Thomas sucked in a breath of combined rage and worry and then snatched up the knapsack he’d left lying on his bed and began dragging out fresh clothes one-handed. “I’m dressing right now. I’ll be on the street in three minutes. I’ll find her Bastien,” he vowed grimly.
Thomas didn’t wait for Bastien to say goodbye or hang up, but slapped the phone back in its cradle and snatched it back right away as he punched in Herb’s number.
“I’m heading out now,” he announced abruptly, not bothering with a greeting. “Can you check the coordinates again and get back to me if they’re different?”
The moment Herb agreed, Thomas said thanks and hung up.
“Inez!” he shouted as he whipped off his towel and dragged on a clean pair of jeans.
“Yes?”
He glanced up as she came rushing into the room, concern on her face.
“Are you ready?” Thomas asked, doing up his pants. “We have to move.”
“I’m ready,” Inez assured him, patting the purse hanging from her shoulder. “What’s happened?”
“Etienne got through on Aunt Marguerite’s phone,” he said as he grabbed the T-shirt he’d pulled out and tugged it on over his head. “Some guy answered and said if we didn’t stop calling he’d kill her. We have to find her before he does something to her.”
Inez nodded solemnly and he could feel her watching him as he pulled on a pair of socks and slipped his feet into a pair of casual Merrells.
“Do you think this man who answered Marguerite’s phone is the one who took control of me and wiped my memory?”
Thomas glanced sharply her way. Her voice had sounded vulnerable and she looked upset. He didn’t blame her. It would be very upsetting to know that someone had taken control of your mind and then wiped the memory of whatever had happened from your thoughts. Anything could have been done to her and she wouldn’t now know about it. Stepping in front of her, Thomas pulled her to his chest and rubbed her back soothingly.
“I don’t know,” he admitted softly and then said flatly, “But if he is, he’ll be sorry.”
Ten
“This is the spot.”
Inez looked slowly over the five or six restaurants in a row. Each had a grouping of tables and chairs outside. They were presently filled with people enjoying a late breakfast in the sunlight, or under the shade offered by the large umbrellas over each table.
Mouth thinning, she peered over the sea of faces, and then glanced up toward the sky where the sun shone brightly down, and finally to Thomas beside her. Worry drew her eyebrows together. He’d binged on six bags of blood before they’d left the hotel. He’d also pulled on a hat, sunglasses, and a long-sleeved shirt that was now buttoned all the way to the top to protect him as much as possible from the sun’s damaging rays, but she knew it wasn’t enough. He really shouldn’t be out here at all, but had refused to listen when she’d suggested going by herself.
Thomas’s refusal to even consider the suggestion had left her both upset and relieved. Inez was upset because she knew he really shouldn’t be out here, but relieved because after being controlled the night before, she feared it happening again and really didn’t want to go anywhere alone.
“I don’t see her,” Thomas said with frustration, and Inez turned her gaze back to the crowd, running her eyes more slowly over them, searching each table for Marguerite Argeneau.
“I don’t either,” she said at last. “But then if she’s being held against her will, they aren’t likely to take her out in public.”
“No,” Thomas muttered, his mouth tightening. “But whoever has her has her phone, and he shouldn’t be out here either.”
Inez glanced at him, eyebrows rising. “Why not?”
“He has to be immortal too,” he pointed out. “And most wouldn’t sit out in the sunlight like this.”
Inez opened her mouth to ask why it had to be an immortal, but then realized that with the whole mind-control thing, no mortal could keep an immortal where they didn’t want to be. That suggested that either Marguerite was dead, badly injured and without the strength necessary to take control of a mortal, or she was being held by an immortal who had a mortal working for him, and it was the mortal who had the phone and was seated here in the sun, eating a leisurely brunch. She was hoping it was the last option.
“The person with her phone could be anyone… If her phone is even still here,” she pointed out as his phone began to ring.
Thomas tugged the cell out of his pocket, flipped it open, listened, grunted an “okay,” and then slapped it closed.