moment he performed a locator spell on her from Paris. There’d
been no way to know which of the two Grays would appear on the
water’s surface. The results had been fifty/fifty, though in his
head he’d pictured Gray in her true form—not the body the other
Graylee Perez had hijacked back in Washington.
That Gray, the one who called herself Stacey
Lee Morehouse, had never seemed authentic to Adrian. He wondered
how Raj could have chosen her.
A body transfer changed a person. There was
always a little something left over from the previous inhabitant.
For all he knew, only a few scattered memories and a name remained
of Adrian Montez. Who was to say the rest wasn’t Tommy Hughes?
But that was like saying part of Gray was her
twin sister.
Charlene had come to Adrian in his shop
before her sad little sidekick purged Gray from her body. She was
evil and scheming, a role Adrian relished for his own. Charlene’s
first mistake had been trying to manipulate Adrian with what she
considered her feminine charms. She’d gone as far as to offer a
sample in the form of a kiss.
Graylee Perez had been the smarter of the
two—offering Adrian his powers back. And Adrian, fool that he was,
wanted the sister who didn’t want him.
Adrian stalked past groups of young adults
laughing and speaking in tongues. He turned down an enclosed street
that narrowed and curved the further he walked as though winding
him around a finger.
He did not pause in front of the iron gates,
but walked through as though he’d been there a hundred times
before.
Two young women passed Adrian in the
courtyard.
“Hi,” Adrian said.
“Hi,” they echoed.
Adrian looked each girl directly in the eye.
They smiled and looked away quickly.
The small courtyard led into a communal area.
Adrian looked around, his eyes landing on a tiny desk and the woman
behind it. She watched him with a frown as tight as her ponytail.
Adrian walked up to her with a smirk on his lips. “ Buenos
noches .”
It was a good thing the woman had an
unblemished face because every hair on her head had been pulled
back into a clip at the nape of her neck exposing every inch of her
skin.
The woman didn’t look at the flowers, only
Adrian.
“These are for Graylee Perez,” Adrian said,
but still she did not look at the bouquet. What he wanted was for
the woman to take the flowers and see that they got to Gray.
She made no move to grab them. Adrian’s jaw
tensed, and his smile began to thin.
“Now I see,” the woman finally said.
She could see whatever she wanted. Adrian
smirked again to show her what he thought about that.
But she wasn’t finished speaking. “. . . why
S eñorita Perez has gone.”
“Gone?” Adrian asked. He lowered the bouquet.
“She left?”
The Spanish woman leaned forward.
“S eñorita Perez has taken her things and
gone.”
Of course she’d gone away. Why was Adrian so
surprised?
A stem snapped as he squeezed the flowers.
Suddenly, he felt like a fool while the whole world looked upon his
folly. Yet there was only one woman assessing him with her pinched
face. But that was one too many.
Adrian laughed suddenly. It erupted throaty
and ruthless from his lips. He set the roses on top of the Spanish
woman’s desk and leaned toward her. “I love it when she runs,” he
said and winked. “It does no good, though. I always find her.”
Satisfied that it was now the Spanish woman
who looked uneasy, Adrian turned on his heel, leaving the flowers
behind as he wound his way back out to the main street.
CHAPTER TWELVE
The hostel’s guest kitchen was in use when Gray
walked in with her can of lentil soup, bread roll, and salad. By
Spanish standards she was early. It was only eight thirty, but then
again it wasn’t Spaniards she bunked with.
There were plenty of other guests preparing
food—real food. Gray emptied her canned soup into a saucepan beside
a skillet sizzling with onions and green peppers.
Tables were filling fast
been no way to know which of the two Grays would appear on the
water’s surface. The results had been fifty/fifty, though in his
head he’d pictured Gray in her true form—not the body the other
Graylee Perez had hijacked back in Washington.
That Gray, the one who called herself Stacey
Lee Morehouse, had never seemed authentic to Adrian. He wondered
how Raj could have chosen her.
A body transfer changed a person. There was
always a little something left over from the previous inhabitant.
For all he knew, only a few scattered memories and a name remained
of Adrian Montez. Who was to say the rest wasn’t Tommy Hughes?
But that was like saying part of Gray was her
twin sister.
Charlene had come to Adrian in his shop
before her sad little sidekick purged Gray from her body. She was
evil and scheming, a role Adrian relished for his own. Charlene’s
first mistake had been trying to manipulate Adrian with what she
considered her feminine charms. She’d gone as far as to offer a
sample in the form of a kiss.
Graylee Perez had been the smarter of the
two—offering Adrian his powers back. And Adrian, fool that he was,
wanted the sister who didn’t want him.
Adrian stalked past groups of young adults
laughing and speaking in tongues. He turned down an enclosed street
that narrowed and curved the further he walked as though winding
him around a finger.
He did not pause in front of the iron gates,
but walked through as though he’d been there a hundred times
before.
Two young women passed Adrian in the
courtyard.
“Hi,” Adrian said.
“Hi,” they echoed.
Adrian looked each girl directly in the eye.
They smiled and looked away quickly.
The small courtyard led into a communal area.
Adrian looked around, his eyes landing on a tiny desk and the woman
behind it. She watched him with a frown as tight as her ponytail.
Adrian walked up to her with a smirk on his lips. “ Buenos
noches .”
It was a good thing the woman had an
unblemished face because every hair on her head had been pulled
back into a clip at the nape of her neck exposing every inch of her
skin.
The woman didn’t look at the flowers, only
Adrian.
“These are for Graylee Perez,” Adrian said,
but still she did not look at the bouquet. What he wanted was for
the woman to take the flowers and see that they got to Gray.
She made no move to grab them. Adrian’s jaw
tensed, and his smile began to thin.
“Now I see,” the woman finally said.
She could see whatever she wanted. Adrian
smirked again to show her what he thought about that.
But she wasn’t finished speaking. “. . . why
S eñorita Perez has gone.”
“Gone?” Adrian asked. He lowered the bouquet.
“She left?”
The Spanish woman leaned forward.
“S eñorita Perez has taken her things and
gone.”
Of course she’d gone away. Why was Adrian so
surprised?
A stem snapped as he squeezed the flowers.
Suddenly, he felt like a fool while the whole world looked upon his
folly. Yet there was only one woman assessing him with her pinched
face. But that was one too many.
Adrian laughed suddenly. It erupted throaty
and ruthless from his lips. He set the roses on top of the Spanish
woman’s desk and leaned toward her. “I love it when she runs,” he
said and winked. “It does no good, though. I always find her.”
Satisfied that it was now the Spanish woman
who looked uneasy, Adrian turned on his heel, leaving the flowers
behind as he wound his way back out to the main street.
CHAPTER TWELVE
The hostel’s guest kitchen was in use when Gray
walked in with her can of lentil soup, bread roll, and salad. By
Spanish standards she was early. It was only eight thirty, but then
again it wasn’t Spaniards she bunked with.
There were plenty of other guests preparing
food—real food. Gray emptied her canned soup into a saucepan beside
a skillet sizzling with onions and green peppers.
Tables were filling fast
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