concern on her face. Now she'd think he was some pitifully weak guy who couldn't handle a little walking.
"If you like." She frowned. "You really aren't feel¬ing well, are you?"
"No, I just--" He sighed. "I forgot about the sun. I have a bit of an allergy to it."
"Oh!" She looked relieved. "Well, why didn't you just say so?"
"I forgot," Bastien said. Then he realized how stu¬pid that sounded. He'd hardly forget he was allergic to the sun. Then inspiration struck, and he added, "It's not really a regular thing for me. I'm just on some medication that makes me photosensitive."
"Oh." Something flickered in Terri's expression before her gaze slid over him with concern. "My husband was on medication that did that to him."
"It's nothing serious," Bastien assured her. "But the medication does make me react to sunlight, and I didn't think of that until I got out here and-- What are you doing?" he interrupted himself to ask as she pulled him from the shade and started to drag him along the street.
"We're getting you out of the sun. You should have said you had an allergy. I'd have understood." Pausing on the corner, she glanced at the through traffic, spotted an approaching taxi, and stepped off the curb. Waving one hand like a pro, as if she'd lived in New York all her life, Terri stepped back up onto the curb as the taxi put its blinker on to pull over and slid to a stop in front of them.
"Where to?" the driver asked once they were in.
Terri glanced at Bastien. "I don't know your ad¬dress."
Bastien hesitated. He really didn't want to bring their outing to an end. He just wanted to move indoors.
"Care to go to Macy's?" he asked. "It's not as cheap as the flea market, but still cheaper than England."
"Sure." She grinned.
"Some people just don't know how to behave," Terri muttered. She watched in disgust as an older female customer shrieked at the hapless cashier who had made the unfortunate mistake of trying to help her. The customer wanted to return a toaster, but didn't have a sales slip or even the box the toaster came in. When the cashier apologetically explained that she couldn't put through the return as it was, that it was company policy, the woman had gone off, and was still doing so. Did she look like a thief? she shrieked. She'd purchased the item in good faith and expected to be treated better than this at Macy's, and so on. Terri was finding it almost painful to watch. The cashier didn't deserve such abuse, and sickened by the scene, Terri turned to see Bastien watching with a frown.
"I wonder where the washrooms are," she mur¬mured, glancing around the busy store.
Bastien peered down at her. "I know," he an¬nounced. "This way."
He gestured the way they had come, and Terri fell into step beside him. Bastien led her to the es-calator. They rode up a floor, then turned right and walked a little distance.
"Up that hall," he said, helpfully. "I'll be waiting right here when you come out."
Nodding, Terri followed his directions. The door to the ladies' room was open, and Terri stepped inside and almost groaned aloud at the sight of the long line of shoppers waiting their turn at the stalls. The size of the line was daunting, and really rather incompre¬hensible to Terri, until she spotted the signs and real¬ized that half the bathroom had been closed off for cleaning.
Wasn't that just her luck? she thought. Her timing had always been bad. Well, there was nothing for it but to wait. She just hoped Bastien was a patient man.
Outside, Bastien leaned against the wall, crossed his arms over his chest, his feet at the ankles, and prepared to wait. Women always took forever in the wash¬room. He'd learned that a long time ago. Three-hundred-plus-years ago, actually. It was one thing that hadn't changed over the ages, and a fact that still bewildered him. What did they do in there for all that time? He'd asked his mother and Lissianna the question many times over the centuries, but they'd never given him a satisfactory answer.
Perhaps Terri would be the exception to the rule. Not that he minded waiting. While it was a relief to be out of the sun, a good deal of damage had already been done, and he felt horrid. A bag or two of blood would be a welcome relief. His head was pounding and his body cramping