Out of Mind

Chapter 15

Ben had almost dragged Willow out of her office. She seemed zombielike at the time and didn’t say a word to the staring group they had passed in the tattoo parlor. He told the woman, whom he remembered as someone employed at Mean ’n Green, that he was taking Willow home. With a vacant smile on her face, the woman had only nodded.

They were in luck when the policeman outside seemed to pay no attention to them.

Bringing Willow to Fortunes had been Sykes’s idea. Neither of them wanted her back in Royal Street until she had settled down enough to deal with the anger she would face—and the demands Pascal would make. Ben had a feeling Willow could forget trying to hold on to any of her protests about being “normal.” They were outrageous anyway.

Also, by now Nat would have had a few not-so-kind words with the laid-back cop outside the tattoo parlor, and the first place he’d go looking for Willow was Millet’s.

Sykes hovered nearby. He had shifted irritably from the opposite end of the blue leather couch where Willow sat with Mario at her feet, to the raised bar and Poppy, who hung out there. Preoccupied, Poppy cast anxious glances in Ben’s direction.

“Chris has been gone almost twenty-four hours,” Willow said faintly.

Ben didn’t think it wise to tell her she’d said the same thing a few minutes earlier. “Are you sure he’s not the type to take off? Some people aren’t into anything heavy—that’s why they like to live light and alone.”

“He didn’t take off,” Willow said, and he watched, actually watched her fold inside her own mind. Automatically, he began to follow her, but stopped. He might be able to listen to her thoughts easily as long as she wasn’t consciously shutting him out, but when they had been dating, he had promised not to do that—even though she had never actually admitted it could happen.

Expressions flitted across her features. He could swear she was seeing something, and it alternately scared and angered her. All he could do was hope she would share whatever it was, and soon.

Ben kept quiet, although there was enough noise at Fortunes to vibrate the average listener’s eardrums.

The club was closed, but a jam session blasted from the stage in bursts. Gabby LaHane, diamonds glinting in heavy gold jewelry, ground out a gritty chorus of “You Held Me Tight,” while his fingers drummed rapidly over the piano keys—big, stubby fingers as agile as a breeze through new grass.

“Why are you so sure Chris didn’t pack up and leave?” Ben said, shifting to the edge of his own blue-covered chair. The club was just about all blue, including the walls and floor, and eerie, the way the Fortune siblings liked it. “If he didn’t, where is he?”

Blinking slowly, Willow looked at him. “There is so much anger,” she said. “Everywhere. Anger. Revenge. They want revenge. I don’t know why they’ve taken the others. What do they want them for?”

She wasn’t really asking questions of anyone but herself.

He didn’t make any sudden moves and shot approaching Sykes a warning glance. If he weren’t trying to keep his physical reactions to Willow under control, he would sit by her. The closer he was, the more successful he seemed at keeping her interacting with him.

Ben waited, and so did Sykes, who braced his feet apart and crossed his arms, his eyes unreadable.

“If we don’t destroy them, they will destroy us,” Willow muttered. “The Embran.”

The movement Ben saw from the edge of his vision was Sykes’s arms dropping to his sides. The two men met each other’s eyes. Ben sensed that Sykes had heard what Willow said and its meaning had shocked him. He padded toward them, as graceful as ever, but giving off waves of antagonism.

“Listen to them,” Willow said, very quietly. “They are beautiful, especially when they smile.”

“The Embran?”

Willow startled, her eyes coming into focus. But she didn’t give him an answer.

“Who is beautiful when they smile?” he pressed.

“I don’t know!” Willow spoke so loudly that Sykes came at a run and the dog jumped on her lap. “No, I don’t know, I tell you. I want it all to stop. I don’t like any of it.”

Poppy started to leave the bar, but Sykes looked back and shook his head.

Ben couldn’t hold back; he went to sit beside Willow at once and pulled her into his arms. A new reaction, pain, at the bottom of his spine, shot through his pelvis, and he tried to not acknowledge that he was erect. This seemed purely sexual, but his overwhelming feeling was the need to protect Willow. He couldn’t bear her to be afraid, and she was deeply afraid now.

