Until I Die by Amy Plum Page A

was in love with you?”
    â€œLove is a strong word. But yes, she told me she was interested. I couldn’t reciprocate. But”—he glanced fleetingly at me, and then back to the figurine—“I was actually tempted to give it a try. I thought it might be my only chance at finding someone to be with.”
    I realized I was gaping at him. “But Vincent, she’s only fourteen. That’s kind of . . . I don’t know . . . pervy.”
    â€œShe was in her twenties at the time,” Vincent said, pressing his lips together to stifle a smile.
    â€œOh, yeah. Right,” I said, trying to process this weird new information.
    â€œNothing happened,” he reassured me. “At all. But I guess Violette sensed I might be open to it, and that probably encouraged her. We went out a couple of times, but as soon as I realized I couldn’t make myself feel something that wasn’t there, I ended it. I hadn’t actually seen her since then—it’s probably been about forty years. I asked JB to send another emissary on those errands.”
    â€œShe’s got to resent me for being with you, then.” I recalled Violette’s slipup at Philippe’s funeral—about revenants who were with humans—and wondered if she hadn’t actually said it on purpose. A little jab at the human who had succeeded in doing what she hadn’t: capturing Vincent’s heart.
    â€œActually, she’s talked to me about you already,” Vincent said. “She was pretty gracious about it and congratulated me on finding such a ‘lovely young lady.’” His imitation of her voice and ancient speech style made us both laugh. “No, seriously, she seems to really like you.”
    â€œSo it’s just Arthur who’s being a jerk?” I ventured.
    â€œSeems like,” he said, “even though that’s so untypical of him. He took off right after the meeting, obviously to avoid me. Violette asked me to forgive him. She said she had warned him not to bring it up but that he had felt obliged. She was going to talk to him later.”
    â€œThat was nice of her,” I said, warming to the strange girl. “It’s over, anyway. I just want to forget about it now.”
    And as I mentally turned the page on the afternoon’s humiliation, something occurred to me. “Vincent, I found something about revenants in Papy’s library last night.”
    â€œReally?” It was rare that I surprised Vincent instead of the other way around, but right now he looked like if I pushed him with one finger, he would keel right over. “Can I see it?”
    I led him to the study, peeking in first to make sure Papy wasn’t there. Checking the clock on his desk, I saw that he wouldn’t be closing the gallery for another half hour. We were safe.
    I pulled the bestiary out of its protective box and, placing it on Papy’s desk, turned to the revenant page. Vincent’s eyebrows shot up as he saw the illustrations. “Wow, this is really rare, Kate. There is almost nothing about revenants remaining in human book collections.”
    â€œWhy not?”
    He went on staring at the book as he spoke. “Dealers like your grandfather know that if they find anything, they can sell it for a fortune to a group of anonymous buyers. These collectors snatch up anything revenant-related before it even comes on the market.” Vincent glanced at me. “JB’s one of them. He has stacks of these old manuscripts in his library. I doubt Gaspard’s even worked his way through half of them.”
    â€œYeah, well, Papy must really treasure it, then,” I said, wondering why he would pass up a good sale to keep the book in his library. Maybe he hadn’t seen the revenant page and didn’t realize its value.
    Vincent’s attention was back on the book, and he mouthed the words to himself, following along with his