Kiss the Night Good-Bye(31)

 

Recognition would be there, even if it was buried deep. And come hell or high water, she was going to bring that recognition to the surface as soon as she could.

 

"There's one thing that's got me puzzled," she added, glancing at Camille as she adjusted the straps. "If Weylin needs to follow what happened a century ago for this ceremony of his, how come everyone in town is wandering around in reasonably modern clothing?" Or at least, the men were. The one woman she'd seen had been wearing an outfit that looked as if it belonged in a bordello. She'd been mighty glad to have been allowed a skirt and shirt once she'd seen that outfit.

 

"Except for Hartwell itself, it is the events that are important rather than the environment." Camille held out her hand. "Better give me that ring."

 

Nikki glanced down at her engagement ring. Somehow, the act of taking it off felt like a betrayal, yet she could hardly wear it when doing so might give away who she really was. She tugged it off and placed it in the old witch's palm. God, her hand felt naked without it. "I'll be back for that in four days."

 

"Make sure that you are." The ring disappeared and a cell phone took its place. "Slip this inside your skirt. Your bags will probably be searched the first day, so keep the phone on you until after that happens."

 

"Will the phone work in there?"

 

"I don't see why not. Weylin couldn't afford to completely cut off the town, or he'd have people out here investigating."

 

She nodded and slipped the phone into her skirt pocket. Jake lifted the second pack, then pulled Nikki forward and hugged her fiercely. "Take care in there."

 

"I will." She hugged him back just as fiercely, all too aware that if things went wrong in Hartwell, she might not see him again. After a while, she pulled back and added, "Not that any of you can do anything if things should go haywire."

 

"He won't kill you or Michael," Camille commented. "He needs you both alive for the ceremony."

 

" If he is trying to raise his brother. You have no real proof that's his goal." "Seline says it is, and that's good enough for me." Camille grabbed Nikki's hand, her fingers like cold parchment against Nikki's skin.

 

"Here," she added, placing something cool and metallic into Nikki's hand. "Take this. We found it in the van."

 

Nikki's mouth went dry. It was the silver cross she had given Michael when they'd first met.

 

"It may help jog his memory—if you can get him to wear it." Not trusting herself to speak, Nikki nodded. She wrapped her fingers around the chain and felt the tingle of energy run up her arm. The images from the cross came through muted, as if viewed from a distance and distorted by layers of dusty glass.

 

But she could feel him. Feel his anger. His despair. Seline was right. Deep inside, he thought her dead, and the agony of it was tearing him apart.