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  When Bas finally looked at Harrison, his lips had curved into a small, sad smile. “Why do you assume I was referring to Julie? She is not the only one who faces darkness if she doesn’t have the courage to change.”

  Julie heard muted voices in the kitchen. Pushing herself up, she swung her feet to the floor. What was she doing on the couch? Who was in her kitchen? With a rush, the past evening came back to her. Tasha had gone missing with a Shadow Walker.

  Julie jumped to her feet and ran into the kitchen. Both Harry and Bas turned to look at her.

  “Is there any news from Tasha?” She propped herself against the doorjamb, still not entirely awake.

  Bas poured her a cup of coffee and brought it to her while Harry shook his head. “I’ve been calling Tasha’s cell every hour.”

  “We need to call the police.”

  “No.” Both Bas and Harry spoke the word together.

  Julie straightened. “My daughter is missing and in the company of a potentially dangerous man.”

  “In spite of what Marguerite has done, I don’t believe Luc Deschamps is a danger to your daughter.” Harry’s jaw set in an implacable line. “The Guardians are searching for Tasha as we speak.”

  “Don’t call the police?” Julie walked slowly into the kitchen and set her cup down on the maple kitchen table. She sat in one of the chairs. Her mind wasn’t functioning yet, but not calling the police seemed wrong. Having a lot of Linda-type people looking for her daughter seemed wrong. Harry seemed to read her mind.

  “The Guardians aren’t all like Linda. Most of them blend well with the human population. You can’t tell them from anybody else.”

  “And I was just lucky to get assigned a six-foot Wonder Woman?”

  Harrison’s serious expression shifted with the hint of a smile. “I thought a visible reminder that you’re protected by the Penumbrae might act as a deterrent to Marguerite.”

  “That didn’t work.”

  Harrison’s face lost the smile. “No. That didn’t work.”

  Julie sighed. Accepting the reality of the Triad when it meant taking classes from Bas and jumping around through space with Harry was easier than when it meant placing Tash’s safety in their hands.

  Harry suddenly stood in front of her. He reached out as if to tuck one of the wayward strands of her hair behind her ear. His hand dropped to his side before he touched her. “Trust me, Julie. I will do everything in my power to find your daughter.”

  Julie looked up and met his eyes. She nodded her assent slowly. He nodded back a thank you. A promise.

  His hand reached out again, this time briefly touching her cheek. “Marguerite will know where her brother is. I’ll go to her first. I’ll keep you updated.” He paused as if he wanted to say more. He looked over at Bas, who nodded at him. Then he was gone.

  For a brief instant, a well of emptiness so vast it seemed to suck her into its hole filled the kitchen. Bas’s voice snaked into the loneliness.

  “Do you want pancakes or eggs for breakfast?”

  Julie blinked and gripped her coffee cup. “Cinnamon toast would be great. I’ve been eating a lot of it lately.”

  Bas reached down into a cupboard and pulled out a yellow ceramic bowl. “Then you’ll love my apple-cinnamon French toast.”

  Julie leaned her tired head on her hand and watched the lithe, graceful figure bustle around her kitchen. Bas was the type of man who would fit comfortably into any environment. She had a brief vision of him controlling a prancing horse, exhorting his battalion of troops to fight, Gladiator style. She had a feeling she’d go to battle for him, just as easily as she’d eat his apple cinnamon French toast. There was just something about him. She trusted him.

  Just like she trusted Harry.

  More than anything, she believed in Harry’s integrity. He would do everything within the rules of the Triad to find her daughter and keep her safe.

  The only problem was, Julie would do anything, rules of the Triad be damned, to find her daughter and keep her safe.

  She sat up straighter. “I’m going to call my mom again and Jack, Tasha’s dad, to see if they’ve heard from her.”

  Harrison stood on the graveled drive of the ancient chateau nestled in the foothills of the Montagne Noire, the Black Mountain range, in Southern France. The scent of pine blew off the wooded slopes of the mountains. Cheerful chirping filled the air as birds fluttered to and fro in the early afternoon sunlight.

