Exeter sucked in a breath, exhaling quietly. They had managed to find each other more by accident than by design. Still, he was greatly relieved. “I promised Mia I’d buy her breakfast—shall we debrief?”

Tim brightened. “I almost forgot, we’re in Paris—Croque Monsieurs!” He gazed at the raised brows surrounding him. “It’s kind of like a grilled ham and cheese—only better.”

Mia lead the way out, with Exeter right behind her. They found the ancient brewery without much trouble, and the third secret passage. Tim ushered them ahead while he set off the miniature locators. As it turned out, they had surfaced in the basement of an apartment building just south of the Luxembourg Gardens. Finally, Tim poked his head aboveground and declared: “The bugs have been animated.”

It was well past dawn before they tucked themselves into a corner of Le Procope, 13 rue de l’Ancienne Comédie. “Bonjour, mademoiselles et messieurs. Café or tea?” Their waiter was wonderfully patient with Tim as he struggled to describe a Croque Monsieur, a café staple that hadn’t been invented yet. “A jovial French waiter at this hour of the morning.” Exeter winked, and ordered savory crepes. Once everyone had ordered and settled in with tea or coffee, he encouraged Mia to relate her encounter with the chatty creature he called the breath of lost souls.

“We conversed in Lewis Carroll speak,” Mia poured milk into her tea. “Oddly diverting—and I’m almost certain I saw a cloaked figure recede into a maelstrom of dust.”

“An entity unknown to me nearly abducted America.” Ping shared. “I was distracted momentarily by a strange gust of wind and debris—not unlike the one you describe, though we had no conversation. Whatever it was, came and went quickly.”

America’s almond shaped eyes grew round for a moment. “Prospero?”

“Very likely.” Exeter exhaled an impatient sigh. “It seems to me we know very little about Prospero—just the most cursory of facts, actually. For instance, we know that he is a titan of industry in the Outremer—part scientist, part wizard. You have often described him as a tyrant and a hoarder of aether. I assume that operation is gone now that Victor’s rebellion blew up Prospero’s refinery plants.” Exeter scrutinized the young inventor. “What do you know of Prospero, the man, Mr. Noggy? For instance, is he well known for his exploits with the ladies?”

“There are reports he’s bisexual—not like Ping—not sure what to call it in 1889,” Tim shoveled a spoonful of sugar into a second cup of coffee.

“He enjoys the company of men as well as women,” Exeter clarified.

Tim nodded. “Victor obsessed on it for a while. He thought he might be able to get to Prospero using prostitutes.”

Exeter suspected Tim Noggy knew more than he was telling. Originally, Tim had identified himself as an Australian, but as it turned out, he was brother to two very powerful men in the Outremer. Tim’s twin, Oakley, ran a highly successful technology company called Black Box, and the dwarf, Victor, self-proclaimed conscience of the three siblings, was a wily political tactician and rebellion leader. Exeter remained convinced the brothers had not revealed half of what they knew about Prospero, nor the history of the troubled, unraveling world they hailed from. He had shared his concerns about the brothers with Mia on several occasions. “Is Victor still in self-exile?” Exeter queried.

Tim slurped his coffee. “He checks in from time to time—he’s planning an outright assault on what’s left of the wizard’s resources. Victor believes we’ve got him on the run. Prospero is down to rationing his aether, and since it fuels everything in our world, including his own powers, he’s been forced underground.”

“Into the Paris catacombs.” America mused aloud.

A round face bobbed up and down. “Looks like it.” Tim’s eyes shifted back and forth, with a sparkle of mischief. “I’ve got something to show you when we get back to the hotel—something Victor recorded.”

Mia had ordered eggs scrambled in butter and chives. The corner of her mouth glistened—tempting him to taste. Instead, Exeter reached up and dabbed a napkin at the edge of her lip. “A bit of butter—” he winked, as his gaze swept across the table to Noggy. “So you do manage to communicate with Victor.”

“You asked about Prospero’s proclivities. They’re sort of . . .” Tim rocked his head back and forth. “Pornographic .”

Exeter stared at Tim. “Sort of?”

Tim eyed the young ladies at the table. “Okay, not sort of.”

America swallowed. “Have you . . . received any word of Phaeton?”

Tim nodded. “He’s holding his own—for the time being.”

“How long will it take the bugs to home in?” Exeter forked up a bit of ham and crepe in Hollandaise sauce.

