Louis Collins: A Post-American Odyssey

He took her through the side arcade, up a narrow flight of stairs, and into a sitting room that had not been used that morning. The French doors at the far end were open. Outside was a broad east terrace with white stone underfoot and a glass rail. Beyond the glass, palms stood over the slope. Los Angeles spread below in the hard morning glare, with the Pacific showing faintly beyond it.

“This is acceptable.” Angelique stepped out and leaned against the railing. She turned her face into the wind.

Louis came up beside her. Their arms touched. “Only acceptable?”

She glanced at him, one eyebrow raised. “What did you expect me to say? That it’s magical?” She turned back toward the view. “It’s a nice place to hide.” She paused, then added, “You come here often?”

“Not often,” he said. “Only when I need to feel like I have somewhere to go that isn’t already scheduled.” He looked at her again. “You have places like that?”

She gave a dry laugh. “Of course not. My family believes privacy is something you earn by leaving the premises.” She leaned one elbow on the railing and looked at him sideways. “But I can see why you like it. No one can interrupt without making it obvious they followed you.”

He smiled. “That’s part of it.”

“And the other part?”

He shrugged. “It has a good view.”

She tilted her face toward the sky, closing her eyes for a moment. “I thought you would have something more dramatic.”

“Like what?”

“Like, ‘the only place I can think.’” She opened her eyes and looked at him again. “Or, ‘where I go to forget my name.’”

He laughed. “That’s not me.”

“No?” She turned her body slightly toward him. “Then what do you do when you need to feel something?”

He kept his eyes on her. “I talk to you.”

She smiled slowly. “That sounds like a line.”

“It’s not.” He leaned back against the railing, mirroring her posture. “But I’m happy to be accused of trying.”

“Try harder next time.” Her fingers shifted against the railing, moving slightly closer to his. “And if you weren’t talking to me?”

He hesitated. “Then I’d probably do something stupid.”

“Like what?” Her voice stayed light, but her eyes remained on him now.

Louis rested one hand on the railing. “I’d find someone to distract me.”

Angelique nodded once, slowly. “And does that work?”

“Sometimes.”

“But not now?”

He shook his head.

She did not look away. “Why not?”

“You already know.”

She smiled again. “I want to hear you say it.”

He smiled too and leaned one elbow on the railing, close enough that their sleeves almost touched. “Because it wouldn’t be the same.”

“Because it wouldn’t be me.”

“Yes.”

Angelique’s smile faded. She turned back toward the city.

“That’s very flattering.”

“I’m not trying to flatter you.”

“I know.” Her voice dropped. “That’s why it works.”

Louis stared at the horizon.

Angelique turned from the view. “Malcolm isn’t coming.”

Louis did not turn. “No?”

“Don’t pretend you’re surprised.”

“Maybe he got sick too.”

She laughed softly. “Maybe he suddenly became useful somewhere else.” She looked at him. “Was that you?”

He blinked. “Would you be mad if it was?”

She considered that, then looked away with a small shrug. “No. But I would prefer you not treat my life like it’s yours to arrange. It’s rude.”

He inclined his head. “Noted.”

“Besides,” she continued, “I never wanted him to come.” Her mouth tilted into a faint smile. “And now I don’t have to sit through a lunch where he tries to impress me by naming the horse breeds of the First Consul’s personal guard.”

He laughed. “See? It all worked out.”

She gave him a look. “Don’t be smug.”

He raised both hands. “I’m just relieved.”

Her smile came back, smaller this time. “I bet.”

He turned his hand under hers and laced their fingers together. His heart pounded.

“I’ve been thinking about you.”

She looked down at their hands, then back at him.

“I’ve been thinking about you too.”

Blood rose hot in his face. “What have you been thinking?”

“That you’re exactly as dangerous as I thought you were.” She turned her face to him, close now. “And that I like it more than I should.”

He stayed where he was. “And what do you plan to do about that?”

