"Dan. Don't even ask." Amy said sharply, raising her voice above La Vanille Os 's newest hit single blaring out of the car's built in stereo system, "Because I will not answer."
"But this is taking forever!" Dan whined back, also raising his voice, now that Nellie had begun screeching out the lyrics in French in tune with the song.
"Just be quiet. We're only forty-five minutes from Paris, and-" Amy stopped mid-sentence and Dan grinned mischievously at her.
"Told me."
Amy scowled, and the rickety-looking van approached the City of Lights. Meanwhile, the two presumably dead teenagers were having their own trials.
...
The two dead teenagers in question walked up to a large shopping center in central Cherbourg, trying to remain inconspicuous. Natalie had insisted upon it after pointing out the clothes they were wearing.
"We look like refugees." she had told Zai, who thought that was a terrible comparison. "We HAVE to get new clothes. How can I go up against bloodthirsty Vespers when I feel like a peasant fisherman?"
In the end, Zai had grudgingly agreed that their attire was not the best for any upcoming situations, not the mention that the clothes they were wearing were given to them by Vespers, which would only make it easier for them.
"But," he had told Natalie firmly, "You have to agree on something: I won't make any unnecessary or insulting comments on your clothes if you don't on mine."
"Deal." Natalie agreed, a little confused. What Zai didn't tell her was that his mother had given him lessons on how to dress starting when he was four, and she had only one rule: Wear whatever makes you comfortable, as long as it's appropriate for the occasion. Zai's mother had never taught her children to follow rules passed by society, because Cahills rarely follow rules, anyway. So Zai and his siblings had grown up in their secluded corner of Hawaii, not caring other people had expected them to do. And it worked; deep in the Vesper headquarters, where files on every incident concerning the Vespers were kept, the file on the Kului-Kabalui team stated that they had the highest number of successful missions in the history of modern Cahill rivalry. And three of it's members were under the age of eighteen.
"Here." Natalie handed something to Zai. It was a Visa Black card.
"Natalie..." he started, at once for a loss for words, but she cut him off.
"It's Ian's leftover one, but it still has a good amount of money on it. It should suffice." She pulled out her own card. "We'll meet here in, say, two hours?"
"Natalie..." Zai tried again, but she rushed on.
"And, if you have any money left over, we can buy provisions. I mean, we'll more likely die of Vespers killing us than starvation, but we can never be too prepared, right?"
"Natalie!" Zai interrupted.
"What?" Natalie asked innocently, tilting her head to one side.
"Do you think this is practical? What, if the mall is infested with Vespers? Did you really look at all possible case-scenarios? We are, as I'm quite sure you're aware, fugitives." Zai stated his question coolly, waiting for her reaction.
"I know we are! And I also know that you need to relax. Being over-cautious is nearly as dangerous as being under-cautious!"
Frosty anger flared in Zai's eyes. "Well, pardon me for trying to keep us alive! Because I think you'd be doing a bang-up job on your own. If you hadn't drowned in the English Channel, that is."
"Ugh!" Natalie flung her hands into the air, spun on her heels, and stormed off, ponytail swinging severely. Zai frowned and turned in the opposite direction, slipping the card into his pocket. Why were the Lucians he met always so...Ugh?
...
"We're back home, Baby, home in...PARIIIIIIIIIIIS!" Nellie screeched along with Pingouins en Plastiqu 's Paris-famous Back in Paris, Baby.
"Ironically, we are currently entering the Paris city limits." Alistair mused to himself. Amy and Dan were both asleep, Matt and Elias were consulting a holographic map of the Himalayas, and Ian was staring bleakly out of the window.
"Paris is a Lucian stronghold." Ian said quietly. Everyone turned, startled. This was the first time Ian spoke since they left Calais.
"We were already planning to meet some of my contacts; do you have another plan in mind?" Elias asked, a little miffed that Ian might be trying to take charge of the situation. After the incident a few years ago, Elias had an obsessive need to prove himself useful.
"No, no, your contacts are perfectly reliable. It just...feels nice to be safe. Ian ran a hand through his hair. "We'll have to stop by the Lucian stronghold here and..."
