Charlotte is coming down the winding marble staircase, arm in arm with Gaspard, their heads almost touching in what looks like a serious discussion. The last time I saw her, she was dressed in black, wielding a crossbow—a fierce teenage fighter ready to sink bolts into numa heads. Now her blonde hair is pulled back from her peaches and cream complexion and she looks like an older, more responsible version of warrior-Charlotte. That is, until she sees me.

She squeals, “Oh my god! It’s Louis!” then takes the rest of the stairs at a run and throws herself on me. “Welcome, kindred. You’re finally here. We’ve been waiting forever!”

“Five years,” I say, when I can breathe again.

She holds me back to inspect me, and I self-consciously tuck a stray lock of hair behind my ear. “Look at you. You’ve grown up! What are you now? Six feet?”

“Six foot two,” I reply, embarrassed by the attention.

“Now all we have to do is bulk you out,” Ambrose says, squeezing my barely-existent bicep.

I want to find a table to hide under, but Charlotte’s still talking. “We would have come to visit you in Brittany, but we weren’t allowed.”

Ambrose drapes his arm around her and wiggles his ring finger to show off a thick gold band. “We invited you to the wedding.”

“Yeah, I know,” I say. “I really wanted to be there, but it was just a few months after I arrived at Bran’s, and he said I was under lockdown.”

“You missed the event of the century. Maybe even the millennium,” he muses.

“Don’t rub it in,” I say. “I spent the last five years in the middle of nowhere with absolutely zero social life.”

“What about school?” Charlotte asks.

“Homeschooled.”

Ambrose’s mouth puckers like he bit a lemon. “Man, that’s harsh. Hey, remember that time you got struck by lightning?”

“Um, yeah.” I grin. “Kind of hard to forget.”

“Well, when Bran called, I had the car out front in seconds, but Gaspard said only Kate and Vincent could go. Kate said she saw your aura from the highway when they were still three hours away.”

“Good thing,” I say. “My body had floated so far out to sea, they had to borrow a boat to come get me. But by the time I reanimated, they were back in Paris. So even if you had come, I wouldn’t have been awake to see you.”

“Sounds lonely.” Charlotte gives me a look of pity.

Ambrose pats me on the back. “I can’t imagine five years with only Bran for company. Don’t get me wrong, he’s a quality guy. But he acts like a grandpa, and I’m sure you could use some excitement.”

Bran, who went out to retrieve a notebook from the car, chooses this moment to return. He clears his throat to indicate he heard what Ambrose said.