Fatal velocity, comes on with a rush...
The writers and poets had always had a fascination with Paris, with the whole idea of its potential for romance, for love. And maybe that was partly why Lara had never quite liked it. She'd always been more partial to Italy, to Naples and Venice and Florence, among others. The Vatican too, but that was a different sort of pleasure. But Traducteurs sans Frontières was in Paris, and if she was going to bring the White Court's influence into Red Court territory, she needed to know if the non-profit and its leaders would be useful.
Which meant Paris.
The plane had touched down two hours ago, and her meeting with Ms. Thicke wasn't for another three, so Lara did what everyone would expect a tourist to Paris to do. She went to the Eiffel Tower.
Standing on the wide green lawn of the Champ de Mars, Lara watched the humans around her, elation and excitement on their faces, and wondered idly if she had time for a bite before her meeting.
Which meant Paris.
The plane had touched down two hours ago, and her meeting with Ms. Thicke wasn't for another three, so Lara did what everyone would expect a tourist to Paris to do. She went to the Eiffel Tower.
Standing on the wide green lawn of the Champ de Mars, Lara watched the humans around her, elation and excitement on their faces, and wondered idly if she had time for a bite before her meeting.