“I expect to see some bug clusters by late afternoon—hard to say for sure. There’s a hundred and eighteen miles of quarry tunnel. And those are just the ones on the map.”

“You believe there’s more, off the map?” Exeter asked.

“I know it, mate. The bugs are going to find more than one or two warm bodies, especially the bugs I laid down in Outremer Paris. There’s an underground nightclub, art galleries—all kinds of illegal stuff going on in the catacombs. Prospero will have a hideout in both worlds—likely close together.”

Ping shot a piercing look over the rims of his dark glasses. “And how is Outremer Paris?”

The question stopped Tim’s fork midway to his mouth. “The Eiffel Tower is looking more like the leaning tower of Pisa—it has a few weeks at best.” He shoveled food and shrugged. “Just a guess.”

Exeter settled back and returned the genie’s uneasy gaze. If Prospero enjoyed relations with both sexes, he would be unduly intrigued with Ping and Jinn. “We’re going to need all your talents for this one, Mr. Ping.”

Ping smiled as he sipped his Darjeeling tea. Mysterious silver eyes met Exeter’s over the edge of his cup. “Truly.”


Mia finished her breakfast in relative silence—as they all did. Afterward, she and Exeter trailed behind the others as they crossed the Seine on the Pont Neuf. “We have an appointment for a showing at the House of Worth this morning. Would you like me to cancel?”

Mia paused to admire dark and light swirls of water rush under the bridge. “Call it a premonition, but I keep picturing a hasty retreat out of Paris. It might be best to get the shopping over with.”

“I hate to rush you, but . . .” Exeter pulled her close, rocking her gently in his arms. “Let’s get your new wardrobe selected and purchased, Baroness de Roos.”

His reference to her title caused a flare of heat to sweep over her cheeks. Mia glanced at the emerald on her ring finger. “I’m quite a tireless shopper, Baron de Roos. We shall get the job done in one day.” Exeter grabbed hold of her hand and maneuvered through a tangle of carriage traffic to the tree-lined quay that ran along the Seine.

“I believe it might be time to discuss the next phase of your training, my dear.”

He hadn’t let go of her hand; in fact, he wove those long tapered fingers through hers. Mia’s heart did a bit of dancing about in her chest. “And that would be?”

“It is time for you to get comfortable in your cat suit.” His eyes crinkled, slightly. “Valentine’s notes were quite adamant about the fact that these metamorphoses are hard on the system, at least initially. To give your body a chance to recover from each shift, you must try to remain a cat for a few hours at a time.”

Exeter stopped beside a low wall overlooking the river. “We have yet to acknowledge this to one another, but we have begun to communicate telepathically.” He curled a finger under her chin and tilted her face upward. “When you are the panther, I am quite sure you recognize me—and you understand what I say. On the roof of the train, you knew Jersey and Valentine as well, did you not?” He moved closer, searching her face. The harsh morning light played across his dark beard stubble. He appeared tired, though ever her handsome, stoic protector. The man she loved with all her heart.

“Of course she knows you, Exeter.” She smiled to reassure him. “She understands instinctively who is friend or foe.” In fact, the cat was a rather excellent judge of character; she found Exeter to be the most intriguing male in all the world. “While I am the cat, I am completely present—aware of all the elements, some of them beyond my ken. Her sensory abilities are raw and unfiltered and she is both wary as well as enthralled by . . . everything.”

For a moment, she could feel her feline essence; a dazzling bit of sunlight off the Seine caused her pupils to narrow into slits. “I am seeing the world again, through new eyes.”

“We might encourage you to shift for several hours tonight.” Exeter smiled somewhat wistfully. “But, I must ask one thing of you, Mia.”

She searched his face. He appeared hesitant, as though he was embarrassed to ask. “What is it, Exeter?”

“May I collar you?”

A flush of heat moved across Mia’s cheeks. “You would put me on a leash?” The wild feline inside stirred.

“Only because . . . I don’t want to lose you. The cat often runs off, you could get lost in the catacombs.” Exeter swept a stray wisp of hair away from her face, and tucked it under her cap. “My word, you are provocative in newsboy attire.”

Mia chewed on a bottom lip. “I’m not sure she will take to it—but I suppose we must try.” Myriad thoughts, many of them wild and wicked, accompanied this strange idea he proposed. The flutter in her stomach reminded her of their first night together—when he had fastened her wrists to the poster bed. Mia leaned against Exeter and rubbed her cheek against his.