Выбрать главу

“I’m definitely happy,” Griffon says, leaning down to nuzzle my neck. “Never been happier.”

I laugh and pull back slightly. “We’d better stop or we’ll never make it to the bears.”

“Okay by me,” Griffon mumbles. “We could just go back to my house and lock ourselves in for the rest of the day. For the rest of the week.”

I force myself to take a step back, the thrill at the thought of being alone with him coursing through my body. Part of me wants to spend every minute with Griffon, waking or not. “I can’t bail on Rayne.” I push him toward the path that goes past the lion house. “This way.”

As we turn the corner, an Asian couple blocks the path, gesturing wildly and shouting things I don’t understand. The man looks frantic and the woman is on the verge of tears, her eyes shining and her face red.

“Hang on a second.” Griffon drops my hand as he walks over and says something in their language. The couple looks both surprised and relieved, and fire off some rapid sentences, pointing up the pathway.

“Hey, Cole,” Griffon calls back to me. His voice is steady, but I can hear the urgency in it. “See if you can find someone who works here.”

I don’t know what’s going on, but I can tell it’s something bad. I feel panic rising as I turn the corner and see a woman in a khaki uniform. “We need help!” I say, pointing up the path. “This way.”

Griffon and the couple rush over as soon as they see us. “They think someone took their son,” Griffon explains, while the parents look on with fear in their eyes. “About two years old. They were with him over by the lemurs a few minutes ago and when they turned around, he was gone.”

The employee gets on the radio to relay the information, and in seconds there’s a crackly response. “What was he wearing?” she asks.

Griffon quickly translates the question and then their answer. “A red striped shirt and a brown hat.”

I hear the description being relayed to radios throughout the zoo, then there’s nothing but static for a few long moments. The man reaches over to grab the woman’s hand, and I see him squeeze it hard. Griffon smiles and says something that I don’t understand, but it seems to reassure them in some way and they both nod in reply.

We all jump as the radio crackles, and the park attendant answers. She grins, and I feel my whole body release the tension that’s been building for the past few minutes. “Someone’s bringing him over—they found him watching the chimps.”

His parents can’t wait; as soon as they spot the employee carrying the little boy, they race over to him, their happy cries not needing any translation. After scooping him up and covering him with kisses, the mother comes back to Griffon and takes his hand in hers, nodding rapidly as she talks.

Griffon flashes his smile and bows his head as she says something to him that I can tell is a thank-you.

“That was scary,” I say as we watch the family go into the lion house together, each of the parents holding tight to the boy’s hand. “What language were they speaking?”

“Mandarin.” He shrugs. “I told you I was Chinese . . . before.”

“Handy,” I say, teasing him to cover up the awe I feel whenever he does something unexpected like this. Putting an overturned chess set back together, each piece in the same place it was before, switching languages without even thinking about it, reading pages of text faster than he can turn them; it’s going to take a lot of lifetimes for my abilities to catch up to his.

“Hey, it was the least I could do. I remember the panic of losing your kid in a crowd.”

I know he doesn’t mean anything by it, but that comment hits me full force. Griffon once had a kid to lose in a crowd. And probably a wife to go with it. Reminders of his past lives always sting a little, even though I know it’s just a fact of being Akhet. Our past is always woven in with our present. We walk a little way in silence, each of us wrapped up in our own thoughts. As we pass the hippos, there’s a rustling in the bushes and a bright blue peacock steps out onto the asphalt, dragging its tail feathers on the ground.

Peacocks roam all around the zoo, but I’ve never seen one this close before. He stands a few feet away, his blue head shimmering almost green in the sun as he tilts it toward us. The bird shakes his body and puffs his tail feathers out for just a second before they settle back on the dirt. Slowly he moves toward us just as some screaming kids run by, sending the huge bird diving for the bushes and out of sight.

Griffon walks to where the peacock disappeared and comes back with a long, shimmering feather in his hand. “Looks like he left something for you.”

I reach out to touch the delicate colors that seem to shift and change in the light. Pulling the strands through my fingers, I feel a moment of panic as I’m drawn into a memory, one that’s centuries older than anything here at the zoo.

“My darling Allison, have you never heard a peacock’s call before?” Connor asks, green eyes shining with amusement as he watches my surprise.

The peacock’s cries are startling as he lifts his head again and opens his mouth to the sky, the repeated caws echoing over the grounds of the manor house and disappearing into the English countryside.

“I’ve heard them from inside the sitting room,” I answer. “But never in such close proximity. There aren’t many wild peacocks in Cornwall, I’m afraid.”

Connor looks at the bright blue birds that peck at the land, looking for their next meal. “These descendants of the original pair have lived on the property almost longer than my family has. It’s always striking that a bird with such astoundingly beautiful plumage would have such a grating and ugly cry.”

“ ’Tis unfair that the males are allowed to dress in brilliant colors and inventive patterns, while the females are simply dull, gray birds,” I tease.

The peacock closest to us takes a few steps in our direction, the blue of his head and neck shimmering like something otherworldly in the sun. As he turns toward me, he raises his tail in a display that takes my breath away—a fan of hundreds of feathers, dotted with blue and green, waving just slightly as he proudly turns so that the colors catch the light.

“It appears you have an admirer,” Connor says. He turns to me, his face all seriousness. “More than one, I’m afraid.”

My heart surges as the distance between us closes and I can’t help but look at him directly. His kind eyes are set in a face that is as handsome as any I have ever seen. I can feel the heat from his body on my skin as he reaches to cup my chin in his hand. “You are more beautiful than any peacock.”

I long to have the sensation of his lips on mine and hope that Mam is right, ’tis only a matter of time before we have leave to be together. Until then, I shall bide my time and play my position to the best advantage. “You make me blush, sir,” I reply quietly, trying to suppress the excitement that I feel.

“I hope I have the opportunity in the future to do more than simply make you blush,” he replies, tracing my cheek with his thumb.

I turn from him so he won’t see the desire on my face. Connor is so capable in every aspect, I’m not entirely convinced that he is unable to read my thoughts. The peacock turns and flicks his tail feathers in my direction, lowering them to the ground as he starts to walk away. He is so close that the feathers brush the bottom of my brocade gown and I bend down to feel the silken strands as they pull through my fingers.

Something tickles my cheek and I reach up to brush it off, feeling the soft strands of the peacock feather that Griffon’s holding. The image from the memory flashes through my mind and I shiver as I realize that something behind Connor’s eyes, something undefined, is familiar in a way I don’t want it to be.