"Here is a delicious Cab you have got to try," Monroe said. He had a small glass of wine in each hand.
Rosalie took one of them with a large smile. "Thank you SO much! You are a wonderful man."
"I know," he answered with a laugh.
They collapsed on the couch together with identical sighs. A cuckoo clock began to chime, then another, and another. They sat for a few minutes just enjoying the chorus of chimes and bells and dancing wooden figurines.
"So," Monroe began after another satisfied sigh. "How's our guest?"
"Tired. A little banged up. But she'll be fine." Rosalie snugged up to Monroe's side.
"Any reason to be worried?" he said lightly.
"None that I can see."
He nodded. "Okay. Out of curiosity—"
"When she's ready for us to know who and what she is, she'll tell us," Rosalie said with finality.
He nodded again. "Okay! Okay. Just curious." He took another sip of his wine. "But you do have an idea?" Rosalie punched his shoulder playfully. "Oww!"
"Don't be so pushy!" But she smiled at him delightedly. "Of course I have an idea, and if I'm right I'm not at all surprised she's nervous. We don't need to know who and what everyone is."
"Well," Monroe said, "As long as we're sure they're not Wesenrein or Verrat or working for the Royals or anyone else otherwise interested in killing us in our sleep…"
She punched him again. "She's fine."
"Long as you're sure."
"Drink your wine. Then, you can take your exhausted wife to the bedroom…."
Renard paced his living room. He'd poured a glass of Talisker but had yet to touch it. First, he needed to think.
He played through the events of the day—yesterday, now—in his mind for the twelfth time. Or was it the thirteenth? There were several points about which he was not satisfied. Not so much with his actions—he was a police captain, after all. He would have gone to help anyone who said they were being stalked. Wouldn't he? Hmm. Perhaps not. Would he normally send a unit? That sounded much more like him. Why had he insisted on going himself? And why grab Burkhardt and Griffin, who he knew were working on the Kaulkins case? Any unit would have worked.
Well, clearly not. A normal unit would have been obliterated. Had he known that somehow? How had he known this was one of 'those' cases? Instinct? If so, his instincts were so good he was almost jealous of them.
He took a drink of the Talisker and tried to relax, think through it rationally. What was her connection to wesen?
Fairy…lights… 'Au revoir'…'wise to get closer'… wesen…glimmer…'Are you French?'…a speck on her jacket…'three different ways'…'doesn't have the mark'…'living mirror'…flash of light…'I'm fine'…'not a scratch'…'zauberbeist'…'So complicated'… a silver light…
Why had he gotten so worked up about her being followed? That was the center of his distress. Why did she have him so agitated?
'Summimasen!'… glimmer…'the sunshine is so beautiful'… turned the cup three times…'six weeks' …smile…'bigger than just Tokyo'…he laughed…'Gomen!'…each time she held the cup…'I'm a blank slate'… reading in the sunshine…'Do you go there often? I sometimes find myself there?' …made the call…'A challenge!' … 'It is a rare thing'… shimmer…'Call me, Mira'…Mira…