God of Destruction by Alyssa Adamson Page A

group.”
    James turned to pointedly stare at the line.
“But…what about…?”
    He smiled. “I always like to help out some
friendly tourists.”
    James, anxiously, scratched the back of his
neck. “T…Thank you, sir. How much will that be?”
    The man waved him off. “Nothing. Just go
ahead in.”
    James’s jaw dropped. “Sir! I can’t
possibly…”
    “Please, I insist. Take it as a gift for your
very pretty friend,” he said, staring flirtatiously at Natalia, who
rolled her eyes.
    “Thank you, very much, monsieur ,” she
laughed, turning to return to the group.
    James reluctantly shoved his wallet back into
his pocket. “Ya. Thank you, monsieur.”
    “Do not mention it,” he chuckled, waving him
away as the next group of tourists approached the window.
    James approached his friends at the back of
the line with a small smile.
    “Hey, Jimmy, d’ya get the tickets?” Alex
asked, interrupting the conversation she’d been having with
Claire.
    “Uhh, no, he told us to just go in,” he
replied, holding out his hand for her to take.
    Claire smiled, looking over at the man as he
watched them with a similar expression on his face. “That was
n…nice of him.”
    James led them toward the entrance, ignoring
the looks from the tourists who’d been waiting in the line for
hours. James’s group stood at the entrance with others who’d go
next, but they were too engrossed in their excited chatter to
really pay attention to the others. Only Claire surveyed the other
tourists, merely out of curiosity, but, when her gaze settled on
nothing miraculous, save for a man in sunglasses she swore she’d seen somewhere before, she turned her attention back to her
friends. Then, they were inside, following the tour guide through
the inner labyrinth of the catacombs.
    Fortunately for one, no one in their small
party seemed aware of his eyes on them.
    The halls of the Parisian underground were
lined with walls of neatly piled human remains, separated only by a
row of skulls. There were no windows and the room was stuffy with
the summer air trapping itself inside. Three spotlights lit up the
room from the ceiling above them, their wires bolted carefully to
the ceiling. The main room broke off into smaller, circular rooms
with walls of the same material, but each space was roped off with
yellow tape.
    “The Parisian Catacombs is the resting place
of over six million people, as you can easily deduce by looking
around. You can see around the room that there are other pockets of
bones, but, unfortunately, they have been condemned until further
notice while we repair them—”
    Claire tuned the tour guide woman out while
they walked, clinging to Alex’s free arm. She hated thinking about
death in every way shape and form and she hated this creepy place.
She was ashamed to admit it when she thought about her practically
fearless best friend, but Claire had the weakest stomach on the
planet and she was the jumpiest of anyone she’d ever encountered.
This scene might’ve been the kind of thing that Natalia and Alex
loved to see, but Claire couldn’t even sit through an entire horror
movie, let alone the real thing, played out right before her eyes.
She wanted to go back to the hotel.
    “Claire!” Natalia gasped, breaking her from
her reverie when she tore her away from Alex. Alex and James spun
to ask what the problem was, but Natalia waved them off. “I need to
talk to Claire, we’ll catch up.”
    Alex’s eyes bounced between them before she
shrugged. “Alright. Don’t take too long. God knows you’ll get lost
in here.”
    Natalia watched them leave earshot. “I can’t
find Russell!” she hissed.
    Claire jerked back from her grip. “What?
Where would h…he go?”
    “I have no idea. I need you to help me
find him!” she pleaded.
    The blonde girl nodded fervently. “Of course!
You t…take that side, I’ll take this s…side.” She ran from Natalia,
missing the smile that passed across her face.
    “Sweet