Bannockburn Binding (Beloved Bloody Time) by Tracy Cooper-Posey Page B

Charbonneau suspected the man’s laugh would be as large as his smile and his appetites—all of them—to be as grand. Charbonneau liked him on the spot.
    “You can check if you want, but my family history is one long lie,” Charbonneau told him.
    “Ah, the family-line model.” Christos nodded. “It’s always interesting investigating the ways we’ve found to pass amongst humans. The family-line is one of the most popular, next to the itinerant traveller.” Christos waved around the large room they were in. “What we really want, though, is your memories. That’s the real gold, for us.”
    They were in a very large room, filled with digital equipment on desks, many of the desks with people working at them. One wall was transparent, showing the still breath-taking view of Earth with its dark-side up. Africa, with the mysterious middle almost completely black, was the feature of the hour. The corner of the room was divided off with clear partitions, to form an office. Christos’s office, Charbonneau assumed, as Christos was head of security.
    The wall opposite the view of Earth was covered from one end to the other with a board that carried horizontal and vertical lines, with a list of names on the right. Travellers, Charbonneau assumed, and their current positions in history.
    Justin returned, a pixie-like woman with him. The woman looked to be barely out of childhood, with coffee-cream skin, a mane of wild black hair that had been treated to shine different colours depending on how she moved in the light. Her eyes were enormous, innocent jewels of blue. Her hair and eyes were the most substantial thing about her and overpowered her petite and fragile frame.
    She seemed to bounce right up to Charbonneau, crackling with energy. “Monsieur Villeneuve! Ooooh, but you are such a pretty one! Just like they said!” She walked right around him, inspecting him. She made a sighing sound. “Too much for my little body to bear. Vous serez la mienne ce soir, oui ?” She smiled up at him, her chin dipped coyly, the big eyes staring at him.
    “Pritti, give the man chance to draw breath before you proposition him,” Brenden growled.
    “This is Pritti,” Justin explained. “She—” and he stopped with his hand in mid-air, clearly looking for a way to explain Pritti.
    She slapped gently at Justin’s arm. “You didn’t introduce me properly!” she accused in her child-like voice. She spun on her toe to face Charbonneau again. “My name—my real name—is Volume 89345, File P3445.” She thrust out her hand in the old-fashioned way. “I’m so pleased to make your acquaintance, Constant Charbonneau Villeneuve, the Fourth.”
    He found himself shaking her tiny hand in a knee-jerk response left over from centuries before. “You’re….” He, like Justin, couldn’t finish the sentence.
    “I’m a Psi-File,” she said, in her high voice, and smiled at him. “Want to withdraw your hand now, Monsieur?” Then, before he could respond, she let go of his hand and spun on her feet again. “Oh, a demonstration! Please, please?”
    Christos rolled his eyes. He seemed to be used to Pritti’s swift changes of direction.
    Justin scratched his head. “Well, I dunno…we’re supposed to be seeing to yer training, mate. A demo wouldn’t be out of place.”
    Pritti put her hands together and gave a little squeal. “Oooh, goody!” She bounced on the spot and turned to face Charbonneau.
    “Before he meets Ryan or Nayara?” Christos asked.
    “What’s he got in his pocketses, yes, hmm?” Pritti asked, sliding up against Charbonneau and looking up at him with her wide eyes.
    “Something important to you,” Justin added. “Something that you know is there. Touch it. You can even curl your hand around it, if you want. And tell us what it is.”
    “A watch,” Charbonneau said. “It’s been in the family for generations.” He saw a fleeting expression cross Christos’s face and added, “I suppose I should say