you don't sell your soul to a demon, I guess you're in the clear. Cernunnos isn't a bad guy, is he?"

She shook her head gently, a tender smile on her lips. "What I meant was: it doesn't bother you that I'm becoming the priestess of a pagan god? I know you grew up in a monastery."

Ah. That.

Did Romane's relationship with Cernunnos offend my convictions? What were my beliefs, anyway? What was my relationship with the Christian god?

Ever since Zagan had cursed me, my only conviction was that my soul was damned, that God had rejected me. So I'd spent seven centuries hiding from Him, avoiding His name, His churches and anything else that might draw His attention. It seemed the safest thing to do, but it wasn't the bravest. And it didn't answer Romane's question.

Did I have a problem with her relationship with Cernunnos?

"No problem at all," I said. "If priesthood's your thing, knock yourself out. Cernunnos pulled a thorn out of our side, so I'm not going to blame you for working for him."

Cernunnos had helped us thwart God's plan—or angel's if Zagan was right.

Damn! I trusted a demon and a pagan god to fight against the will of "my" god.

Forget my vampire nature and serial killer past. It was my current actions that made me an enemy of Christianity. It wasn't this century that I'd earn back my place in Heaven.

The car came to a halt. Jerome had driven us back to our apartment building. During the whole journey, we hadn't exchanged a single word with our driver. I wanted to thank him for fighting the Brotherhood under Montmartre, and ask him about Laurel and Hardy.

I didn't.

I merely nodded as I got out of the car. True to form, Romane graced him with a resounding "thank you" and a bright smile. Neither was enough to cheer Jerome up. The situation must have been bleak for Mathieu's men.

***

Romane took Deva into the courtyard, and I returned to my office.

The door had been changed. A metal leaf was now attached to a reinforced frame. I didn't have the key.

I made my way back up the stairs to the hall, and dug deep into my pockets. Somewhere, I had the key to my mailbox...

I found the key and opened the box. Amid my mail, a bulging envelope contained my new set of keys and a note from the locksmith.

"Ah!" I thought as I opened my new door. "Go and break that, Hardy!"

The smell of kitty litter assaulted my nostrils, and Kitten's furious mewing tore at my ears. I placed the mail on my desk. Kitten was on top of the metal cupboard, making his displeasure known.

"You," I said, "we need to talk. I heard Romane summoned a demon, and you're the one who showed up."

Kitten fell silent and stared at me. Then he flopped down on his bottom, lifted a paw and set about washing his nether regions.

I cleaned his crate, filled his bowls and poured myself a drink.

I'd done everything I could to keep people away from me. Just a few days earlier, I'd thought I'd succeeded. Now my neighbor was a necromancer in reconversion. Her puppy had returned from the dead. My two enemies had merged, and I found myself with a demon/mafioso on my hands. And my cat was a being straight out of Hell.

In the end, I was still isolated from the human world. I'd just picked up some companions as unusual as myself.

I raised my glass in Kitten's direction. "Now that we've stopped the Apocalypse, I can rest."

Kitten interrupted his grooming, stared at me, and let out the most terrifying laugh I'd ever heard.

THE END—FOR NOW