Taking the arm of the sofa on Willow’s opposite side, Sykes looked into her face. “Take some deep breaths,” he told her. “And quit worrying.”

“I won’t let anything happen to you,” Ben said. “Not ever.”

She opened her mouth, but her breathing stayed shallow. The hand she closed just above Ben’s knee jolted her. It doubled Ben over, and there was nothing he could do to stop himself.

Through waves of excruciatingly perfect pain he heard Sykes’s soft laughter and it gave him the strength to straighten up. Gradually he was left with edgy, demanding awareness, and he could hold Willow even closer while he glared at Sykes.

“All over between the two of you, huh?” Sykes said. “It’s a good job you found that out before it was too late.”

“Quit it,” Willow told him. “This isn’t a joke.”

“I’m sure it’s not,” Sykes said, struggling for a straight face. “Never having experienced what goes with, er, it, myself, I can only guess about that.”

What amazed Ben was that Willow didn’t try to push him away.

“I never wanted any of this,” she said.

“Can you explain exactly what you mean by this?” Ben asked. “Who have they taken? You said you don’t know why they took them. Was it the Embran who did that?”

She shook her head repeatedly, from side to side. “I don’t know anymore. But some have been taken. The Embran, yes, they’ve started taking people.”

“How do you know?”

“I just know.” Willow looked sideways at him, and everything she really thought about what might or might not be true about herself, showed in her eyes. “I’m not normal, am I?” she whispered.

“Depends on your interpretation of normal,” Sykes said. “Feels normal to me and Ben—and all the other members of our families, and some other families we know about.”

“You didn’t need me, too,” Willow said. “Why did I have to be dragged in?”

“I need you,” Ben said quietly, not caring if Sykes heard.

“Something tried to lift me up and take me away,” Willow said, still staring at Ben’s face. “At my office. I thought it was going to. I couldn’t see it or feel it with my hands—only its hold on me and the way I started being dragged out of my chair.”

Horror gripped Ben. She couldn’t be left alone—ever—not as long as she was vulnerable enough to…to die for someone else’s fight.

“Whose fight is it?” he asked Sykes silently.

His old friend raised a brow. They hadn’t communicated telepathically since they were kids in school and did it to amuse themselves. “Willow told you more about the Embran than I thought she knew. I believe there really was a visitation at her office—from someone on our side, probably Jude. He went to save her from whatever was trying to take her away.”

“Yes. But why is she the focus? What she’s talking about is a kidnap attempt, but why her? And I think she’s getting hints of someone, or more than one, who have already been taken.”

“We’ve got more than that to figure out,” Sykes said. “Someone’s dumped a jigsaw puzzle on the floor for us.”

“I never liked jigsaws. Chess is my game.” Ben heard Sykes laugh behind his serious face. “Next time we play I’ll bet you the same as usual,” Ben told him. The last game they played, Sykes won. The record tended to even out, though.

“We’ll need to work together with her,” Sykes said. “I’ll get Marley on board, too. And Gray. He’s coming along nicely.”

“Good idea. They’ll jump at the chance—once Marley stops being mad that this isn’t all over. She’s very protective of Willow.”

Ben caught Willow frowning at him. She hugged Mario, who looked smug, yes, smug. The dog had a whole range of annoying expressions.

“What is it?” he asked Willow.

She kept staring at him, then turned in Sykes’s direction.

“Watch out or she may hear us,” Ben heard Sykes tell him. “She’s giving in to what she is, and her talents are taking over. I want to know how developed her powers are.”

She turned her attention to a glass ball in the middle of the nearest table. Each table in the place had a similar ball. “They’re hokey,” she said, and he saw her shoulders heave a little. “Crystal balls in a club called Fortunes—awful.”

Ben chuckled. “Thank you. They’re snow globes with fiber-optic lights.” She chose odd times to notice decor. “They’ve got motion sensors.”

Sykes bent to pass a hand over the glass ball near them. Blue light zipped around inside like skinny shards of lightning—and snow whirled.

