The Trailokya Trilogy, Book One: The Shadow Soul

Chapter 22

Dominic gave her a sidelong glance. Her warm demeanor and smile tugged at his heart. He found himself smiling back.

"No—no," Dominic replied. "Just hope he's not following."

"Not tonight. I gave him a sleeping pill. By the time he wakes, I'll be in Paris and he won't find me there until I'm a famous painter."

The woman laughed. Dominic felt intoxicated by her. She piqued his curiosity and other interests. Her pretty face turned to him and her eyes glinted with mischief. They were green or brown or something in between.

"What do they call you?" she asked.

"Dominic," he answered, turning toward her in the seat, running his arm along the door and the other along the back of the seat.

"I'm Madeleine." She offered her hand.

They shook hands. Lena entered his vision from the corner of his eye. Her little face was pinched up with distaste. She gained his attention for a brief glance, shaking her head to warn him about something she felt. Dominic turned away so he couldn't see her anymore. Lena's advice, rarely given, wasn't always the best. Her mistrust of the woman came of the residual panic she'd felt after being nearly drown by Leviathan. Madeleine was a godsend. They'd reach Paris in a couple hours instead of a couple of days. There was nothing to be concerned about.

"Pleasure to meet you, Madeleine," Dominic said.

"You have no idea. Are you hungry, Dominic? We should stop for something to eat when the sun rises. French food is a treat for Americans."

"Not yet, but I'm sure I will be starved by the time we get there."

"Good. Then we can stop for both of us. I need to sell this thing, so no one finds me. I think I will get a little yellow car."

Madeleine filled the time with talk about her dreams. She'd wanted to go to school for art, but her parents couldn't afford it. When she'd met her husband, Jules, he'd promised her the world. He was a good boy and she loved him dearly. That was all to change. When their marriage produced no children, he stopped paying for art lessons and stayed at work longer hours. She suspected he succumbed to having an affair, which was devastating to her at first, but soon it became the least of her worries. After a few years of the cold shoulder and a deepening rift, he turned to the bottle for comfort and used his fists and words to pound her down.

Sitting in the gold light of the sunrise, they enjoyed a cup of coffee and lighter conversation. The deeper she delved, the more he realized that he had said too much. Falling more in line with the disguise he used with the sheep farmers, he started talking about his term as an art student to throw her off the scent should she be a friend of his enemy. Madeleine was enthralled, perhaps seeing more there than he intended. Still, it put a smile on her face. Though she was mature, she was still quite lovely and her exuberance drew him in.

Madeleine then begged him to sell her car for her. Her reasoning was sound. They'd be looking for a woman of her description and if she traded the car, then they would have her trail. Dominic obliged, adding to Lena's distress. He offered her no consolation either. They parted for a good portion of the morning while he hunted down the perfect car. He returned to the café in a butter-toned Sprite.

A gasp escaped Dominic's pleased host. Madeleine giggled like a girl on Christmas, tears coming to her eyes. He felt proud for the first time in ages, strutting to the curb. She folded him in her arms and the hug lingered a beat too long. Lena glowered from her position on the rag roof. So what if he needed his ego stroked a little? It wasn't as though he was abandoning the mission

"Let's continue our drive, beautiful boy," Madeleine said, glowing in the noon sun. "I hope this new car will be as enjoyable as the last."

The pale yellow scarf covering her dark hair reminded him of home. He nodded and they climbed into her new dream car. It wasn't much of a change from the other one, but the police wouldn't be looking for a buttercream car if her husband turned her in. Lena sat with her arms crossed, glowering at the wind. He supposed she pouted because the woman hadn't shown the snakes beneath her wig or proven to be a banshee or vampire. Madeleine was just a woman, and wouldn't prove the girl's   jealousies right. She was merely a stroke of luck, a wayward traveler en route to her destiny like him.