Out of Mind

think Gray’s worried she’ll try to do something about the people who are missing now. It’s dangerous—she could die if she can’t get back to her body.”

Ben put an arm around her shoulders. “I don’t blame Gray for being nervous.”

“Particularly now,” Willow said. “She shouldn’t travel with the baby.”

He stood still. “Marley and Gray are having a baby? I didn’t know that.”

She gave a frustrated puff. “You make me too comfortable. I tell you things I shouldn’t. I don’t think they know it yet, either. It’s only been a couple of weeks. We shouldn’t say anything, okay?”

“Okay, Miss Normal. You get more interesting all the time.”

She shrugged. “I just know these things, is all. It’s to do with emotions. Marley’s are all over the place at the moment, but even more gentle than usual. There’s something different there.”

“But it doesn’t have to be a baby,” he pointed out.

“Yes, it does,” she said, and closed her mouth firmly.

“I’ll take your word for it.” He squeezed her tightly and kissed her temple.

“What?” she said. “What did I do to deserve that?”

“Nothing and everything. I just had a pleasant thought, but don’t try and get it out of me. You need to start concentrating.”

“Do you want children, Ben?” she said, her voice very quiet.

“Maybe.” He carried on, leading her deeper into the courtyard. Whispering in her ear again, he said, “Our children.” And the difficult thing for him to cope with was that he did want their children. He’d always been the lone one, the single actor with a single mind, but now Willow was his other half, almost the beat of his heart, and he longed for their official Bonding—and even the official ceremony they would go through.

Marley and Gray had a real wedding, too. Gray’s dad, Gus, was blamed for that by Gray who insisted it was only to please his old man, but Ben had heard all about the excitement over the event.

He took Mario from Willow. The dog struggled and he put him down. Immediately, the animal scuffled off into the closest undergrowth.

Willow went to the fountain and stood in the light spray beating up. “Do you wish it would rain—really hard? I do.” She raised her face to the sky. “Everything’s so tense. I just want it to break loose.”

“I know what you mean.”

“Please go on up. I need to concentrate.”

He understood how she felt, but he wasn’t leaving her here alone. “I’ll go keep an eye on Mario. Then I want to check the locks on the shop doors.”

Fortunately, Willow was already thinking of other things or the pathetic excuses wouldn’t have flown with her.

Ben knew where to find Mario. He sat among the bamboo that hid his favorite stone griffon. Actually leaning against the statue, the dog looked up at Ben as if he was trying to telegraph some wisdom.

Ben crouched to scratch rough, red fur, but he listened hard for any sound from Willow. He couldn’t see her from here. He stood and crept far enough through the bamboo to part the canes and peer out.

She wasn’t by the fountain.

Panicked, he stepped out and started forward. Willow stood beside what must once have been the doorway to a storeroom. Concreted shut, Ben never remembered it any other way.

With her face pointed skyward again, her arms were outstretched. When he crept closer behind her, he heard her say, “Can you hear me?” and he kept still.

Willow’s eyes closed. She listened to air rushing and touched her face. A warm current blew on her skin. The heavy scent of flowers and rich earth settled around her. A tropical place. That’s where she was—not the courtyard with its flashes and the rumblings of a storm—but a tropical garden.

“Fabio?” she said. “Chris? Are you there?”

He hadn’t heard her when she saw him before. Once more she was looking at glass, thick and wavy, shiny on the outside, but difficult to see through. She concentrated hard.

Not sand, but pink granules rose several inches inside a bottle.

“You gotta stay with me, man.”

Willow’s eyes opened. That was Chris’s voice again, but this time she didn’t see him. The bottle wasn’t his.

“Fabio—this is gonna get worse. They’re planning something—they gotta be.”

“Leave me alone.”

This time she recognized Fabio’s voice, then she saw the pink granules churn, and a tiny, almost transparent creature emerged. It pushed to the top of the grains and seemed to flop out flat.

“Fabio,” she said. “It’s me, Willow. Tell me where you are.”

“It’s got to happen soon, man,” Chris said. “I don’t even know how many of us there are. I sleep and when I wake up, there’s someone else. They’re gathering us all up, I tell you. They’re clearing N’awlins. They’re taking over.”

“That’s fucking ridiculous,” Fabio said. “I had this sex. It was, it was —”

“Frickin’ amazing? Yeah, I know. That’s how they’re getting their victims.”

“So why don’t they just kill us?” Fabio said.

“I told you. They want us for something, and we’re not goin’ to like it.”

“So how do we get out?”

“That’s the rub,” Chris said. “Even if we make it to the top of these bottles, we can’t just break out. I heard two of them talking. We’re dehydrated. Dried like pieces of fruit leather. But if we let air in we start going back to normal size. If our hands are outside the bottle necks hanging on, they’ll swell till they’re so big they break the glass. We could lose our hands. Put our heads out and—”

“I get the picture,” Fabio said fast. “So what do we do? Lie down and wait to die?”

“We’ve got to come up with a plan, but timing will be everything. We all gotta do the thing together. So far I can’t get the rest of them to shut up long enough to make sure they’re with us.”

“What if they’re not? Or they’re too scared?”

Chris made a frustrated noise. “Caroline’s in. The three of us will go it alone—I think we’ve got some time. I think they’ll be bringing bunches more of us before anything changes.”

“Chris,” Willow cried, “Fabio. Please. Where are you?”

The bottles shivered. Water sprayed them and ran down in rivulets. The scent of flowers grew heavier. She could distinguish gardenias, then jasmine.

First the vision disappeared. The floral scents lingered. She dropped her arms and stepped backward. Rain started to fall, and she welcomed it on her hot face and body. Her own tears joined the rain, and she couldn’t hold back her sobs.

“It’s okay,” Ben said, holding her. His touch was gentle.

“It’s not okay.” She turned in his arms. “Ben, you and Nat, Sykes and everyone, you’re right. New Orleans is being attacked.”

Chapter 33

Throughout the hectic day of preparing for the Brandt event, Willow had felt herself waiting. She had no rational idea of what she expected, but whether it happened tonight or at some other time very soon, the hidden enemy would burst into the open, and the idea of what that could mean terrified her.

Now the bizarre celebration of Chloe Brandt’s life had begun.

Minstrels wearing rich green-and-gold-striped tunics and bloomers, their legs encased in green tights, wandered through the grounds of the Brandt house. Full face masks hid their identities. Tassels on green velvet caps swung as they bent over their instruments, strumming medieval sounds. And fantastically costumed guests