The city of Versailles was an absolutely beautiful city, full to the brim with museums, restaurants, and tourists. The buildings were kept authentic but were also up to date, to attract as many tourists as possible.
To the young, raven haired boy wandering around, the city was nothing more than a giant, old, money making machine. Sure, the château was beautiful and the French food was exquisite, but, really, it wasn't worth your time. It was a boring old city, with boring old buildings filled with boring old people.
It was, however, the perfect city to execute his plan. He and his partner were surrounded by people. People walking, running, talking on their cell phones, playing on laptops, wearing suits, wearing expensive French clothes, and wearing outlandish baggy shorts coupled with flowered shirts. They both blended in perfectly.
His phone buzzed quietly in his pocket, seemingly to order him to answer. He did answer, but not because of the annoying vibrating. He answered because he knew who was calling him –only a few people had his number –and he was hoping for some good news.
"Bonjour," the young feminine, French voice greeted him, "How have things played out?"
He smiled, revealing sharp incisors, looking very much like a vampire in the fading light. "Perfectly, even with the minor setback with Alex. They have no idea who's behind this. They haven't been able to trace the e-mails and they haven't been able to make out a face from the cameras. Things are going exactly as planned."
The girl on the other end smiled eerily. "Tres bon," she said, sounding as happy as ever. "Have you recorded the video?"
He nodded, though he knew she couldn't see him. "Yes, I was just heading back to the hotel to finish the final editing. I'll send it tonight."
"Good. It says everything I wanted it to, correct?"
"Yes, every word. You can look at it yourself, if you'd like."
The girl paused. "Yes. We need to make sure that everything is perfect and that Alex –and the fairies –doesn't suspect anything at first. They cannot realize who's behind this too early. How far are you?"
"I'm on le Petite allee de Saint-Antoine." She disconnected without another word. He sighed, in an almost weary way. To an outsider, it would seem like she was the brains of the operation when, in reality, it was he. If this 'superior-than-thou' attitude didn't cease, he would have to put a stop to it himself.
****
The Trianon Palace was the only part that made this trip to Versailles worthwhile. The giant, white building sat on acres of lush, green, French grass, surrounded by beautifully sculpted bushes. What is more important, he wasn't paying for the hotel –not that she didn't try to make him pay.
"What's the point," she'd demanded angrily on the private jet three days earlier, "of having such a famous, rich family if you don't use their money?"
He'd chuckled. "Now, now mon cher," he'd cooed, "I'm paying for everything else. Besides, Foaly has all my aliases. If one of them were to pop up . . ." She'd rolled her eyes. In the end, she'd paid for the hotel.
The boy walked over the black-and-white, checkered marble floor, barely paying attention to the guests swiftly moving out of his path. His mind was miles away, rapidly throwing out options and outcomes of this little scheme. He really couldn't see any way that this could go wrong: the disguises were getting the centaur nowhere, the double had recorded the video, and the hotel was booked under her alias.
The rooms were on the second floor, but the boy wasn't in the mood to climb stairs –that would, not only involve exercise, but it would also get dust on his brand new suit –so he waltzed over to the gold elevator. After a simple push of a button, he was on his way.
His partner was sitting in one of the dark blue lounge seats –sticking out horribly in her red sundress –her blond hair twisted into a long braid, her eyes trained on a stack of papers in front of her. She looked up as he shut the door.
"Oh, good, you've arrived." She stood, and turned to face him. It was obvious she was trying to strike an impressive figure but it did no good as he was well aware that he was a great deal smarter than her. Also, he was a good foot taller. "I've just sent another e-mail. By the time Foaly gets it, traces it, and finds this computer," she gestured to the small laptop on the table that came with the room, "we'll be long gone." She smiled.
"Excellent." His long, pale fingers reached into the pocket of his jacket, pulling out a small camcorder. He held it, almost teasingly, in front of her. "I really don't think I need to edit this. Jesse did such a good job the first time."
She nodded. "That's perfect." She motioned to the suitcases piled up in the blue and black velvet chairs. "I've already packed our things. Our flight leaves at six for Aken."
He smiled his vampire smile as he began to upload the video. "Perfect. You've done well, mon cher."
She smiled back, looking, for the entire world, like a beautiful viper about to strike.
A/N: So, the discriptions I gave about the Trianon Palace were all correct, except for the golden elevator. I cannot claim that the Trianon has any elevator (I'd assume they do) nor that it is gold. Also, as of right now, the basic plot line is based off of one of Janet Evanovich's (many) books. I can't say which one just yet -- it would ruin my story line (which, for those of you who have read this particular book, I promise I only took the basic idea she had. Everything else will be changed), but I promise to give Mrs. Evanovich her full credit at the end of the story.
Thanks again to Eleni_pixie for the editing ^^
