“Kate. Are you okay?” he asked, reaching for me.
“An aura like a forest fire,” said the old woman, staring at Jules. “You are one of them.” And then, slowly, she curtsied as if he were visiting royalty.
“What the—” Jules said, astounded.
The lady stood and held out her hand for Jules to take. “I am Gwenha?l, and this is my son, Bran.” She gestured toward the bug-eyed man, whose hand was clutching his chest as if Jules had actually wounded him.
Jules threw me a What the hell is going on? look, and cleared his throat uncomfortably.
“Is this the boy in question?” the woman asked.
“No,” I answered.
“Well,” she responded, studying Jules’s face as if trying to memorize everything she saw for future reflection. Jules raised his eyebrows and looked at me pointedly.
“We are honored to have your visit, sir,” she said finally, and then turned to me. “As we are to have yours, dear Kate. Give me a week and then come back. That will give me time to go through all my ancestors’ texts. Maybe I will have some information that can help you.”
“Merci, Madame . . .”
“Just Gwenha?l,” she responded, and patted my hand. “I will see you in a week.”
Keeping a careful distance from Jules, Bran handed me a card with only a telephone number printed on it. “You can call before you come. Save you a trip. Good-bye,” he said, giving us a quick bow and then staring at us with his huge, reflected eyes as we stepped out of the store and into the street.
We had barely taken three steps before Jules turned to me. “Do you plan on telling me what that was about?”
“No,” I responded stubbornly.
“Then you plan on telling Vincent about it?”
“At some point, yes.”
Jules shook his head. “You were in there for twenty-five minutes. You could have at least waved from the window to let me know you were okay.” He looked angry, but I could tell it was because he had been worried sick.
“I’m sorry,” I said, meaning it.
We got into the car, and Jules pulled out of the parking lot and headed south. After fifteen minutes of silence, he spoke. “Kate, you have to tell me what you were doing back there with that crazy old lady and Raven-boy.”
“Raven-boy?”
“Bran. It’s a Breton name that means ‘raven.’”
Okay.
“Kate . . . how did that woman know what I was?”
“She’s a guérisseur whose family has links to the revenants.”
He paused, absorbing that information. “And you were there because . . .”
“I’m trying to find a way to help Vincent. So that he doesn’t have to finish this stupid experiment he’s doing at the moment. Whatever it is looks like it’s hurting him, not helping him.”
This seemed to defuse his tenseness, and his voice became softer. Understanding. “Honestly, Kate, I don’t even know what to say. I don’t think that you realize what you’re getting yourself into by exploring our world like this . . . by yourself. Those people could have been dangerous. They could still be dangerous. Everything having to do with revenants is. Because everything that has to do with us also includes the numa. Those people could have ties with our enemies.”
“They don’t, Jules. I’m sure of it. Gwenha?l even mentioned that her family had had a problem with numa hundreds of years ago.”
“WHAT? You see, Kate?” Jules yelled, banging his hand on the steering wheel.
“They aren’t aligned with the numa, Jules. They’re on your side. The revenants’ side. Our side. And I was never in danger.”
“And how do you know that from a twenty-minute chat?” Jules asked, his words short and clipped.
“I just know.”
“If the numa knew where this family of guérisseurs was hundreds of years ago, they might still know where they are now,” he said softly, almost to himself. He glanced at me, and then turned his gaze back to the road.
“Kate,” he said, weighing his words. “I care about you. You don’t even know how—” He cut himself off before he could finish and placed his hand on mine. I felt its warmth for one long second before he squeezed tenderly and moved it back to the steering wheel. “And what you’re doing right now scares the hell out of me. Swear that you will not put yourself into a dangerous position like that again. Not by yourself. Not without warning one of us what you’re doing.”
“I swear,” I said.
“I’m not sure if I believe you, but I’ve said my piece.” He glanced over at me and then back at the road, gritting his teeth. “So, Kate. You think of me as a friend, right?”
I nodded, wondering what in the world could be coming next.
“Then why did you involve me in something like this? Vincent is the person I am closest to in this world. When he finds out I took you to that place, behind his back, he is going to go ballistic. And he won’t be mad at you. He’ll be mad at me.”
“You’re not going to tell him?” I gasped.