Greg hesitated, reluctant to give his home address. Just as he was about to give his office address, he realized his briefcase and his coat with his keys in the pocket were still in Lissianna's room. He'd had them with him last night and hadn't thought to grab them on the way out. There was no way he was risking going back for them, though. With his luck, Marguerite would catch them and stop his leaving.
In the end, Greg reluctantly gave his apartment address. At least there, the doorman could let him into the building and call the superintendent to bring him a spare set of keys. Besides, it was a security building. It wasn't like they could just walk in and drag him out if they later changed their minds.
The trip seemed long to Greg. He suspected he wasn't the only one who felt that way. While the twins chattered nonstop, obviously finding the entire episode a grand adventure, the adults were, for the most part, silent. At least, until they reached the city proper. Then he heard Elspeth whisper Lissianna's name. The very fact that she was whispering, made him subconsciously strain to hear what she said.
"Lissi? I'm getting these waves of anger from Greg. Did something happen while we were all down getting changed?"
"Anger?" Lissianna sounded concerned. "Are you sure?"
Oh yeah, it's anger, Greg thought sarcastically, then frowned over the fact that Elspeth had sensed it. He really had to watch himself around these people. He already believed Marguerite had strong psychic abilities. Why shouldn't the others be capable of it?
"He's been quiet since he went to the bathroom." Lissianna's solemn voice drew him back to the conversation taking place behind him. "But I just thought he was nervous about getting out of the house without Mom stopping us."
"Oh. Well, maybe that's all it is." Elspeth sounded doubtful.
"Do you want me to read him for you?" came Mirabeau's quiet voice.
"What? Lissianna, you haven't read him?" There was no mistaking that half whisper, half squeal as coming from anyone but one of the twins. He thought it was probably Juli since she seemed always to be the first of the pair to speak.
"She couldn't read him, remember?" Jeanne Louise joined the conversation. "It's why she bit him."
Juli heaved a sigh. "I wish we could 'feed off the hoof,' too. Just once, at least, to see what it's like. It sounds much nicer than bagged blood."
"You will," Elspeth said. "Mom's taking you out when you're eighteen."
"Yeah, yeah." Juli sighed impatiently. "So we'll know how to feed naturally should an emergency ever arise where we only have that recourse."
She spoke the words by rote, as if having heard them a thousand times before. Greg noted absently, but his brain was trying to make sense of what they were saying. He didn't have a clue what they were talking about. Lissianna hadn't bitten him; a small nip maybe, but mostly she'd sucked on his neck and probably given him a huge hickey. Speaking of which, he wished he'd checked it while he'd been in the bathroom, but his thoughts had been so scattered by the knowledge that the dreaded phobia was nothing more than hemaphobia that he hadn't even thought of it.
"But what if we have an emergency before we turn eighteen?" Vicki asked.
"You'll just have to hope you don't have one until after your eighteenth birthday," Elspeth said shortly.
"This is so not fair." Juli sounded sulky. "You guys got to feed 'off the hoof when you were way younger than we are."
"Juli, there was no other way to feed then," Jeanne Louise said patiently.
"Do you want me to read him for you and see if there's any problem?" Greg was positive that was Mirabeau speaking. Her words brought an immediate end to Juli's complaints. In fact, it seemed to end all conversation. Greg found himself holding his breath during the silence that followed, and wondered if he could somehow block the woman from reading his thoughts. Maybe if he made his mind blank? Or if he—
"Here we are!" That cheerful announcement made Greg glance around. Thomas was squinting out the window as he pulled the van to a stop. Not that he should have had to squint, the van windows were all treated with some blackening agent. It was like the vehicle itself wore sunglasses, and yet Thomas still seemed bothered by the light filtering through the screen.
Greg peered out the window at his high-rise apartment building. After the briefest