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Thinking about my question, he shook his head.

No,he admitted, annoyed.

But the male human had finished pretending to think. Settling back on the couch cushions, he widened his smile as he took another drink of the wine.

“I am thinking we call ourselves D’aureville, pet. No one will question us about our family connections if they think us French––”

“Unless theyareFrench,” she pointed out.

He waved this off, his voice expansive with wine and sex.

“No, no. We will make certain we are quite invisible, my dear.” Tugging on one of her auburn curls, he added, “I will be Denis.” He tugged her hair harder. “You will be Virginie.”

She laughed. “You do have a wicked humor, my love.”

“You do not approve?”

“I do approve. It is perfect.”

“Good. Then when I transfer the deed of this place over to our new name, it will be official. Before that, however, I must find Will. He can help me create identity papers that make it all appear legit. I will start on this tomorrow. I have contacts here who can help with the bank transfers, and to bring the gold up from the islands.”

“Can you trust them?” she asked wryly.

He shrugged. “I will bring you with me, my darling. Anyone is trustworthy for the right price. But we will go together to collect the gold.”

“And what about tomorrow, my sweet?” she asked coyly. “While you run around town creating Virginie and Denis D’aureville? Should I begin to introduce myself as Virginie, as well?” Her smile widened as she handed back the pewter stein. “To all the fine ladies I meet in town, out buying their lovely dresses, who shall I be?”

He smiled back, nudging her with his silk-stockinged toe.

“Virginie, of course. Who else would you be, my love? Use the new name to any who ask. I would like us to establish ourselves here as soon as possible.”

His voice began slowly to fade.

It made me think of an old-fashioned radio knob being turned down, complete with a strange form of static as their forms flickered in and out.

They began to dissipate like smoke.

Until finally, like a last kill switch was hit, the images of both of them, their words, their facial expressions…

…abruptly vanished.

12

MORONS

“We were supposed to call the others,” I said, exhaling as I remembered. “Damn it. It wasourrule, Black. We were supposed to call them if we found anything. Weyelledit. Remember?”

“I remember.”

“Do we call them now? Or is it too late?”

Frustrated, I kicked the bottom of the couch, folding my arms.

“Gaos.We totally blew it,” I grumbled.

Black looked over at me from where he walked around the couch.

He didn’t answer at first, obviously thinking about my question. He never stopped examining the couch from all sides. From the way he moved and his facial expression, he wanted to look at the area around the fireplace without tripping the recording a second time.