Everybody else nodded gravely. Nellie turned the wheel, sending up a shower of sparks as the rear fender grated against the street.
...
Zai set his purchase on the cashier's counter.
"Did you find everything you were looking for, monsieur?" The smiling cashier asked, swiping Zai's card.
"Oui, madamoiselle." Zai nodded, scowling, and swept a raven lock out of his eye. He accepted his bag and left quickly, casting a cautionary glance over his shoulder as he hurried out. This was the purchase he was most worried about; it wasn't hard to guess what a renegade Cahill operative was buying a kitchen supply store. Suffice it to say that Zai was perfectly comfortable hurling stainless-steel carving knives with deadly accuracy at irritating Vespers (or he liked to think so, despite the fact that his aim was always just a little high). Next stop: His clothes. Zai looked around one more time and slipped off.
...
Natalie Kabra was disgusted. While Paris was one of the fashion capitols of the world, Cherbourg was definitely lacking in the style department. Didn't it occur to anyone that a desperate fashionista on the run from brutish killers might only find solace in her clothing? Was it so hard to simply build a Harrods? Natalie's department-store-bought jeans and sweater did not meet her expectations. She turned and stormed out of the store, flicking her hair over her shoulder in annoyance in case the manager happened to be looking.
After an hour of getting a manicure, pedicure, and fixing her split-end, Natalie decided to give clothes another shot. She rode an escalator to the top floor and began hunting for stores. Pushing through throngs of shoppers, she saw, in front of her, shining as if it were pure gold, her savior: A Chanel boutique.
Natalie pushed open the doors of her sixth favorite clothing line botique, breathing in the familiar smell of good clothes. Ian had insisted that the smell was just in her head, but, Natalie had argued, who was the expert?
After collecting several items (jackets, shoes, purses, leggings, a pair of sunglasses, trousers, etc), Natalie brought her purchases to the front counter. The woman behind the counter smiled pleasantly at her as she rung up her selections. She didn't say a word, which was unusual. Natalie glanced around the store. She noticed that she was the only person inside. This was also strange; Natalie usually saw many shoppers in the same store she shopped in, sometimes reporters asking her about her mother. But this boutique was dead. She turned back to the cashier. She was still Natalie's shoes, which was the first item she'd picked up. Natalie looked at the woman's name tag : Veronica Espergale.
At that moment, everything clicked in Natalie's head. There is no Chanel boutique in Cherbourg. Which means this is a trap. Which means...
Natalie snatched her items off the counter. The woman's eyes glittered behind her glasses.
"So you figured it out, Cahill?" she sneered in an accent that was not at all French, reaching up to her hairline. Natalie watched in shock as she removed her black wig and latex face mask, revealing the blond, striking features of one of the most feared Vespers to the Lucian circles: Cheyenne Wyoming.
...
Nellie parked the hideous van outside the Lucian stronghold in Paris, finally grinding the vehicle to a stop.
"Ready?" she asked the car's passengers. Dan exchanged a glance with Amy. The last time they had been here, they were not welcome.
"Don't worry." Ian reassured them. "As long as they see me, you'll be fine."
"We'll split up." Matt told them. "Elias, Alistair, and I will plan our next trip, and you guys go and speak with the Board."
"Right." Nellie nodded as she strode up to the main gates. She stabbed her finger down on the red button on the post.
Identification, please. A monotonous voice requested. Ian placed his eye in front of the iris scanner. A moment later, the gate buzzed open.
Welcome, Ian Kabra.
Ian led them up to a set of magnificent double doors. Matt reached out and opened them, holding them for everyone. Inside, Lucian agents bustled around in the foyer.
"We'll meet back here in half an hour." Ian said quietly to Matt. He turned toward a grand marble stairway. Some of the Lucians saw the forlorn expression on his face and began muttering. Ian, being the leader of the Lucian branch, ignored them. He turned to the Cahills and Nellie. "Let's go."
...
Natalie turned and fled the store, still clutching her items close to her chest. Wyoming jumped over the counter and made a grab for her hair, but Natalie ducked out of the doorway.
