章 4: Chapter 4: Taking Aim
As morning dawned, Colette awoke slowly and found herself tangled in the blankets, groaning a little as she sat up and rubbed her eyes.
The sunlight had hit her right in the face as she slumbered, and she yawned wide, before pausing. Something didn’t feel right.
It was eerily quiet. She stood, and opened the curtains to the window, squinting in the daylight at the streets below. So, why did I have this ominous feeling?
There was little time to dwell on it, however. She got dressed and packed up to leave. Today she was going to tour some apartments, so she wanted to get a head start on her to-do list.
Colette stood on edge as she exited the hotel, the dread in her gut becoming tenfold.
As she looked around, she noticed someone among the crowd staring directly at her. She was a medium sized woman with a dark hoodie on and dark jeans to match.
She was wearing a face covering of some sort, and her hands were tucked into the hoodie’s pockets. As Colette tried to get away, she looked over her shoulder and saw the stranger following her.
Her heart leapt into her throat.
She ducked into the nearest alleyway, and then she heard something zoom by her ear, and embed into the wall. Startled and frightened now, the blonde looked to see what it was.
It was a silver bullet!
Colette began to run, not taking any more chances with the stranger who was shooting at her! She knocked over a few trash cans in her mad escape, but soon found herself cornered at the end of the alleyway.
She held her hands up, saying, “Wait, wait, wait! Who are you? What do you want? Is it money? I have money!”
The assailant simply aimed at her again, but she thought quickly as to how to best diffuse the situation.
“My name is Colette!” she called out as she watched with wide eyes, the trigger barely pressed on the gun that was aimed at her.
The assailant lowered the gun, and her dark eyes narrowed slightly. “Colette Monet,” she continued.
Without any prior warning, the woman stalked closer and then took the blonde’s face into her palm, squeezing her cheeks and forcing her to open her mouth.
She inspected the fangs that were present in the girl’s mouth before pulling away, and swearing softly in French.
“You live today, blood sucker,” the assassin said with a heavy accent, “But if I was you, I would get the hell out of Paris. Someone who looks just like you has a sizable bounty on their head.”
“Thank you,” Colette gasped as soon as she let go of her face, “Th-thank you.”
“Don’t thank me,” said the assassin with a sneer, “Not until you show me your passport. NOW.”
She scrambled for her pockets where she had been keeping it, and held it out for the woman in black to examine. There, printed on the identification portion of it was her name – Colette Monet.
The assassin threw it back at her, and she caught it and stuffed it back into her pocket quickly.
Without another word, she left Colette to her thoughts and her emotions.
The blonde burst into tears as soon as she was sure she was alone, shakily pulling up her phone to cancel all the appointments she’d made for the day. She had to get out of Paris, it seemed.
But where should she go then, if Paris was no longer safe?
Rosie Duvois. She had to find Rosie Duvois. With shaking hands, she picked her phone back up and began to scroll through Fleur’s Facebook page, until she found a familiar face smiling at her through the screen.
Rosie Duvois was a plump girl with rosy cheeks, red curly locks of hair, and vivid green eyes. Her skin was kissed by the sun, and freckles were painted across her face. Her nose was small and button-like, and her lips were usually curled up into a smile, and painted red with lipstick.
Colette took a few breaths before sending her a friend request through Fleur’s account, which Rosie was quick to accept.
She sent her a message right away.
[Fleur: Rosie, I know it’s been ages.]
[Fleur: But I’m in Paris, and I’d like to see you again.]
[Fleur: Where are you living these days?]
She saw the typing bubble appear on the messenger and ran a hand through her hair, biting the inside of her cheek.
Hopefully, the other woman would forgive her for lying. She’d explain everything when she arrived at a place that she deemed safe.
[Rosie: Oh wow, is that you, Fleur? It has been ages!]
[Rosie: I’m living in Honfleur. It’s a while drive from Paris to here, so would you prefer it if I met you halfway?]
[Fleur: No, that’s alright! I can meet you at your place if you send me the location.]
[Rosie: Here you go, it’s 1243 grande rue, 14600 Honfleur]
Punching the destination into the phone, she found that it was only two hours and 12 minutes from Paris by car. Drying her tears, she wobbled back to the street and looked up the nearest rental car place, hailing a taxi to take her there.
She logged out of Fleur’s profile after writing the address down, feeling hopeful, but also very, very terrified.
Someone had a bounty on her, but what had she done? The only reason that she’d gotten away from the vampire hunter was because she had lied about what her name was.
They were looking for Arienne Villeneuvue, not Colette Monet, if she had to guess.
But why?
Why was she in danger of being killed, after everything had gone so well?
There was only one way to find out, and that was finding either Nora, or Arabella.
As she began the drive to Rosie’s house, Colette tried to keep herself calm. It was alright. It was going to be alright.
Her problems were about to get a lot messier from here on out, but she could deal with it. She had to deal with it, having no other choice but death if she was caught by another hunter.
Between death and all the questions she had, she felt her head reeling from the overload of information. Colette could barely admire the French countryside as she got closer to Rosie’s place of residence, as beautiful as it was.
No, she only had one thought in her head, and that was getting somewhere that she knew would be safe. As Paris faded behind her, she felt her nerves at last untangle themselves in her guts.
The only question was, what would Rosie say? Well, she’d find out in just a few hours, wouldn’t she?
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