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“And if they’d actually listened to you—or actually believed your psi abi
lities just that once,” Belle cut in tartly, “your sister might well have survived. Her death is on their shoulders, not yours. I’ve long thought their over-the-top reaction was in part due to that knowledge.”
“You’ve never said that to me.”
“I did. You never wanted to hear it.”
Probably because thinking about that time—about them—sparked all the fear, disbelief, and horror to life. And I really wasn’t looking forward to reliving them under the truth seeker’s ministrations.
“I’m not entirely sure what ringing my mother will actually achieve aside from awkwardness. It’s been too long—”
“For both of us,” she said gently. “But for your peace of mind, more than your mother’s, you need to speak to her. If nothing else, you can ask her why she never objected to the so-called marriage.”
“I guess.” I wrinkled my nose, not really wanting to think about it at all right now. “Have you contacted your mom yet?”
“I tried calling her cell phone but she must have changed numbers. I left a message on the home phone instead.” Belle laughed softly. “She always was a social butterfly.”
She was also kind, generous, and loving. She—and her contacts—was also the reason the two of us had been able to disappear so thoroughly. “I’d love to be a fly on the wall when she finally listens to that message.”
“Yeah.” Belle’s smile was bright with anticipation and absolute happiness. “I’ll probably have to hold the phone away from my ear for several minutes while she gets her screaming and sobbing over with.”
This moment had been a very long time coming for Belle, and I couldn’t have been more pleased. She’d given up so much more than I had when we’d both gone on the run. “She probably won’t be the only one sobbing.”
“Absolutely not.” Belle made a motion toward the stairs. “Go soak in the tub for an hour or so. I’ll ring Jenna and let her know we’ll be ready by eight.”
I nodded and wearily climbed the stairs. Once I’d filled the bathtub, I threw in some Epsom salts as well as a mix of lavender and rosemary oils, then spent the next hour doing nothing more than topping up the water’s heat and listening to music.
Dinner was a chicken, avocado, and cheese pizza with barbeque sauce for me, and a traditional Aussie pizza for Belle, followed up by coffee and the last two slices of banana bread cheesecake. To say I felt better after that mountain of food was an understatement. Maybe the changes I was undergoing thanks to the wild magic were also altering my appetite; if that was true, I just had to hope it also adjusted my metabolic rate. I was happy with my current weight and really didn’t want it to go up—or down, for that matter.
The two women appeared right on the dot of eight. Ruby strode in and scanned the café with interest. “Lovely atmosphere in this room, but it’s really not suitable for what we have to do. Have you got somewhere more comfortable?”
“We’ve a sofa upstairs,” I said, “but the four of us won’t fit on it.”
“That’s fine—we’ll be quite happy with one of the café chairs. It’s more your comfort during the reading that we’re worried about.”
I directed them toward the stairs and then said, “Would either of you like tea or coffee?”
“A green tea would be lovely,” Ruby said.
“I’ll have a revitalizing potion, if you don’t mind making it,” Jenna said. “This process knocks me about a fair bit.”
As they continued on, I made the drinks and then carried them up on a tray. The coffee table had been shifted to one side, and the two chairs we kept on the balcony had been dragged inside. One had been positioned in front of the sofa and the other was off to the side.
I placed the tray on the table, handed out the drinks, and then sat beside Belle on the sofa.
“So, what’s the process?”
“It’s quite simple, really.” Jenna perched on the chair in front of me, then placed the potion on the floor. “Or will be, once you drop those mental shields of yours. You simply have to think back to the moment you were first told of the marriage, and I’ll take it from there.”
I frowned. “So you’ll just be verbalizing my memories for the sake of the recording?”
“No, I’ll actually be bringing your memories to life so that the camera can record them. They’ll basically be a movie that plays out in the space between us for as long as my mind is connected with yours. I’ll be verbally overlaying that with both your thoughts and replies, as the two aren’t always the same.”
“That’s one hell of a variation on telepathy,” Belle commented.
“Yes, and there’re few who can do it—and fewer still who actually want to do it.”
“I’m guessing that’s why you asked for a potion,” Belle said.