"Get back here, brat!" she yelled, lunging for Natalie. Natalie darted behind a gaggle of shoppers toting bags, risking a glance behind her. Cheyenne had pulled her phone, on which she then tapped a command into the screen. Immediately, an announcement blared over the P.A system.
Attention ! Il y a une menace à la sécurité du centre commercial. Tous les acheteurs se coucher sur le sol et couvrent vos chefs avec vos mains.
Instantly, there was a panic. Shoppers started screaming and dove to the floor, covering their heads with their hands, their bags, and even each other in fear of a bomb threat. Natalie dropped to the ground in an attempt not to be spotted, but she knew Cheyenne had given herself the upper hand.
If I stay like this, I'll be totally vulnerable when she picks me out. But if I run, I'll be exposed.
Before she could decide what to do, Cheyenne spotted her.
"Don't move, Cahill." Cheyenne slipped a black knife out of her pocket. At that moment, Natalie sprang to her feet, flinging a clothes-filled bag from the nearest shopper. Clothing flew through the air, distracting Cheyenne momentarily, and Natalie used the second of diversion to jump into an open elevator. She hit 'ground' and the elevator started to descend, at seeming one inch per hour. Natalie realized that she had made a dire mistake; Cheyenne could wait at the bottom of the elevator shaft for her. The door opened, and Natalie was relatively relieved to see that Cheyenne was just leaping down the last few steps, her feet tangled in prone mall-goers. Natalie tried to spring for the exit, but she heard a 'hisssss' as Cheyenne sent a knife spinning through the air toward her. Natalie tried ducking, but she knew she wouldn't make it. But, just milliseconds before the knife made contact, there was a loud 'PING!'. Natalie looked up and saw the black knife lying on the ground, and, about a foot away, a stainless-steel carving knife. There was also a lock of black hair lying next to her: her hair.
"Natalie! Here!" Zai shouted to Natalie from across the floor. She got to her feet and saw Cheyenne already cocking her wrist, ready to flick another knife, this one at Zai.
Now it's my turn to save someone. Natalie snatched up Cheyenne's discarded black knife and hurled it at Cheyenne as hard as she could. It wobbled haphazardly through the air, but before Cheyenne could react, it sliced past her ankle, ripping the fabric of her jeans and spilling blood on the marble floor.
"AAAUGH!" Cheyenne let out a strangled scream and dropped to the floor, clutching her blood-soaked leg. Natalie reached Zai and they ran toward the exit, ignoring Cheyenne's 'I'll get you, Cahill fools!'. Zai pushed open the doors and they stumbled out into the open air. Zai grabbed Natalie's arm and dragged her behind a few bushes in front of the mall.
"Are you okay?" She asked.
He nodded, brushing her query aside. "I heard the security threat announcement, and I knew something was wrong. Good thing I bought those knives. Cheyenne's a nasty one."
Natalie was waiting for him to thank her for saving him, but in Zai's mind, he didn't need to thank her; she was just repaying her debt. And she stilled owed him one.
"Well, I see you got your clothes." He continued. Natalie noticed that she was still clutching her Chanel bags. It must be a Kabra instinct.
"On the subject of clothes, what are you wearing?" she asked, nodding to his strange attire: A gray suit with a black tie, and a black hooded trench coat reaching his ankles draped over his shoulders. He certainly didn't look fourteen or fifteen. He looked like a serial killer in a teenager's body. Zai shrugged.
" I made it. We have a long way to go, and I think this is appropriate for the occasion."
...
In the Vesper Stronghold...
Elizabeth Kabra sipped her tea delicately. Things were going well. Her agents performing their tasks moderately well, but Cheyenne's knife accident was a little messy.
"Madame?" a sniveling underline approached her nervously. "We have the Cahills on track. Have you selected a means of their destruction yet?"
"Oh, yes." Elizabeth smiled. This was the best part; leading these unassuming fools straight into her trap. Her smile widened with her pleasure and she thought about what she was about to do. This would be delicious. She turned to the underling. "Deploy...the Z14 Raven."
Sorry that took so long to complete. In case you were wondering, La Vanille Os means The Vanilla Bones, and Pingouins en Plastiqu means Plastic Penguins.