She tilted her head, then lowered their joined hands to the railing. “I think I’ll stay here for a while,” she said. “With nothing scheduled and no one watching.” Her fingers tightened around his. “And I think you’ll stay with me.”

“I think you’re right.”

Her smile widened. She leaned closer. “Good. Because I’m not finished educating you yet.”

He laughed, his free hand moving to her waist. The fabric of her shirt was warm under his palm. “I’m a very slow learner.”

“I’ve noticed.” She was close enough now that he could feel her breath against his lips. “But I’m a patient teacher.”

He closed the small distance between them, his hand sliding around to the small of her back as he kissed her. She responded at once, her lips parting under his, her body pressing against his. The kiss deepened, heat building between them as the world beyond the balcony faded to nothing. His hand moved up her back, fingers splaying against the curve of her spine, drawing her closer until there was no space left between them. She made a soft sound against his mouth, her fingers tightening around his, her other hand coming into his hair. He was hard against her now, his cock pushing at her through his trousers, and she did not pull away.

The wind moved across the terrace. The kiss went on, growing more intense, more urgent, as if all the conversations of the last five days had only been leading to this moment. He felt her breasts pressed against his chest through the thin fabric, rising with each quick breath. She did not give him any space, and he wanted her more for it.

When they broke apart, both breathing hard, she stayed in his arms, her face turned into his neck and her body still pressed to his.

“This is better than talking,” she murmured.

He smiled. “Much better.”

She laughed softly and pulled back just enough to look at him. “We should probably stop before someone comes looking for us.” She did not move away.

He glanced toward the doorway, then back at her. “They can wait a few more minutes.”

Her smile widened. “I thought you’d never ask.”

She kissed him again, slower this time, her hands sliding down his chest and lower. Louis slid his hand under her shirt, up along her ribs, and cupped her breast over her bra. The fabric was warm under his palm, with the soft weight of her pressing into his hand. She breathed into his mouth and pushed herself closer. His other hand tightened at her back, less careful now, until a soft mechanical thrum cut across the wind.

The sound was faint. Louis might have missed it if Angelique had not gone still first. Her hands stopped against his chest. She stayed there a breath longer, then eased back and turned her head.

The security drone flew straight across their view, low and black in the morning light. Sunlight flashed once along its body, and then it was past them. Louis breathed out through his nose, his hand still inside her shirt.

Angelique watched it go. Louis drew his hand free and set it back at her waist.

“Charming.” She snorted.

“It’s probably just routine.”

She turned back to him, eyebrows lifting. “Does that make you feel better?”

He gave a half smile. “Not especially.”

Angelique glanced toward the doors. “Do they always send machines after you when you kiss someone?”

He laughed softly and let his hand fall from her waist, though he did not step away. “Only when I’m in my own house.” He grinned at her. “You could always come inside. I have a room.”

She looked at him. Then her mouth curved.

“That sounds like a scene your mother could enjoy walking in on,” she said. “And I think I’d rather you remembered me as the woman who didn’t slip away into the shadows.” She smoothed the front of her shirt. “At least for now.”

He let out a breath and leaned back against the rail. “You’re killing me.”

She touched her hair back into place. “I doubt that.” Then she leaned in and kissed him once more, quick enough to stop him from answering. “But you’ll survive. You always do.”

She stepped past him first. By the time Louis followed, she was already a few steps ahead, shirt straight, hair back in place, walking with the same composed pace she had used when she arrived. A soft knock sounded from the corridor beyond. Élise’s voice called through the open doorway.

“Mrs. Collins asks whether Miss Bourbon might be ready in ten minutes,” she said. “The cars will be brought around early.”

“Of course,” Angelique answered. She glanced back at Louis. “It seems we are summoned,” she said.

“Always,” he said.

They returned to the main hall together. Judith was near the stairs, speaking quietly with Samyra while Victoria held her other hand. Maria stood by the mirror, fastening an earring. Jacques leaned against the wall, checking his phone. Serana glanced from Angelique to Louis and back again. She narrowed her eyes.

“Good.” Judith turned toward them. “There you both are.”

