She looked at the ceiling. The bicycle helmet had been there all along, close to the victim, but camouflaged in the shadows. When Red Eye dragged the person across the floor, the helmet must have been caught up, then shaken loose and left behind.
Gray’s ruffled hair curled at his neck and across his brow. His eyes moved beneath the lids and his lashes flickered. His cheek and jaw were dark with beard stubble. Relaxed, his face looked young and achingly appealing. Her tummy flipped. They had made love twice before exhaustion claimed both of them. The experience defied description and she wanted to feel again what they’d felt together. The Bonding had been theirs and it was a sign she must soon explain to him all its implications.
There was nothing to force him into melding his life with hers, but she would never be whole again without him—any more than he could hope to experience with anyone else what they had shared.
Across the bed, faint stripes of gold stroked them through the blinds. The sun started its ascent. Outside the bedroom, a small stone terrace with fancy iron railings overlooked gardens behind a house tucked in the middle of the block. The owners were rarely there and Marley enjoyed the privacy of her haven. She enjoyed it even more with Gray there beside her.
He mumbled in his sleep and tucked her tightly against him.
Her family would have to be dealt with and they would have questions no man should have to answer about making love to a woman.
The blinds rattled.
Marley frowned and peered at them. A breeze flowed over her and she saw Gray’s hair move so she wasn’t imagining what she felt.
The windows were closed and locked. The bedroom door was shut. The fan ran, but she often lamented that it didn’t create any real air current.
On the ceiling a shape formed, a gold rectangle.
Marley blinked several times. The image was fuzzy and she wanted her eyes absolutely clear. There it was, not the sunny gold that lay in bands over the bed, but deep, dark, rich gold like molten ore poured into a mold.
The shape trembled, came a little closer, then receded. Part of it flapped down and she looked at the gorgeously embossed flyleaf of a book. When the tissue-thin flyleaf flipped away, blinding arcs of color beamed forth as if from deep inside an empty cavity. Then the cover settled gently back and more prisms blazed from the depths of jewels mounted in the gold surface.
Marley closed her eyes again. The image unsettled her. A field of magnetism emanated toward her, tugged at her as if to pull her from the bed.
“Marley, may I come in?”
Uncle Pascal, requesting her attention while she could still see the fantastic book, disoriented her.
“Marley, may I—”
“Yes,” she signaled. “Tell me what’s wrong.”
He didn’t respond immediately and when he did she could tell he was unsettled. “You’re needed here in my flat. I have no choice but to ask you to come.”
“Can I at least have coffee and wake up?”
“We have coffee here.”
“Yes.”
As carefully as possible, she eased herself away from Gray and stood up. Her legs felt rubbery and her head ached. Neither discomfort surprised her. When she started to move around, a number of parts hurt. She wished she could curl up with Gray again.
She scuffled into the bathroom and took a five-minute shower. After cleaning her teeth and washing her face she looked in the mirror to see if she had erased any signs of wild lovemaking. She didn’t think she had managed very well. In a drawer she found a fuzzy scrunchee and gathered her hair into a volcanic bundle atop her head.
Naked, she returned to the bedroom and rushed into a bra and panties and a yellow cotton sweat suit.
“C’mere,” Gray said from the bed. “Where d’you think you’re going? We aren’t finished yet.”
She got just close enough to make it impossible for him to grab her. “You’re right. We’re not finished. But I’ve got to go over to Uncle Pascal’s. I think there’s a family meeting going on. As soon as it’s done, I’ll be back. But don’t stay if you have to get on with something.”
“What I have to get on with is leaving me all alone in this big bed. Cruel, cruel woman. I didn’t hear the phone, anyway.”
“It didn’t ring.” If he was going to be around her, he might as well start learning the ropes. “Uncle doesn’t need a telephone if he knows where I am and he really wants to reach me.”
He groaned and threw an arm over his face. “What have I gotten into?”
She bit back the temptation to tell him he was free to get out the second he wanted to. She didn’t want him to so why give him ideas?
“Bye,” she said.
On the way out of the flat she looked around, expecting to see Winnie curled up somewhere. Willow usually popped the dog through Marley’s front door before leaving for work.
Winnie wasn’t in the flat this time.
Marley covered the distance to Uncle Pascal’s in minutes and tapped on his door. Rather than call her in, he opened it himself and gave her a piercing look. “I tried to stop this from happening,” he said quietly. “I was overruled.”
Marley patted his hand and kissed his cheek. “Don’t worry. Hey, Sykes. I thought you hated early mornings.”
“I do.” Sykes sounded furious and Marley got edgy.
Her brother held Winnie so she flopped over his shoulder while he kept an arm across her back legs. She gave Marley an indolently satisfied glance and settled her head down again.
“How’s Gray?” Willow had curled up tightly in a wicker chair shaped like a bird’s nest. “He’s so dear.”
Again, her sister’s reaction to Gray bemused Marley. “Gray’s fine. Really good.”
“Amazing,” Willow said, shaking her head. “Time heals.”
Marley was too tired and too overwhelmed to dig for explanations.
“Who is this man you have accepted?” The man who asked wore his strawberry-red hair tied in a ponytail that reached his waist. He turned to look at Marley with dark green eyes.
“Papa,” she said, almost under her breath. “Papa?” She held out her arms.
“Yes,” Antoine Millet said, his thin face tensed. He gave her a quick hug. “It is your papa. You have become a woman, but it seems you have forgotten your responsibilities while I’ve been gone.”
“Oh, boy,” she said. “Some things never change. I’m doing just fine with my responsibilities.”
“Fornicating with unsuitable people is one of your duties?” Antoine said. “I think not.”
“Antoine,” Pascal said. “Marley is an exemplary girl, a joy who has helped me a great deal.”
“You are talking about my responsibilities, Papa?” Marley said. “I haven’t seen you in years. How many? Fifteen? Uncle Pascal is my mentor.”
“Don’t—” Antoine pointed at her “—use that word lightly. There is only one Mentor and that’s why I’m here. Your mother and I are making progress tracking down the Mentor. When we find him, he will help us deal with the curse. At last we’ll find a way to deal effectively with any dark-haired male Millets—without having them visit disaster on us.”
Sykes made a sound that resembled a snarl and Marley wouldn’t look at him.
Antoine continued as if Sykes hadn’t interrupted. “The Mentor will also want to be sure all of us—including you, miss—are following the instructions he left for us.”
“Sykes?” Marley attempted to make contact with her brother.
“Yo, Marley. This is bizarre, but keep your cool.”
“Has Papa been told about—Does he know anything about me being involved with something that could be sticky?”
“Not the way you mean. But as you can see, he’s picked up something about your love life. Uncle Pascal knew you weren’t home all night, then he figured out you had someone with you when you did get back. He didn’t tell Papa, but he seems to know anyway. How’s Gray in bed? Nuclear from the look of you—which may be what gave Papa his ideas.”