“ You lied to him.”
“My mum never taught me the virtues of sharing.” He moved toward the car. “Cardeau was one of mine and Deschamps killed him.” He smiled. “ Besides, I’m much better at this than Travis. It’s one of my specialties.”
“ I know.” Pichot grimaced. “ I’m counting on it. I want to get out of this alive.”
“ You will.” Galen started the car. “ Now, where is this place?”
“ Number fifteen Rue Lestape.”
“ Was that Galen on the phone?” Travis turned to see Melissa a few feet away, hair tousled, wearing a navy blue Sorbonne nightshirt.
“ Yes.”
“Has he found Danielle Claron?”
He shook his head. “He’s trying to persuade her parents to give her a message if they know where she is. They live in St. Ives, a small village outside Lyon, not too far from Henri Claron’s farm.”
“ There’s a chance they do know?”
“Don’t we all cling to our parents? It’s natural to run to them for safety. Some say it’s the strongest bond we have in our lifetime.” He looked beyond her to the bedroom. “Cassie?”
“Okay.” She rubbed the back of her neck. “Stubborn. It’s hell getting in and harder to make her listen. I have to plant myself and keep talking.”
“ What do you talk about?”
“ The outside. Her father and mother. The Wind Dancer.” She sat down in a chair and tucked one leg beneath her. “ You.”
“Me?”
“ You’re the bridge between the tunnel and the outside.” She made a face. “She still trusts you. I’m the enemy right now.”
“ You can’t make her understand?”
“She’s seven years old. I’d have dug my heels in too if Jessica had tried the same tactics.”
“And you’re still sure they’re the right tactics?”
“ I have to be sure. Otherwise I’m lost. There’s got to be a breakthrough soon.” She leaned her head back on the chair. “ I’m as impatient as you are to get her well.”
“ I’ve never said I was impatient.”
“ You didn’t have to say it. I can feel it.”
He smiled. “ I’m glad Galen isn’t here. He remarked on the fact that you’re a little on the fey side.”
“Did he? I thought he’d picked up on a slip I made. He doesn’t like anyone knowing him too well.”
“Slip?”
She moved her shoulders uncomfortably. “Sometimes I know . . . things.”
“ Telepathy?”
“ For God’s sake, no. I’d want to jump in the river if I had that kind of albatross around my neck.”
“ What about Cassie?”
“ That’s different. Everything about Cassie has been different. Usually I just . . . sometimes I pick up on things.”
“And you picked up on the fact that I’m impatient.”
She shifted in the chair. “ It’s hard to hide that. You have every right to be impatient. You want to be rid of us so that—”
“ You’re right, I want to be rid of you.” He drew a deep breath. “Right now. Go back to bed, Melissa.”
“ In a few minutes.”
“ Now.”
“ I think we should talk this out. There’s too much—” She inhaled sharply as she met his gaze. “ Travis?”
“ It doesn’t take much talent to read my mind right now, does it?”
“ No.”
“ Then get yourself back to bed and let me think of something besides those gorgeous long legs and what’s between them.”
She slowly uncurled herself from the chair. “ I can’t— It’s not the right time, Travis.”
“ I know that.” He tried to keep the edge from his voice. “ I’m not a fool. But we both know it’s been there from the beginning.” He grimaced. “And my mind may tell me one thing, but my body doesn’t recognize mourning as a valid reason to go dormant. It’s all for propagating the species. So get out of here, will you?”
“ I’m going.” But she still stood there. “ It’s not that I—”
“ I know. Wrong time.” He reached for the book on the table. “And probably the wrong man. We could have a hell of a lot of fun, but I can’t see you doing a one-night stand. You have too much Jessica in you.”
“ I’m nothing like Jessica.” She moistened her lips. “ But you’re right, I do have problems with ships that pass in the night. I need to know where I am with people these days.”