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She was choosing to trust him for now, to get some answers, but she would not forget being trapped in that forest anytime soon. So, she would stay in public, where people would notice if anything untoward happened.My curiosity is going to get me killed, Nayome thought to herself, shaking her head in frustration. But she felt that same nagging in her gut, driving her forward to find answers, to riddle out this puzzle.
A steady drizzle of rain had been falling most of the day, the sun hidden behind a sheet of grey overcast clouds that blanketed the sky. Nayome cinched the hood on her yellow raincoat tighter around her neck, fighting off the damp, chill breeze.
She was glad to see the patio decked out with a roof and propane heaters. It must be necessary in this area, with so many rainy days. Greeting the hostess, Nayome made her way to a booth at the far corner. It was well within the sight line of the guests and staff, but most other patrons had clustered around the outdoor bar in the center, tuned into whatever matches that were broadcasting on the dual flat screens.
Taking her seat, Nayome glanced up at the sound of the hostess greeting someone. The hostess was a pretty brunette, with long legs on full display in a micro mini. She had barely glanced up from her cell phone when Nayome had arrived, and had no issue when Nayome had requested to seat herself, handing over a menu and waving her off. Whoever had just arrived was getting her full attention, though.
Of course, Nayome thought, as her eyes met Balfor’s dark stare, as the hostess led him to her table. Forgetting to breathe for a second, Nayome felt the full impact of that gaze, eyes dropping to his lips, as he gave her a small smile. Nayome felt herself flush and looked away, embarrassed and irritated with herself.
She had to hand it to him, at least, as she watched the rest of his approach from over the top of her menu. He didn’t spare the swinging hips, and barely covered derriere of the hostess, a single glance. The girl was putting on an impressive show for him, too.
Balfor slid easily into the booth opposite her. As though pulled by a magnetic force, Nayome’s eyes were inevitably drawn to the arresting presence in front of her. He looked out of place, his face too sculpted, eyes too shadowed. The forest had suited him. Seeing him sitting in front of her in the hustle and bustle of the real world was jarring.
“I’m glad you called. I had thought you may want nothing else to do with me, after everything that happened.” Balfor said, eyeing Nayome curiously.
“I had thought the same. I just…” Nayome trailed off.What had changed?Nayome stared down at her menu, not reading a word. This had been a stupid idea. “It seemed like you genuinely protected me from the others. You kept your word to me. I hope deciding to trust you now isn’t a mistake.”
“It is in both of our best interest to keep our meeting a secret, at least until—”
“No. Not until. Secret. I want nothing to do with any of them,” Nayome snapped, feeling uneasy all over again.
Balfor hesitated, then nodded. “As you wish.”
Nayome was about to speak, when their server interrupted to take their drink orders.
“Alright, so we have some ground rules,” Nayome said, after the waiter had left.
“Indeed.”
Nayome shifted uncomfortably in the silence, as two beers and a couple of glasses of water were set on their table. Thick cork coasters were set down to protect the wood tabletop from beads of condensation that trailed down the glasses.
The sound of rustling paper cut through the silence, and Nayome looked up in surprise as Balfor unrolled and spread a long, old looking piece of parchment on the table.
Interest piqued despite herself, Nayome leaned forward to get a better look.
“This is a family tree.” Balfor explained. “Our community keeps extensive records. We know of every child born into one of our lines. At least we thought we did.”
The intricate detail was beautiful. Nayome watched Balfor’s finger trail down one specific line until it ended.
“I believe you may be an unknown daughter of this line.”
“That’s obviously not possible,” Nayome said, as she took in the detail on the page. Whoever had created this must have studied calligraphy. Every pen stroke was sweeping and artistic.
Balfor cleared his throat. “I did some digging this afternoon.”
“And?” Nayome eyed him distrustfully.Was this how they pulled people into their cult?
“Your parents, Mr. and Mrs. Miller…You know you were adopted, correct?”
“Of course,” Nayome grit out. How had he dug that up? “It was never a secret. That doesn’t mean I’m some descendant of your secret society”
“Do you know who your biological parents are?” Balfor asked.
“I looked into it,” Nayome admitted, not sure how much she wanted to share with him. “My mom is a waitress. She left me a letter, but requested no contact and I’ve respected that. She is from Wisconsin, hardly the type to live off-grid in a tree house.”
“And your father?” Balfor probed. He had reached the end of the tree, hand resting beside a notation that read ‘Graeme, son of Shorcha’
“Unknown.” Nayome admitted reluctantly. “That means nothing, though. There are hundreds of lowlifes running around that probably don’t know, or don’t want to know, that they’ve knocked up their flavor of the week. My situation is hardly unique.”
