Chapter Six
The rays of the rising sun struck the scrapes of New Orleans
very suddenly and the whole city lit up with a blinding flash. On the streets
the occasional jogger could be seen, panting like walruses. Dancing flurries
of the heaps of leaves lying all around.
The sight of it all would have gripped anyone's heart, and
the especially a Wereheart. And where Gray sat on the balcony facing the
yard, it did. Her mind sang with joy as the sun flooded over her and it was
hard to suppress a laugh. But she had to. In the room behind her, the room
they had come to call their own now, Wrath was sleeping restlessly. The thought
was like a cloud and her expression darkened.
She was filled with concern for him, but rage was boiling
underneath. Why had the idiot taken hold of the talisman?! And in front of
Gabriel!
She had been terrified when he came back, and so was he. They
had bandaged his hand with the rest of shirt to prevent more bloodloss. It
was clear that he had been in agony, and still Gray had made a hard knot,
just by sheer anger, yet he had refused to scream.
"Idiot," she murmured.
"I know," a voice said behind her. "I'm sorry."
Grays muscles had tensed in an instant but they relaxed as
she heard that it was her lover. He remained behind her and she could feel
his hand, the uninjured one, stroke her hair lovingly. Not without pride,
he spoke again.
"Your hair looks like it's afire. I love it. You have removed
the fake color."
She cursed under her breath. She had done it for him. Why did
she always do what he wanted?
"I liked it in black," she replied defiantly.
"Then color it again."
She turned and looked at him.
"Do you really mean that?"
"It's your hair." He shrugged with a smile. "I'm too bossy,
I know."
"Can you read my mind or something?" she laughed. Then she
gripped his collar and dragged him down to her level. "I love you, you big
idiot."
"It's mutual, my precious."
They shared a quick kiss, then backed away; a bit embarrassed
by the heat of their feelings. Wrath cleared his throat and looked away.
"I think we should contact Hunter." Gray whispered.
"How," he replied with an ironical smile, "he could be
anywhere."
"He's here. In New Orleans. Haven't you scented him?"
"No." Clearly unsettled, he looked at his feet. "It was so
long ago. I've forgotten..."
"Oh, come on, lovely! The last time we met him was..."
"1886. I know. But you're young; you have only lived for one
century. I'm old. Much older. And you know how
easily we old men forget," he added in a feigned creaky voice
that made Gray laugh.
They shared silence for a few minutes as they watched the sun
settle. A bird began to sing hesitantly.
"I'll contact him tonight," Wrath breathed.
Grace emerged from sleep, reaching like from underwater
to the surface of the waking mind. The smell of breakfast guided her to alertness
of the real world and she yawned.
Saturday. Best day of the week. The store would be open only
for a few hours and there weren't really many customers bothering them on
the weekend.
She jumped out of bed and threw on her deepgreen robe. Hunger
always made her work, and the smell of bacon was beckoning her down to the
kitchen. She closed the door behind her after putting on her slippers and
was just about to go downstairs when an urge to wake Gabriel twisted inside
of her.
"Oh, why bother," she said to herself. "He'll probably just
snore at me if I tried."
With that she snatched her hand back from the handle of his
door and down.
The scene in the kitchen was what she had always dreamed of.
Dishes stood on the table, ready to be filled and there were orangejuice
("sweet heaven, thank you for a miracle!") and eggs. Wrath was standing at
the stove and making pancakes as he was happily talking with Gray who was
picking maple syrup and butter out of the fridge.
Not since her childhood had she ever seen something like this,
perhaps not even then. Both being older than she, grace found Wrath and Gray
the closest thing to American parent wannabe's as possible. She chuckled
at the thought and Gray finally saw her. It was wondrous to see her face
light up like that.
"Gracie! Come on over here, sit down. Wrath'll be ready with
the pancakes any time now."
"Good morning." Grace replied, a little overwhelmed as she
was pressed down into a chair next to the window.
"'Morning," came the sleepy rumble from the chef.
"Why are you guys so early this morning?"
"It's a lovely day." Wrath said as he put a plate with food
in front of her and motioned towards the window. "Bon appetite."
And indeed it was lovely. The splendor was breathtaking even
from here.
"Where's Knight?" Gray asked between two mouthfuls.
"The king of this chateau is in bed, still snoring."
Wrath smiled and poured Gray some orangejuice.
"Too bad for him, he doesn't know what he's missing."
Grace nodded and chewed for some time before she noticed Wrath's
left hand was bundled up in white bandages. A small red stain was visible
in the palm.
"Good lord, what've you done? Let me see that."
Gray and Wrath exchanged a quick glance.
"I burned myself rather badly while heating the stove," he
lied. "But it's all right now."
Grace frowned but let go of his hand. They ate under silence
and you could hear several birds chirping outside before Wrath spoke again.
"I think I'd better go wake Gabe. We all know how frustrating
he can be if he doesn't get any breakfast."
He gave the two a flashing smile, put some food on a tray and
went upstairs. The women were silent for a while longer.
"I always wondered, Gray," Grace said suddenly, breaking the
tension, "why you're not worried when Wrath leaves on his trips. You seem
cool an iceberg. You're not afraid he'll betray you or something?"
"Why should I?" Gray smiled. "We made a promise that we'd never
do. It was a very long time ago, but it'll hold."
"You really trust him?"
"Why shouldn't I? Don't you trust Gabe?"
"Not a bit."
"Why?"
"Because I know how his mind works."
"Are you really sure about that? He might have changed you
know."
"Gabriel? Change? Oh, come on!"
They laughed the way only two good friends can do and began
washing up.