“Sykes!”
“Did he have any reason to wonder what he’d got himself into?”
In other words, Sykes wanted to know if Marley had met a potential Bonding Partner. “Later.”
“Marley’s in love. Well, well, well.”
“Gray’s probably a powerful paranormal sensitive,” she said and enjoyed watching his flaring brows rise almost to his hairline.
“I’ve got to get back to your mother,” Papa said. “She and your two older sisters are alone in London.”
Marley held her breath, waiting for someone to remind her father that he’d left most of his family alone, for most of their lives. Silence greeted Antoine Millet’s announcement.
“Sykes,” Antoine said. “You will make yourself more present to the family. It may be that you will be required to take up your position after all.”
“I think he’s lost his mind,” Sykes told Marley.
“Until I let you know otherwise, we will make sure the entire family is never all in one place at the same time,” Antoine said.
“For a change,” Willow said, surprising everyone and bringing a grin to Marley’s mouth. “I thought we’d been doing that for twenty years.”
Antoine ignored her. “If something untoward should happen, we can’t afford to have all of us destroyed at once.”
“Well,” Sykes said. “That’s a conversation killer. Do you have something else you want to share with us, Pops?”
Antoine scowled, but Pascal hid a grin.
“Leandra and I believe the Mentor is manifested in a sibylline casket he has left for us. Perhaps it is inscribed on the inside, or the outside—or this object could be an urn of unimaginable value. There are many possibilities, but whatever it is may well be the source of our troubles. It could be for the possession of this priceless artifact that disaster originally befell the Millets. Our dilemma now is to decide if Sykes is the next carrier of destruction.”
“Carrier?” Sykes said. “Am I a harbinger of some sort of disease?”
“Quite possibly as far as the Millets are concerned,” Antoine said. “But if not, you will have to lead the family.”
Marley couldn’t bear to look at Uncle Pascal, who had perfected the art of fuming in silence.
“This mysterious urn or casket,” Sykes said flatly. “Where did that idea come from?”
“From years of selfless searching, my boy,” Antoine said. “We now know that the Mentor’s revelations were stolen by a woman in Bruges and she sold it for its great value. After the theft, what is rightfully ours was recovered, but we don’t know what happened to it. When its whereabouts are known there are those who will try to take it from us again—by any means.”
“Twaddle,” Willow said from the farthest corner she’d been able to find.
Antoine shook his head in exasperation. He scowled at her. “You need a lot of work, and you,” he pointed at Pascal, “should be dealing with that. This young woman is denying her powers and no Millet is allowed such outrageous behavior.”
“Perhaps you have forgotten that I am the head of the Millet family,” Pascal said in a far too pleasant voice. “I will take everything you’ve said into consideration. Please contact me the moment you learn anything else. Meanwhile, we will start our own enquiries into this casket or whatever. Have a good trip back to London, brother.”
“What is it, Marley?” Sykes asked her in secret.
“I’m not sure. I have to think.” But had the vision she’d seen of a glowing golden object been no less than a precognition of the Mentor’s dangerous treasure?
Antoine looked around and slowly a smile spread over his face. “Feisty lot. Wouldn’t have you any other way. Sykes—straighten up. Willow—whether you like it or not, you are gifted and will soon come into your own. You won’t be able to fight it.”
To Marley’s horror, Sykes, an evil smile on his handsome face, began to fade out.
Antoine snapped his fingers at his son. “I knew I shouldn’t have taught you that. It’s far too powerful.”
“You didn’t teach me,” Sykes said, sounding as if he was in a wind tunnel.
Pascal cleared his throat. “Like all of your children,” he said, “Sykes was born with his, er, gifts.”
Antoine shrugged and turned to embrace his brother. “You have the better part, Pascal,” he said. “Being in charge is a great thing. You certainly wouldn’t want to be rattling around the world, responsible to no one at all, like I am.”
Pascal grumbled under his breath.
Antoine stood before Marley, his hands behind his back and his expression foreboding. “Marley,” he said and put his arms stiffly around her. “You are a puzzle to your mother and me—just as all of our children are. But we love you deeply. If you have found your Bonding and decide to do what you should and join with the man permanently, let us know.”
She couldn’t say a word.
“Be careful with him. Your mother and I are aware that you have awakened a wounded lion among sensitives, someone formerly suppressed by fate. Perhaps this one is completely healed and safe. I hope so.”
Chapter 30
When Gray’s phone had rung, just after Marley left to see her uncle, the last person he had expected to hear was Sidney Fournier. They had talked briefly—she had done all the talking, or the ordering—for a few minutes, before she had lowered her voice and said she had to go.
Other than to tell him she wanted them to get together where they would definitely not be interrupted, she had refused to explain why they should meet tonight at Myrtle Wood, one of the smaller River Road plantation houses.
He thought it was pointless drama to go to such lengths, but had agreed. The possibility that he might finally get a useful lead on Liza and Amber gave him hope.
As soon as Marley left him to go to Pascal’s, he had used her shower, given up on doing anything about looking like a wild-haired pirate, and tucked himself back into her bed. He hoped she would return alone, but if not, he was a big boy and he’d think of something to say—like, “I was just testing the mattress.”
He snickered.
The front door opened and racing toenails sounded like an army of rats on a rampage.
The bedroom door flew open and Winnie charged in, her giant bone clenched between her teeth.
“Hey, sweetheart,” Gray said to Marley. He glanced at Winnie. “Your dog’s frowning.”
“Probably at you,” she said.
“I like your topknot.”
She felt the crazy pom-pom on top of her head and turned up her palms. “Everyone should have a distinguishing feature.”
Winnie jumped on a chair, and from there onto the bed. She drooled slightly around the chew.
Gray did his own frowning. “The dog’s on the bed,” he said.
“I’ve always admired an observant man,” Marley said. “It’s her bed, too.”
“I’m waiting for you,” Gray said. “We weren’t finished.”
“You must be a masochist.”
“There’s pain, and then there’s pain,” he told her. “I figure the more I practice pain control the better I’ll get at it.”
She narrowed her lovely eyes. “Just what does that mean?”
Gray could tell when he was entering deep water. “Sit right here by me.” He patted the bed beside him.
Promptly, Winnie placed herself where he’d indicated and panted, working on the bone.
It wasn’t easy, but Gray kept the smile on his face and patted the other side of the bed. “Come on. I want to talk.”
The look she gave him suggested she thought he had something other than talk in mind.
Winnie hopped clean over him and settled in what was to have been Marley’s new spot—really close to Gray.