Maria turned from the mirror and smiled at her daughter. “I was beginning to think the house had swallowed you.” She glanced once toward the open doors, then back at Angelique. “It does have a way of doing that, doesn’t it?”

“I was admiring the view.” Angelique lifted her chin.

“Of course you were.” Maria finished with the earring and lowered her hands. “We wouldn’t want you to miss a single moment of grandeur before we leave it all behind for drafty hotels and state banquets.”

Jacques snorted from the wall. Angelique gave him a flat look.

Judith clapped her hands once. “Alright. The lead car leaves in five minutes,” she said. “Bags are already loaded. Louis, you and Angelique will ride with Maria and me. The rest of you will follow in the second vehicle. Let’s go before the heat ruins everyone’s composure.”

Victoria had been watching the adults with grave suspicion. She looked up at Judith.

“I’m coming,” she announced.

“No, darling,” Judith said. She bent toward her. “You’re staying here with Samyra. We’ll be back in a week, and I’ll call you every day. I promise.”

Victoria’s mouth opened at once.

“Mommy—”

“No, sweetheart.” Judith kissed her forehead, cutting her off gently. “You’ll be much happier here. There are toys, the pool, and all the space you could want to run around.” She straightened and turned to Samyra. “And if she behaves, she can have an extra hour at the pool tomorrow.”

Samyra nodded at once. “Of course, ma’am.” She took Victoria’s hand firmly. “Say goodbye to your brother.”

Victoria looked from Judith to Samyra, then turned to Louis. He knelt to meet her.

“Hey, Vicky,” he said. “Don’t give Samyra too much trouble.”

She wrapped her arms around his neck. “Bring me something,” she whispered.

“Like what?”

“A horse.”

He laughed, hugging her back. “I’ll see what I can do.”

She let him go reluctantly, then gave Samyra a look that said this was not over. Samyra guided her away with murmured promises of juice and cartoons.

After that, everything moved quickly. Cars came around in the order Judith had arranged. The luggage was already loaded, and staff cleared away from the doors. Louis rode in the back of the first car with his mother and Maria. Angelique sat beside him, turned toward the window as they passed through the gates. He watched the light move across her face.

By the time they boarded the Dominion’s presidential jet, Constantine and Philip were already there, reading tablets, speaking in low voices. Judith crossed the threshold and kissed Constantine lightly. Maria offered him her hand. Louis nodded to Philip as he walked toward his father.

“Louis,” Constantine said, straightening. “How was the morning?”

“Relaxing,” Louis said. “Until the flight.”

Constantine smiled. “Then we’ll make sure the rest of the trip redeems it.”

Philip glanced up from his tablet. “We were just going over the Collective’s security briefing.” He gestured to the chair beside him. “Take a look if you want. The drive from the airport is the part most likely to go wrong.”

Louis took the folder and turned a few pages. The maps and threat assessments gave him somewhere to put his eyes. He looked once toward Angelique. She had moved to the far side of the cabin beside Maria, speaking softly to her while a steward moved down the aisle behind them. Whatever had happened on the balcony had been put away for now.

“Seats, please,” said the steward nearest the doorway.

The engines rose in pitch. Louis closed the folder and returned to the chair opposite his father. He buckled in, rested his head against the leather, and tried to think about Texas.

“...keep the industrial briefing after the private lunch in Miami. I want the cameras first at the arrival and then again for the signing. No wandering press in between.”

“Understood,” Philip said. “What about the youth line at the Orlando Museum?”

“Keep it. They asked for it, and refusing would make it look deliberate.”

The aircraft pushed back. The runway slid into view. Louis looked out at it. Across the aisle, Angelique settled with a folder in her lap. Their eyes met once. She smiled, faint and private, then looked down.

Constantine glanced at him.

“Try to enjoy Austin,” he said. “At least until the photographs begin.”

Louis smiled thinly. “I’ll do my best.”

The aircraft surged forward. Louis closed his eyes as the ground dropped beneath them.