  Marguerite would be sleeping at this time of day, gathering strength to place the second tie. The next new moon rose on Thursday, tomorrow.

  He controlled the anger that threatened to roar free at her audacity. For now, he needed information. He would wake her from her sleep and question her before she had her defenses fully in place.

  Still, he stood on the drive. Ahead of him, the warm sun barely penetrated the dark gloom of Les Quatre Horizons, the massive stone residence that had belonged to the Deschamps family for countless generations. The earth wards placed around the home, guarding the occupants, nudged him. He owned both sun and earth energy. They held no power over him.

  For a moment, he thought he felt Julie’s desperation touch his mind. Impossible, but enough to push him off the drive and into Marguerite’s bedroom.

  The Moonflower did not sleep easily. She tossed and turned in her plain white cotton sheets, wrapping them tightly around her like an Egyptian mummy. Large tears of sweat beaded her brow and dampened the silver strands of her hair. Her lip trickled a thin line of blood where her teeth had clamped it. She twisted again, muttering “Belle, Belle.”

  Harrison paused, surprised by her distress. He put a hand on her shoulder and immediately felt a swirl of dark evil, a tightening of the first tie. He yanked his hand away as her eyes flew open, a frantic, searing blue.

  She jack-knifed to a sitting position, and Harrison took a step back. Her eyes searched his and then skimmed the room, as if reorienting herself to where she was.

  “Balance,” she murmured, pushing at her damp hair. “What are you doing here?”

  “Where’s your brother?”

  She rubbed at her mouth and winced, grimacing when she saw the blood on the back of her hand. “Luc? I imagine he’s in the study.”

  Harrison assessed her expression carefully. “He’s gone, last seen with the young Dancer, Natasha.”

  Shock crossed her face. “Why would he be with a Dancer?”

  “You tell me, Marguerite. Why is he with Natasha, and where have they gone?”

  “You must be mistaken. Have you checked the study? If he’s not sleeping, Luc is usually there reading at this time of day.” She shook her head as if to clear it. “You’re wrong. He would not be with a Dancer.”

  She didn’t know where her brother was. That was unusual, as the Moonflower kept close tabs on her twin. Luc had slipped her leash.

  Harrison took in the circles beneath her eyes, the hollows of her flushed cheeks. This was not the confident, brash Marguerite he knew. “What troubles your sleep, Moonflower?”

  She closed her eyes. “You are the only one who calls me that anymore.”

  “Talk to me. Tell me what’s wrong and why you’re destroying your future with this curse.”

  She shook her head, not meeting his eyes. “I’m righting a wrong. Sometimes the cost of that is high.”

  “You can’t use evil to right a wrong. It always backfires in the end.”

  She lifted her chin, the defiance and anger stamped on her face her only answer.

  “This action sets you on a dangerous path,” Harrison warned. “Your people will suffer Triad-wide sanctions if they don’t bring you for judgment to the Council. Turn yourself in, Marguerite. End the curse. Your punishment will be less severe if you voluntarily release me from the first tie.”

  “I won’t do that. I’m not going to release you.” She stared at him, so certain of her power that Harrison felt the first twinge of unease.

  “Why?” he asked again.

  �
��You’ll know on Thursday, when the second tie reveals our thoughts to each other.” She stood, and the sheet slid slowly from her body, revealing milk-white skin and lush curves. “There will be no secrets between us then. We will be of one mind. We can also be of one body, Balance.” Her voice became sultry. “I will know how to perfectly please you. How each touch feels, how to build your desire.” Her hands traveled up her flat stomach and cupped her breasts, as if offering them to him.

  Harrison quietly met her gaze until a red flush touched her cheeks. Without a word, he left the room.

  Julie walked out of the heavy, wooden double doors of the church. After checking out all of Tasha’s favorite places in town, she’d stopped at Zion Lutheran Church. She sometimes went and just sat in the quiet sanctuary when she was particularly anxious or stressed about something. She always felt soothed afterwards. Today, though, not so much.

