“Come in, come in! It’s about to start,” says a middle-aged man with an American accent and a sprig of white lilacs fastened to his lapel. He ushers us through the darkened lower chapel toward the winding steps leading upstairs.

“Theo, my man!” crows Ambrose, giving the man a back-clapping hug. “All the way from New York City. Share a plane with Jules and Ava?”

“Yes, for the first and last time,” the man chuckles. “The cuteness. It was suffocating.” He smiles and reaches out to shake my hand. “I’m Theodore Gold. You must be my new kindred, Louis.”

“Brand new,” I confirm. “Practically a baby compared to you.”

“Time flies so fast. It seems like it was only yesterday when I was human,” he says, following me up the stairs. “Gaspard told me about your renewed problems with the numa. I hear Ava will be staying to help Kate locate the remaining numa outside of Paris.”

“Everyone’s hoping the two of them will be able to find the numa nest and flush them out,” I say.

“You don’t sound so sure.”

“I was one of them. I doubt they’ll just sit pretty and wait for two Champions to pick them off.” This is the new me talking. I’m not proud of who I was, but I have learned to use it in the service of my kindred.

“Yes, well, I will be staying for a little while in case there’s anything I can do to help,” Theo says as we arrive at the top of the stairs. At which point we fall silent because the scene before us is breathtaking.

I’ve visited La Sainte Chapelle before. Years ago, on a school trip. So I know what to expect. But still, I feel overwhelmed when I step into the long single room, forty feet high, with colorful stained-glass windows stretching from floor to roof. There’s barely any wall to be found. Just one narrow, towering stained glass window after the other, divided into sections that tell every story in the Bible in order.

It’s like being inside a kaleidoscope. Jewel panes with sunlight coming through, casting prisms of color everywhere. A string quartet sits at the far end of the chapel, beneath a canopy of white roses, playing a classical piece. On either side of them are full-grown lilac trees that must have been dug up and transplanted into giant pots just for this occasion. Lilacs...Kate’s favorite. Even from the back of the room, I can smell the fragrance.

Between the string quartet and me, there are probably one hundred people seated on folding chairs brought in for the occasion. We’re clearly the last to arrive; almost all the seats are taken. Jules and Ava wave to us from the front row, indicating they’ve saved two spaces for Ambrose and Charlotte.