“Still hokey,” she said. “All you need is fake thunder booming overhead.”

Ben was tempted, but controlled the urge to oblige.

“You’re changing the subject,” Sykes said. “Let’s get back to what happened at your office. It’s easy to gloss over something important, and we need to know it all.”

Her face set and she sat even closer to Ben of her own accord. “Okay, I’ll say it again,” she said in a monotone, a white line forming around her lips. “An attempt was made to kidnap me—I think. I don’t know who or what did it. And a man came to show me a book. He was handsome, with white streaks in his long, black hair. His clothes were old-fashioned. And purple smoke filled everything up. Smoke. Haze. A cloud. I don’t know. It all sounds stupid.”

Ben wouldn’t let her jerk free of his arms, which was what she immediately tried to do.

“Back up,” he said. “A man with a book and purple smoke? Very normal, Willow—happens to people all the time.”

He felt her shudder. “You called before anything happened,” she said. “Why did you come rushing over to get me?”

“That can wait. What man? What book?” Sykes had hinted at the things she was talking about.

“I already know,” Sykes said. “At least, I think the man could be Jude Millet.”

Willow sat up straighter and craned to see her brother. “That Jude? The Mentor? The one who reminds us about following the—”

“That one,” Sykes said rapidly.

Ben got the impression his friend didn’t want all of his family’s business aired. That would change once Willow gave in and let Ben back into her life for good. Covertly, he looked at her profile. He had never seen or met another woman who pleased him as Willow did, or one he wanted with even a fraction of the desire he had for her.

She would be his—unless he had somehow hurt her too deeply and without knowing. He would find out what had made her drive him away before and deal with it.

“Jude was the first male Millet born with dark hair and blue eyes,” Willow told him, apparently oblivious to Sykes’s desire to keep this information to themselves. “He was the one in charge of the family’s affairs at the time, in Bruges—that’s Belgium.”

“I know,” Ben said.

“His fiancée had died and he was desolate, so he married another woman—to ease the pain, I suppose. This one ruined the family. Just about. I think she must have had something to do with these Embran people…things, or whatever they are…if they’re anything. She was evil, and the people there thought she was a witch. Anyway, because of her, everything fell apart in Belgium and the family had to escape to London, then here to New Orleans. With each move they lost things they treasured.

“That’s who Jude was…is. He’s our Mentor. He guards the Book of Rules. Our parents are supposedly looking for the book to help them get rid of a curse. I don’t understand it when we know it’s with Jude. Wherever he is…or…” She looked troubled and confused.

Sykes’s expression was blank.

“And it’s why Sykes isn’t looking after the family instead of Pascal now our parents have taken off,” Willow continued, raising her voice to compete with a drum solo. “Sykes is the second male Millet heir—after Jude—with dark hair and blue eyes. Our folks decided to go look for a way to break the curse—that’s the dark-haired, blue-eyed curse like Sykes has got—and because Sykes is so cursed, Uncle Pascal had to take over. He never wanted to and he shaved off all his red hair because he was mad at getting saddled with the responsibility for the family and everything else that should still be my dad’s. Uncle Pascal’s the younger brother, see, and he should never have had to look after things.”

“Cursed, are you, Sykes?” Ben said. “I could have told you that before.”

“Sure you could.” Sykes had the grace to grin. “I guess all this revelation means Willow is welcoming you into the family—just like you’ll be welcoming her into yours. I look forward to hearing all your secrets.”

“We don’t have any,” Ben said, attempting complacency. He had no intention of sharing anything secretive about the Fortunes—other than with Willow when the time came.

Unfortunately, Willow didn’t show signs of announcing that they were a couple again.

“The man showed me a picture of a dragon—a horrible thing. And a picture of a pale woman’s effigy. A stone angel like we have at home. She was beautiful and she smiled at me. Please don’t ask how a picture of a stone woman smiles. I don’t know. That was before she looked as if she wanted to kill someone.

“If we don’t destroy the Embran, they’ll destroy us, that’s what the man said. And he told me to listen to the woman. He said she was beautiful when she smiled, but I don’t know what he meant by any of it.”