  She turned to Bas who had gone with her. “I’ll drop you off at my house if you’re sticking around. I want to head into work for a couple of hours. I doubt if I’ll get much done, but maybe if I keep myself busy, I won’t go crazy waiting to hear from Harry or Tasha or Mom.”

  Bas opened the driver’s side of the car for her. He kept an arm on the door, leaning toward her after she slid in. “You don’t have to drop me off. I can get to your house on my own.”

  “Not too many owls out and about during the daytime.”

  Bas raised an eyebrow. “I’m not limited to owls, you know. I just prefer them.” He started to shut the door for her.

  Julie held up a hand to stop him. “Bas, wait a minute. I have a question I’ve been wanting to ask you.” She didn’t quite know how to phrase it.

  Bas smiled slightly. “What do you want to know?”

  She took a deep breath and held it. “What am I? I’m not a normal Sun Dancer, am I?”

  “That’s not the right question. What you are doesn’t matter. What you do is more important.”

  Julie frowned, exhaling. “There are no wrong questions. My fourth grade teacher said so. Just answer what I asked.”

  “You know why I like cooking?”

  Julie narrowed her eyes at him. “Tell me later.”

  “You mix separate ingredients that by themselves don’t have much going for them. Have you ever eaten plain flour? Taken a taste of vanilla extract?”

  She sighed, seeing no way out of this conversational tangent. “As a matter of fact, I have. Yuck.”

  “Right. But mix them together with a little sugar, butter, eggs and some chocolate chips, and you have a great-tasting cookie.”

  “And your point is?”

  “I’ll have cookies waiting when you get home from work this afternoon.”

  “That is not your point.”

  “I know. But you already know what my point is.”

  She did? Julie tried to unravel the conversation in her head. “You’re very Gestalt,” she said tentatively. “The whole is greater than the sum of the parts.”

  “No.” He beamed like a teacher with a very bright student. “You’re very Gestalt.”

  Julie sighed and started the car. This conversation was starting to sound too much like psychotherapy. Why didn’t he just tell her the blasted answer to her question? “Step back and close the door, or I might clip one of your wings.” Bas laughed and did as she said. She put the car in gear and rolled down the window. “It’s very irritating when a person won’t answer a direct question.”

  “I’ll answer it when you’re ready to hear the answer.”

  “You don’t have a girlfriend, do you?”

  “No,” he answered, giving her a curious look. “How do you know?”

  “She would have killed you by now.” Julie scowled at him. “I like a little peanut butter in my chocolate chip cookies.”

  His smile widened. “You’ve got it.”

  Chapter Twelve

  “You’re late this morning. And where’s the Purple People Eater?” Joe stood in Julie’s office doorway. Gray hair ruffled, wearing running shorts and a T-shirt, he looked like he’d just come in from jogging.

  “Looks like you’re running late, too.” Julie pushed aside the modified Bad Luck questionnaire that she wasn’t really reading. She couldn’t even muster a smile for her pun. “And Linda is busy doing important work.” Hopefully finding her mother and daughter.

  “Aha.” He twirled an imaginary mustache, a dimple creasing his cheek. “Then I’ve found you without your chaperone.”

  “You better leave before you compromise me.”

  “What would be the fun of that?”

  “Compromising me?”

  “Leaving before I did.”

  She shook her head at him and smiled at his nonsense, despite her worry. She eyed his running attire. “What’s with the outfit?”

  He put a hand on her doorjamb. “I’ve been running to work lately. I enjoy being outside.” For a moment his face looked wistful and then the expression was gone. “I have a change of clothes in my office. I thought I’d stop by here first, though, and show you what a jock I am.”

  “Stop flirting with me.”

  “Can’t.” His grin turned mischievous. “I’ve never been good at resisting temptation.”

  “Oh, good grief.” Since when had she become a femme fatale? She considered hunting down a mirror to see if her hair had suddenly straightened and picked up some golden highlights. She touched her head and felt the soft bounce. Same old, same old. She fixed her sternest look on Joe. “No fireworks, remember? We’re just colleagues.”

