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the latest sour expression on his employer's face. |
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Bryan didn't look up from the crystal in the bowl. "I don't know." |
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Peering over Bryan's shoulder, Conrad saw that the crystal, which before had been as clear as ice, was a pale shade of pink, and as he looked on, it turned bright red. |
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"Why'd it do that?" the bodyguard asked. |
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"Kyna's up to something." |
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Opening one of his musty books, Bryan began madly turning pages. He found the one he wanted and read, moving his finger and lips in unison. |
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"Shit! This is no help. Clear means she's okay. Black means she's dead. But what the fuck does red mean?" |
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Kyna sighed. "I wish I hadn't given up smoking." |
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"I'm . . . sorry I was so rough," Cyrus whispered in her ear. |
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She ran the pads of her fingers over the two deep, round indentations in her shoulder. |
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"Did I break the skin?" he asked. |
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She turned on her side, facing him, and draped her arm across his chest. "Tell me about the dream." |
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Cyrus listened to their hearts beating in syncopation. "I can't remember." |
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She twirled her fingers in the thick hair of his chest. "Can I tell you something?" When he nodded, she continued. "I liked it." She saw his expression and hurried on. "Don't get me wrong, I don't like being slapped around. I got enough of that when I was a kid. It's just . . . you were so . . . I don't know how to describe it. To make you crazy like that . . . It made me feel so sexy, so incredibly hot." |
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He ran his fingers through her hair and then gently pulled her head down on his chest. A few minutes later she was snoring. |
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