At the mention of a dragon, Ben had all but stopped listening. “You think that could have been a picture of Marley’s dragon? The one who almost killed her?”

“I never saw it,” Willow said. “But I think it must have been.”

Sykes pulled up a chair of his own and sat in that.

What Sykes had told Ben about Willow was that she could sense or even see old injuries and knew the emotional damage they had done. And some of the time, she knew what others were thinking and feeling, if the contacts were strong. In her case, according to Sykes, strong seemed to mean very heightened emotion. Ben began to think there were aspects of Willow that Sykes did not know about.

Willow checked her watch. “I’ve got an appointment soon,” she said, but she didn’t meet Ben’s eyes.

“What kind of appointment?”

“It’s business,” she said.

“Where?”

“I’ll be just fine now,” she told them, making a move to get up. “I can’t hide away forever.”

“You can if you need to,” Sykes said. “And if we make you.”

Ben winced and knew he would not have long to wait for the explosion.

“If you make me?” Willow stood up and whirled on both of them. “You don’t get to make me do anything.”

“You’re in danger,” Sykes said. “Haven’t you figured that out yet?”

“Of course I have.”

“No,” Ben said. “You’re not. Sykes likes his drama. I won’t let you be in danger.” He meant it. He knew the risks and the concentration he would need to fight off all comers, but this was his intended mate. What he would not tell her was that if she died, so did he. That was one of those secrets the Fortunes pretended they didn’t have. They did not outlive their mates, or not for long.

The music swelled to full, hypnotic volume. “Just a Closer Walk with Thee” beat its irresistible patterns around the club. On the stage, the musicians played as if they’d entered a trance and they were many parts that made up one whole.

Ben saw his brothers, Liam and Ethan, walk into the club. They paused, looking his way, but instantly picked up that he didn’t want to be disturbed. Carrying on, they went directly to Poppy, who spoke and gestured expansively. All three arranged themselves in a row, elbows on the bar behind them, where they could watch Willow, Sykes and Ben easily.

“It’s a zoo here,” Ben said. “Next there will be clowns.”

“There already are,” Sykes told him. “Nasty ones. We’re just not seeing them yet, or not clearly.”

“We need to talk bats,” Ben said, afraid Sykes would say too much for Willow to cope with. So far she was holding up well enough.

“Rock U. mentioned bats,” she said, eyes widening. “I thought he was joking.”

“Bats have been seen in daylight in the Quarter,” Ben told her. “Rock U.?”

“Tattoo parlor guy,” she told him. “He said he heard about it on the cruiser radio parked outside our building.”

“Did he say anything else?”

“Just that people had been scared by them. Zinnia—my office manager—she said if bats come out in daylight they could be rabid.”

“Wish that was all,” Sykes muttered. “Some details have leaked out about the condition of the two corpses in the morgue. Blades is ready to take the mouthy culprit apart if he can find him—or her. Now bats have been seen, and the public theory is that they are rabid and that’s what’s killing people.”

“Might be a good thing if they do think that,” Ben said. “At least it’ll keep them from thinking other things.”

He studied Willow, who had fallen silent again. Not so long ago he had seen a shaded being fly from behind her and rise in the air. He had almost gotten close enough to touch the thing—or had he? Could it have been a bat, or what passed as a bat for the locals?

Willow got up. She looked from Sykes to Ben and said, “I need to be alone. There’s something I must do.”

Ben bit back a protest. She couldn’t be left alone, but it looked as if they would have to make her think she had been. With his mind, he told Sykes what he intended to do.

“Are you sure she won’t pick up on you?” Sykes said.

Ben gave a short laugh. “If I can’t manage this, we’re in big trouble. Talk to Marley, will you? And Pascal, of course. And Gray. If necessary I’ll pull in Liam and Ethan—or even Poppy.”

“Not unless we have to,” Sykes said. “We have to be able to control this.”

Their exchange took only an instant, and Willow turned away, heading for the door. She shot them a warning glance over her shoulder.