it, but this is slightly sketchy,” Drew said, not sounding at all like he hated saying it.
“What do you mean by sketchy?” Cayne asked, in what to Julia sounded like a normal voice.
Drew must have imagined an edge. His tone got a little more hostile and he shifted into a fighting stance, ticking points off on his fingers. “Let’s go over this one more time: I lived at the compound all my life, and I never saw him there. Then suddenly, after a huge attack, he shows up, and he wants to come with us? Julia doesn’t recognize his aura, and he claims he’s some kind of experiment? Which I know none of us buy.”
Carlin opened her mouth, but Drew cut her off.
“Those of us who aren’t crushing.”
“Hey!”
“Oh please. And Julia… he said she’s The One. He knew what her headache
meant—” Julia flinched a little, tightening her jaw against the pressure/pain inside her skull— “but he never told us how he knew. When he met Julia he told her he worked for The Three—”
“Actually he called himself a consultant.”
“Yeah, well I don’t see much difference. And how do we know he isn’t still ‘consulting’?”
The room was silent; everyone was frowning.
“Those are valid points,” Cayne agreed, “but if he is working for The Three, he’s had plenty of chances to help deliver Julia back to them. I agree, it’s odd that he hasn’t shown back up, but I’m not too concerned. The security here is excellent. And, if it came to it, I could fly away with Julia. Edan has never been a threat to her.”
“Speaking of flying…” Julia braced herself to speak for Cayne, but he beat her to it, leaning forward in the huge wing-backed chair where he sat in front of the fireplace like the king of a castle.
“I’d like to do a fly-over. I’ve shown my wings once without it causing trouble, and it would help us find the tiger on the landing pad sooner. I could go at night, and I could cover the area in an hour or so. Helicopter landing pads are easily to spot from the sky. Julia will come with me. If we don’t find the tiger or anything that resembles it, then we can try another area.”
“Shhhh!” Carlin slashed her hand through the air, and she dove for the phone, a small, black cordless thing with an extremely quiet ringer.
“Hello,” she answered, then broke into a grin—that faded fast.
“It’s him,” Mer reported, zeroing in on Carlin’s feelings.
A few seconds later, Carlin hung up the phone.
“What did he say?” Mer asked Carlin.
“He’s at a hostel.”
“Here?”
Carlin nodded.
“There are hostels here?”
“He met a girl,” Carlin said woefully, “and he’s followed her to a hostel on the resort grounds.”
Cayne made an approving face, so classically ‘Martian’ that Julia smiled a little. “When is he coming back?”
Carlin shrugged, then slumped down on the bed. As soon as she was down, she was up again. She tossed her arms out. “What a shady bastard.” The curl on the “r” was more intense than usual. “As for me, I want to try the slopes. Anybody else?”
Mer held up a hand. “Let’s info-dump first. Anybody find out anything?” When no one spoke, Meredith sighed. “Well, I did. These people make money hiding sort-of, kind-of criminals. Like, white collar. Martha Stewart. Not convicted ones, but people who are being investigated. Not Americans, either. Sketchers from the EU.”
“Lifestyles of the rich and shady,” Drew said drolly.
“Exactly. So they have excellent security and they seem to be discreet. Discretion is on everyone’s mind, all the time. They feel strongly about it.”
“Good to know,” Cayne said. “I spoke to someone with the resort’s security. They screen guests well. The only reason we got in was Carlin.”
Carlin blanched.
“Her Uncle Ferdinand is a guest here sometimes.”
After a few more minutes of shared intuitions and a quick pull-back of the heavy curtains, it was decided: There would be no
“What do you mean by sketchy?” Cayne asked, in what to Julia sounded like a normal voice.
Drew must have imagined an edge. His tone got a little more hostile and he shifted into a fighting stance, ticking points off on his fingers. “Let’s go over this one more time: I lived at the compound all my life, and I never saw him there. Then suddenly, after a huge attack, he shows up, and he wants to come with us? Julia doesn’t recognize his aura, and he claims he’s some kind of experiment? Which I know none of us buy.”
Carlin opened her mouth, but Drew cut her off.
“Those of us who aren’t crushing.”
“Hey!”
“Oh please. And Julia… he said she’s The One. He knew what her headache
meant—” Julia flinched a little, tightening her jaw against the pressure/pain inside her skull— “but he never told us how he knew. When he met Julia he told her he worked for The Three—”
“Actually he called himself a consultant.”
“Yeah, well I don’t see much difference. And how do we know he isn’t still ‘consulting’?”
The room was silent; everyone was frowning.
“Those are valid points,” Cayne agreed, “but if he is working for The Three, he’s had plenty of chances to help deliver Julia back to them. I agree, it’s odd that he hasn’t shown back up, but I’m not too concerned. The security here is excellent. And, if it came to it, I could fly away with Julia. Edan has never been a threat to her.”
“Speaking of flying…” Julia braced herself to speak for Cayne, but he beat her to it, leaning forward in the huge wing-backed chair where he sat in front of the fireplace like the king of a castle.
“I’d like to do a fly-over. I’ve shown my wings once without it causing trouble, and it would help us find the tiger on the landing pad sooner. I could go at night, and I could cover the area in an hour or so. Helicopter landing pads are easily to spot from the sky. Julia will come with me. If we don’t find the tiger or anything that resembles it, then we can try another area.”
“Shhhh!” Carlin slashed her hand through the air, and she dove for the phone, a small, black cordless thing with an extremely quiet ringer.
“Hello,” she answered, then broke into a grin—that faded fast.
“It’s him,” Mer reported, zeroing in on Carlin’s feelings.
A few seconds later, Carlin hung up the phone.
“What did he say?” Mer asked Carlin.
“He’s at a hostel.”
“Here?”
Carlin nodded.
“There are hostels here?”
“He met a girl,” Carlin said woefully, “and he’s followed her to a hostel on the resort grounds.”
Cayne made an approving face, so classically ‘Martian’ that Julia smiled a little. “When is he coming back?”
Carlin shrugged, then slumped down on the bed. As soon as she was down, she was up again. She tossed her arms out. “What a shady bastard.” The curl on the “r” was more intense than usual. “As for me, I want to try the slopes. Anybody else?”
Mer held up a hand. “Let’s info-dump first. Anybody find out anything?” When no one spoke, Meredith sighed. “Well, I did. These people make money hiding sort-of, kind-of criminals. Like, white collar. Martha Stewart. Not convicted ones, but people who are being investigated. Not Americans, either. Sketchers from the EU.”
“Lifestyles of the rich and shady,” Drew said drolly.
“Exactly. So they have excellent security and they seem to be discreet. Discretion is on everyone’s mind, all the time. They feel strongly about it.”
“Good to know,” Cayne said. “I spoke to someone with the resort’s security. They screen guests well. The only reason we got in was Carlin.”
Carlin blanched.
“Her Uncle Ferdinand is a guest here sometimes.”
After a few more minutes of shared intuitions and a quick pull-back of the heavy curtains, it was decided: There would be no
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