My Bad Boy Werewolf Quadrillionaire Space Lord

Wealth and Misfortune

Okay, wow. Normally not a huge fan of deadpan snark, but vampy delivered a master-class skewering. Like listening to the very best in a music genre you don't like, you still can't help but respect listening to one of the greats.

Like how no one with working eardrums can stand country, but then someone puts on Johnny Cash and you think, 'oh, okay, you're good enough that I'll think of you as rock and roll now'.

So when I could finally get my abs and back to start holding me upright again, I could finally let my eyes wander around and take in Paris for the very first time in my life.

I've always wanted to come here. Even as a little girl, Paris had a majestic allure to it as the city of romance; the setting of many of the smutty Wattpad stories I still tend to read during cargo runs and surveying assignment. It was also the home of Fabulo, the majestic cover model for nearly all of those smutty Wattpad stories. Which meant that Paris had a special place in my heart.

And to be in Paris for the first time, it was...

It was...

Kinda underwhelming. London has more interesting architecture, Rome has better food, Vancouver just smells better, New York has pizza and ambition, Istanbul has a more vibrant culture, Shanghai has a better skyline...

Frankly, it was a lot like being in Toronto.

And Toronto sucks. Seriously, there's a whole song about it.

Luca had stomped off in a huff, directly into some sort of sandwich shop. With the tinted windows and the dim light of post-sunset, it was hard to say for certain, but the large man behind the counter threw his arms in the air as soon as Luca walked inside. The two men embraced, and the large man immediately scampered back behind the counter and began pointing at the items inside excitedly.

"This is a remarkable place," Alcuard said from beside me. I looked over to see the vampire staring down the street, towards a crowd of people beginning to form a line. It was too early, and the crowd looked too old for the place to be a nightclub, so I suspected it was some sort of restaurant.

"Remarkable? This is a backwater hovel," I disagreed very rationally and un-prejudiced like.

"Far from it. The people here, there's a contentedness in their mannerisms, an appreciation for beauty and small things," Alcuard explained cryptically, which is the most useless form of explanation. Just makes everything muddier. "See that crowd? No one in that line is here out of obligation, or habit. They are all here, without a single exception, to enjoy the food. And all of them will. There is wisdom in being able to savour the small joys of life."

Damn it! Stupid vampire making poignant philosophical points. Now I just look small-minded.

"Don't blame Izzy," a surprisingly unfamiliar voice said from just above our heads. I looked up to see BIRD flapping its wings lazily just above my head. Once I looked, it did a small turn and descended until it landed on my shoulder. "She has less unique culture than a bowl of yoghurt."

"Oh, so you're Canadian?" Luca asked from behind me. I found it easier to get irritated with him because he was wearing a shirt. The man was holding a small sandwich in each hand, though only one of them was unwrapped.

"Hey! They have culture!" I scathed.

"They do. America's," Luca retorted. And to preemptively stop the witty retort that I was totally about to come up with, he offered me the other sandwich. Which I opened cautiously, and allowed myself to take a small bite of.

And oh shit, no, just how is food so much better around Luca? I have paid good money for steak dinners that didn't taste as good as this fucking sandwich! It's a sandwich, the food is named after an English Lord, and if you know anything about them, it's that unless they use a deep fryer, they can't cook! There is no reason why a simple sandwich should be one of the top five meals of my life.