Out of Mind

times.”

“But—”

“We’ve got to sleep, my love. I don’t want to, but I’m not sure we’ll be able to move for hours as it is.” He hugged her, tipped up her chin and kissed her, ran his tongue over the soft insides of her cheeks, along the tender flesh just beyond her lips.

“I feel safe here with you,” she said.

“You are,” he told her. “I’m not sure we should leave at all.”

She smiled against his shoulder. “How long do you think it would be before they found us withered away to nothing?”

He shrugged. “At least a couple of wonderful days—Sheesh, what’s that?”

Something cool settled on her back. Ben lifted it away and she rolled over to see.

A page, but not simply of paper the way Willow thought of it. Parchment curling slightly at the edges and discolored. With her head on his shoulder, Ben used both hands to hold it as flat as he could.

“It’s her,” Willow said, staring at another drawing of her angel. “Look. What’s that?”

Ben lifted his head to see more clearly.

Pale mauve haze formed in the air around them. Gradually it seemed to run down, like watercolor on thin glass. The color turned to purple.

Willow’s memory clicked into full gear, and she hauled a coverlet over both of them, huddled even closer to Ben. She wasn’t dressed for a visitation.

“The edge of something round and gold,” he said. “Do you think she’s reaching for it?”

She squinted. The angel’s lips were curved in an exquisite smile. “Yes. And something must be holding it up. Two red nails or claws.”

“That’s what it looks like,” he said. “I wish we could see more of it.”

Willow sighed. “It’s just another drawing. The others haven’t helped.”

“I won’t take up much of your time,” a deep, male voice said. “It is for you to put the pieces together. What of the curse? What do they say about it?”

Ben’s hand had closed on her shoulder. “Jude?” he said.

“We’re not sure what the curse is,” Willow said. “My parents are trying to find out about it.”

The sound the other one made was a clear and derisive snort.

“Can’t you tell us?” Willow said.

“Against the rules. You must sort out the truth from the fabrication and foolishness. Only then will you be strong. In the meantime, keep up the search. Remember what you see in this drawing. How beautiful she is, our Angelus. Beautiful and good. Be patient. The Millets have waited a long time to find the truth and they may have to wait a great deal longer. We shall see.”

Willow put her chin forward to study the picture.

Purple thinned to a luminous green, and disappeared. With it, it was as if the parchment had never been in Ben’s hands.

She looked at him, but he guided her face into the hollow of his neck and put both arms around her again. “I wonder how long his ‘long times’ are,” he said and shoved himself to sit up, so abruptly, Willow looked all around the room, expecting something awful.

“Oh,” Ben said, relaxing. “I could see his eyes looking at us, but it’s too dark in that corner. Come on out, Mario, you voyeur. Did you know you’d acquired a voyeur?” he asked Willow.

Mario sat in that shadowy corner. He dropped to lie down and closed his eyes.

Ben and Willow laughed.

“I didn’t realize you’d brought him with you,” Ben said. “He behaves as if he understands every word we say.”

“He’s just precocious,” Willow said. “I didn’t bring him. Sykes must have. He’s done it before when he figured I needed all the comfort I could get.”

Ben made a face, and Willow kissed him until he flopped onto his back.

“You’re all the comfort I need,” she told him.

“Thank you.” He popped up to kiss her nose. “That’s what I wanted to hear.”

They both heard a small metallic sound and leaned over to see Mario. On the floor in front of him was another gold key. Sykes had spoken to Ben before Willow left the Brandts and admitted to finding one himself, making three with this one.

Chapter 32

Ben winced and sucked in a breath. As carefully as he pulled shut the gate leading to the Court of Angels, it still squeaked. In the quiet of early, early morning, the noise sounded like a small explosion.

They had given up on waiting to get back to the Court of Angels. Tired as they were, neither of them could sleep, and Willow insisted she had to see if she could find out what happened to Fabio.

The next sound Ben recognized was Willow’s giggling, and he caught her—and Mario—in a bear hug. “Quiet,” he whispered. “We don’t want anyone to wake up.”

“Me be quiet?” she whispered back and pressed her face into his chest.

“You’re hysterical,” he muttered, and gave a muted “Oof” when she poked his ribs.

Lightning flashed repeatedly, and thunder rumbled before the light show faded. In seconds, the sky lit up again.

The phone in his pocket vibrated. “That’ll be Sykes, so be really quiet or we’ll have him down here with us,” he said, and answered. “You got my message?”

He listened while Sykes, sounding a bit miffed, told him he still had the two keys they had found earlier. Ben and Willow had wondered if Mario somehow lifted one of them from Sykes and carried it in his mouth. Ridiculous as it seemed, it had been a possibility.

“Okay,” Ben said. “And now there are three. Any more ideas about them?”

“Several,” Sykes said. “You want to talk about it now?”

Ben considered the best way out. “It’s too late now. Long day coming up.”

Sykes cleared his throat. “Are you and Willow—Are you getting close again? I mean, really close.”

“Is that any of your business?” Ben smiled, though.

“Could be,” Sykes said. “If it has to be.”

Ben figured he’d wait to ask for a full explanation of what that meant. “We’re fine,” he said. “Great. Goodbye,” Ben said and hung up and gave Willow a long kiss.

“What was that for?” she said when she could.

He breathed in the scent of her. “Let’s do whatever we can out here and get up to your place…to sleep.”

“Sure.” Still carrying Mario, she held Ben’s hand and led him, walking as quietly as they could, into the courtyard. It was fortunate that the bedrooms were at the back of the flats.

“See how it glows?” Ben said in her ear. A luminous shimmer emanated from statue after statue, casting a frothy silver-green into the shrubs.

“No,” Willow said. She flinched at more lightning. “Now that glows.”

“Very clever.” He frowned and looked around. “Okay. I don’t know why I’m singled out for all the attention here, but I’ll take it. The inmates are muttering. They sound like water bubbling.” He paused, listening. “They are agitated and excited—and they’re welcoming us.”

“Okay.” Willow didn’t sound convinced. “If you say so.”

“Hey, aren’t you the one who came here and saw Chris in a bottle? How weird is that?”

She leaned on him. “Less weird all the time. I did see colors, but like watercolors. We can’t look for angel clues in the dark, but I can see if I can reach Fabio somehow.”

“Sykes told me Marley hears voices.”

“She does,” Willow said. “When she travels they guide her, but she hasn’t traveled since the Embran attack. I