  Joe held up a finger. “Wait. Be right back.” He disappeared down the hallway and returned less than a minute later. He held up a slim, silver stick.

  “Is that what I think it is?” Julie felt a reluctant smile form.

  “A sparkler. I decided to provide my own firepower.”

  She almost laughed. He looked so sweet, standing in her doorway with a sparkler and a hopeful expression.

  The diversion had actually helped to take her mind off Tasha for a few minutes. Tasha. Her smile died. “Go away. Joe. You’re not going to get lucky.”

  He walked into the room, frowning. “What’s the matter?”

  Julie sighed and leaned back in her chair. “Tasha’s been gone overnight, last seen with a man I’m nervous about. My mom is not answering her phone either, though that could just mean she’s lost it.”

  Joe sat down across from her. “Have you called the police?”

  Okay, this is what she got for giving in to the urge to confide. How the heck was she supposed to answer that question? No, I can’t call the police. The Penumbrae Guardians are taking care of it.

  “They probably require someone to be missing twenty-four hours or something before they’ll take a report, right?” Joe said, providing her with the perfect excuse.

  “Something like that,” Julie mumbled. “I have some friends out looking for her. I’m sure she’ll be all right.”

  “Have you called your ex-husband? Could she be with him?”

  “Jack is in Spain. I called him this morning. He hasn’t heard from her. He’ll call if she shows up there or calls him. She won’t, though.”

  Joe nodded. Julie was thankful he didn’t probe for more information about Jack. Tash and her dad hadn’t been close since the divorce. To be honest, they’d never been close. Jack always said he wasn’t a “kid person”—whatever that meant.

  “Who’s the guy Tasha is with?” The concern on Joe’s face comforted her.

  “He’s not a student here. He’s not even from this country.”

  Joe straightened. “He’s not a student? What’s his name?”

  “You wouldn’t know him.”

  “His name.” The words were an order.

  “Luc Deschamps. He’s from France.” Julie gave him the information slowly, amazed at the change that had come over the usually mild-mannered statistician. “Why do you want to know? Do you know him?”

  Joe stood abruptly. “No. I don’t. L
isten, I’m going to work from home today, but let me leave you my cell number. Call me if you need anything.”

  Julie nodded, bemused, and watched as he scribbled his number on her note pad. He paused at the door on his way out. “I’ll talk to you soon.”

  “Okay.”

  He left in a swish of muscled leg and squeaky running shoes. What was that all about? Julie rubbed her forehead and wished that just one person in her life would act normally. When the rain began pelting her window, she put aside her work.

  She got out her phone and tried calling every friend of Tash’s that she could remember from high school. She knew Tash had stayed in close contact with most of them. None of her friends sounded as if they thought it particularly strange that Tash would be out all night and not home yet. “She’s probably sleeping at a friend’s, Mrs. Dancer, or her phone needs charging. I’m always forgetting to charge my phone,” one of Tash’s friends assured her.

  Julie even went to Tash’s Facebook page, though she knew her daughter rarely used it. Then she got in her car and drove around campus and town.

  “Why are you eating directly out of a carton of chocolate ice cream?”

  Julie took her spoon out of her mouth as Harry walked into the kitchen the next morning. “Because I’ve finished off Bas’s cookies. What did you find out from Marguerite?”

  “Nothing, but the Guardians have determined that Tasha and Luc were in Chicago with your mother.”

  “Chicago? Why? How do they know that?”

  “Powerful Sensitives.” Harry walked up to her, took the carton out of her hands and put it on the kitchen table. She let him, her mind busy with trying to figure out why Tash was in Chicago. “Is she still there? Can those Sensitives find her?”

  “I’ll tell you everything in a moment.” Harry pulled her into his arms and Julie felt some of the tenseness drain from her muscles. Her ear rested over the steady beat of his heart, and she breathed deeply, the scent of him filling her.

  “I’m going to smear chocolate on your white shirt.”

  “I don’t care.”

  The phone rang, and Julie jumped back out of his arms and grabbed it from the table beside her. Since Tash had disappeared, she was never without it.