Page 67
It seemed like she expected some sort of answer. Fortunately, she hadn’t asked a question.
“She says you may not be leaving,” she prodded.
“At the end of the month, as I’d planned. I’m not. Unless Laria and I follow up on this lead.”
A but hung between them.
“When the time comes—” she started.
“Who knows?” He lowered his voice. “Maybe no new Cheld will arise anytime soon.”
Biting the insides of both cheeks, Alessandra looked at him the way a mother does a wayward child.
He shrugged. “It could be months.”
“Or days.”
“The finding, and cloaking, could go quickly—”
“Or take a year.”
She’d been well-schooled on the matter. And he couldn’t deny she was right. Most Cheld who came into their abilities were trained, and cloaked, by family members familiar with the process. Only the ones who had no knowledge of their ancestry, like Alessandra, needed his family’s intervention. But it was no simple matter. Sometimes, it took a long time to pinpoint the location of a new Cheld. Training, if it was required, took longer, and a few of the new Cheld, those resistant to the truth, needed to be watched until they learned to always, always cloak themselves with the dried rose stems.
The Derricksons would do anything to prevent the other eventuality—that the Morleys would find the Cheld first and then there would be no Cheld to protect.
“Has Kenton heard from either of his brothers?” he asked.
Drake and Rowan had been unusually quiet. Not that he was complaining. He and Alessandra might not have gotten off to a great start, but he certainly didn’t want to see her killed. This was the first instance Torr could remember of either Morley brother knowing of a Cheld’s existence and allowing him or her to live.
But also the first time that the Cheld in question was engaged to a Morley.
Even so, he would not expect them, Rowan especially, to hold back for long.
“Nothing,” she said, gathering her belongings. “But don’t try to change the topic. Charlotte—”
“Is a big girl and knows what she’s getting into.”
Alessandra’s flashing eyes told him she hadn’t liked the way he’d put that. She let him know it too. “Of sorts. But dealing with . . . your kind isn’t always so straightforward.”
He covered his heart with his hands. “You wound me.”
Alessandra rolled her eyes.
“I’ll do more than that if you mess with my girl—”
“I believe you,” he said more seriously. “But don’t you think we have more important matters at hand?”
Turning off the microfiche machine, Alessandra stood up. “Such as?”
“Such as the fact that nearly a week has passed since we found the journal, and we’re no closer to the truth.”
Well, maybe slightly closer.
She shrugged. “If Annabel knows, she hasn’t spilled the beans yet.”
“And if she does—”
“Then you won’t be the only one leaving Stone Haven.”
If he was forced to leave, would she come with him?
Despite himself, he felt a rush of pleasure at the thought of Charlotte accompanying him on his travels . . . of them seeing the world together . . .
But would she ever consider such a thing? Could he ask her to abandon her job, the security and respect she’d built at such personal cost? To do what? Cavort like a playboy, as she called him?
