I remember the image in the book Joss showed me and again reject the idea. Apart from the logistics, the idea of time between squabbling siblings doesn't conjure up particularly sexy images.
"Vee?" asks Joss. "What are you smirking about?"
"Nothing." The smirk remains as I walk into the room. A window opposite looks across a nearby field and towards the Highland backdrop, a scene that trumps the countryside around Oxfordshire.
The beams in the low ceiling are painted white to match the walls and I'm relieved to see a radiator below the window, warming the room. I sit on the edge of the wrought iron bed. Isn't this a bit overkill for a rehab facility?
"I'll have this room, I like the view." I turn to the doorway.
Only Ewan and Xander remain.
Xander rubs his face. "Don't hang around, I want to get up to the main building as soon as possible and take a look."
I sigh. Back to operating at lightning speed.
16
VEE
Xander doesn't get his wish to snoop around because when we arrive at the main building people are funnelled towards a large room, ready for a talk from the guy we're dying to meet. I've never attended a business conference, and I'm unsure of etiquette. As we enter the old building, we're shown a low table beneath an old coat of arms where lanyards and foundation brochures are placed. The same girl as before stands by the table hands us small plastic bags as we approach.
Ewan peers inside as we walk towards the room we're shepherded to. "What is this shit?"
"Pens." Joss pulls one out then rummages around inside the bag. "Hey, Xan look."
Xander refused to take his bag, and when Joss throws a soft pink ball at his head, his face sours.
"Stress ball!" laughs Joss. "I think you should have this."
"Grow up," mutters Xander and passes him, leaving the item on the floor.
A young woman nearby laughs and bends to pick it up. "Looks like he might need this."
Her long red hair and freckles match her Scottish accent. "I'm Breanna." She holds a hand out to Joss. "Nice to meet you."
I wait for Joss's charming smile, but when he takes her hand, his eyes widen.
Crap. Demon? We've only been here an hour.
He returns Breanna’s greeting, and she nods at the rest of us as she passes by. She stands out and not because of her unusual hair colour, but due to the casual jeans and heavy blue jumper amongst the business-attired delegates.
"Joss?" asks Heath.
"I think she’s a demon. In fact I’m pretty sure she is, but I also think I know her." Confusion lines Joss's face as he stares after the woman.
"As long as she isn't a past hook-up," replies Heath.
"Didn’t you hear me?” he snaps. “Demon?”
“Whoa. Touchy.”
Joss chews on his lips as he watches her go. “She probably just has one of those faces."
"What faces?" asks Ewan.
"Just... familiar." Joss shakes himself out of his thoughts.
“Odd you’d come across a demon a second time,” Seth puts in. “I thought you killed them?”
A passing man, dressed in slacks and a shirt with a yellow jumper draped over his shoulder, double takes at Seth’s words.
“Shut up,” growls Ewan.
Xander strides off. "Yeah, come on."
I exchange a look with Joss. I detected something too, but not as strongly. Breanna would be aware that shaking hands with Joss means he’d be aware what she is. Why not disguise herself?
In the large room, we sit on a row of upholstered chairs and wait for Alasdair to take his place at the lectern set up at the front. This isn't what I expected, but what did I expect? Seth spends time rooting through his bag and examining the contents. I'm becoming used to his avoidance tactics, but also I wish he'd try to involve himself more. I know the guys are intimidating, but they need to forge more trust.
When Xander announced he'd share a room with Seth, I didn't miss Seth's horrified look. The reason why is obvious—Xander's obsessed with the guy and convinced he'll run. Does he still think Seth's involved in Casey's disappearance?
A man appears and stands at the lectern. He's middle-aged, hair peppered with grey, and his eyes a slate-blue colour to match his buttoned shirt. He holds the demeanour of someone who's used to attention, and his immaculate clothes would give Seth a run for his money.
The buzz of conversation stops as he greets everybody in a faded Scottish accent. "Good afternoon, and I'd like to welcome you all to my humble home and thank you for joining me. I hope you'll learn enough about my projects to turn your generous donations into regular contributions."
He projects a warm and friendly smile across the room and elicits some laughter.
"Let me explain a little more about my recent project and plans for the estate. Some of you have already found the new accommodation, which I hope you'll find very comfortable. Some of the staff who’ll be working with the clients will take you for a short tour of the new facilities tomorrow and explain our program. We don't have any clients here yet, but I know there are representatives from hospitals and community services here. I hope you all find time to talk. We have some functions arranged, starting with tonight’s meet and greet, and I hope to chat with some of you there.”
The guys remain silent throughout the remainder of his speech, and I listen carefully. My lie detecting skills will be questioned by the four, especially since we already spotted one demon, and I pick up nothing but the truth. Seth makes notes on the back of the brochure we were given, whereas Heath leans forward elbows on knees, and hands beneath his chin listening as intently as me.
I sense Joss's continuing unease, as he holds the stress ball between his hands and digs his nails in. He scans the room after we sit, his gaze landing on the demon girl perched on a seat at the end in the front row.
Alasdair finishes his power point presentation with an announcement about tonight's cocktail party and another hope we'll all be able to network with each other. Some stop and chat outside as we leave the room, business professionals who could mutually benefit from networking.
Then there's us.
I hope nobody asks me what my job is; if they do, I'll ask my "partner" to explain.
Ewan stands, arms crossed as he watches the delegates pass from the room. He's attempted “casual business” clothing but can't pull the look off in the same way the others manage. Maybe it's his refusal to tame his unruly hair, or the tattoos poking out from under his black shirt. Mostly, it's his attitude—the guy looks like he wants to run rather than network.
The urge to kiss him, to take his hand and tell him not to stress pushes through, but I stop myself. We need another conversation, but each time I try, he changes the subject. Now we're sharing a room for two nights, the conversation won't be avoided much longer.
Behind me, Xander leans in to read the notice pinned to a tall metal stand, beside the black-clothed table containing the bags and business cards.
"The businesses attending are listed. Nova Pharm is one of them and a few others I recognise."
"Anybody's names?" asks Heath.