Angel

59

“WHY ARE WE HERE?” I asked. “Typically, we don’t do very well in places like this.”

For some reason, we were meeting Fang and his gang at a fabulous restaurant in a superfabulous hotel—the Georges Cinq. It was decked out in a beautiful, opulent, unbirdkid-friendly, gray and gold interior. We usually tear up places like this, which is why I had lobbied for the McBurger on a little side street.

Fang nodded. “I know, but this is everyone’s first visit to Paris. Possibly their last. I wanted to show them something special. Plus we found something that I think—”

“Actually we found something,” I interrupted. “Something major. But let’s get settled first.” I hated how I was acting, trying to one-up him. We didn’t actually have anything real. We’d just overheard something that we couldn’t figure out.

The maître d’ must have been used to rock stars and child actors and other reprobate types, because he didn’t bat an eye as he led us to a long banquet table in an isolated corner. The thirteen of us sat down, all on our best behavior. Total, of course, was thrilled to pieces to be back in Paris, one of the few places on earth so civilized that dogs are allowed in stores and restaurants.

“Oh, my God. I can already smell the vichyssoise,” he rejoiced, inhaling deeply.

“The what?” Gazzy asked, peering at the menu. “Um, this is all in French. I want a burger.”

“Try the boeuf haché,’ ” Maya recommended, and I remembered Angel telling me that Maya had lived mainly in Europe since she’d been liberated from her cage in New York.

“So, what’ve you got?” Fang asked me while we waited for them to bring our drinks.

“Hm?” I asked, keenly aware that Maya was looking at me expectantly. Dylan raised an eyebrow, ready to come to my aid if necessary. “Oh, it’s nothing.” I coughed. “Just… we kept hearing all this stuff about D-day—like, the world ends day, we think—but people were pretty tight-lipped about it, so we don’t know when this whole shebang is going down.”

“Plus, we got a smidge caught up in sightseeing around ol’ Paree,” Total said, oblivious to my sharp glance. “Twelve patisseries, three parks, and four museums.” He put his paws on the table and drank some water from a glass.

“Really,” said Fang.

I paused, trying to frame our activities in a positive light. “We just went to as many places as possible where people might meet, where kids might want to go…”

“It may have been thirteen patisseries,” Dylan added unhelpfully. “But we also hit a lot of schools. We saw at least two DGers hanging out at schools, scoping out the students.”

“Checking the schools was my idea, since they seem most interested in kids,” said Gazzy, helping himself to more bread and butter. In France, plain old bread and butter were just about the best things on earth. “The patisseries were Max’s idea.”

“Of course,” said Fang, but I didn’t react.

“Dude, quit playing with her,” Ratchet said. “Are you gonna tell them what we found or not?”

Fang cocked an eyebrow at me, and I scowled.

Maya took a flyer out of her pocket and unfolded it so we could read it. “Yeah, we actually already knew about the D-day thing,” she said. “But we got the inside info.”

Fang smirked, and I kind of wanted to punch him.

Instead, I tried to act mature while reading the flyer, calmly seething. “Day after tomorrow,” I said, shocked. “That’s… soon.”

We were all solemn as we pondered that thought. Until Gazzy broke the silence with, “No duh.”

“We’d better make plans…” Fang began, but he didn’t get very far.

Boom!