Page 61 of The Gathering Storm

Rebecca leaned forward, eyebrows arched. “And?”

“She’s old, Director, very old, and probably born before the Sisters moved the People out of the Levant.” Sigrid allowed a small smile to curve her lips. “I can explain the science for you, if you like.”

Rebecca’s laughter held genuine humor. “Thank you for the update, but I’ll pass on the science. Please let me know if I can aid your efforts in any way.”

Sigrid rose and bowed, thanked Rebecca, and left, not certain whether the director had aimed her offer of help toward the problems surrounding identifying the Bones of the Just, or the problems surrounding Sigrid’s burgeoning relationship with Will.

Will woke up alone in Sigrid’s bed a little before noon. After the dismal meeting with his mother, it hadn’t taken much persuading for him to stay with Sigrid beyond the weekend. Yeah, so he’d promised to give it time and not rush into anything, and he’d fully intended to.

Until Sigrid slipped out of her office Saturday afternoon behind his mother, her nose a little too red for the room’s warmth.

She’d been crying.

He rolled over onto Sigrid’s side of the bed and bunched her pillow up under his head. The light, floral scent of her shampoo drifted to him and, predictably, his morning woody went from rock hard to rocketing to get off.

Already, he was addicted to her.

He huffed out a humorless laugh into her pillow. Meanwhile, she’d gone cold on him again. It had taken all his patience to coax her into cuddling with him Saturday night after he came to bed. Even half asleep, she’d resisted. Frustration had pushed him into settling the matter the old fashioned way, with a mind-numbing, heart-thumping, melt your bones inside and out kiss, and it had worked, thank Ki.

She’d let him curl around her through the rest of the night without another objection, but last night, she’d reverted to Ice Queen and tried to push him away again. In between, during the hours he’d spent working on one project or another, she’d tagged along and helped out where she could, sure, but she was silent, always watching, like something evil was about to strike and only her constant vigilance kept it at bay.

Damn it, he was getting tired of having to thaw her out.

And the exhibition was Friday night, less than a week away. She needed to focus, needed to train. He’d help her how and where he could, but he needed something, too. Reciprocation, if nothing else. Mutual affection and support. Something. Was that too much to ask?

He pushed his worry away and tried to relax, and dozed fitfully until his alarm went off, signaling the beginning of his day. Sigrid was in meetings all day, so he met Ethan for a weight lifting session at the IECS gym, then ordered a quick lunch from Tellowee’s only restaurant, a meat and three that doubled as a deli, and took it to Robert’s office for a couple of hours of work there.

Will settled down in Robert’s chair, and while he ate, he listened to the voice messages that had accumulated since he’d checked the answering machine the day after Robert’s hospitalization. Some of it was personal. Will skipped those, leaving them for Robert to handle, and jotted notes for the ones he needed to return.

One call was from a genealogist in Connecticut that Robert had asked to dig into James Terhune’s ancestry. Rhonda Bowman was the wife of a Son, and a respected colleague from Robert’s days as a professor of history. Her message was brief and to the point: Found something important. Please call asap.

Will finished his lunch, cleared his trash, and took a quick trip to the men’s room to clean up. As soon as he sat down at Robert’s desk again, he picked up the phone’s handset and dialed Rhonda. She answered with a terse, “Hello.”

“Mrs. Bowman, this is Will Corbin. I’m an associate of Robert Upton’s at the Institute for Early Cultural Studies in Tellowee, Georgia.”

A long pause followed. “I expected Robert to return my call.”

“He’s out of the office for a while.” No need to say why. If Robert wanted her to know, he’d tell her. “I’m taking care of his current research projects until his return. You’re working on James Terhune’s ancestry?”

“Yes.” Just when Will thought he was going to have to prompt her, she continued in her sharp, Yankee accent. “He’s of the People through his mother’s line, which confirms the DNA tests Robert sent me. My research indicates he’s descended from the line of Abragni.”

Excitement skipped through Will. He’d gotten to know James pretty well since the archaic language expert’s arrival in Tellowee a few months back, and liked him. To learn the other man was a cousin, however distant? Amazing.

“Do you know which line?” he asked.

“Yes, I—” The line crackled and popped, and Rhonda sighed. “It’s storming here. I’ll mail copies of the research to Robert. If you have any questions, shoot me an email.”

“Sure. Thanks for the help.”

Will hung up and sat back in the chair. It creaked and bounced under his shifting weight, reminding him of the many hours he’d spent helping Robert in the decade and a half since his apprenticeship, and of his own obligations to the People.

James Terhune was a cousin.

Will grinned and logged into Robert’s desktop computer. An email to James wouldn’t take long, then Will could hunker down with the other research he’d planned to oversee today, much of it related to the tests Sigrid and George were running. He needed to track down the living descendants of a Daughter named Jaran, among others, but for now, he intended to connect with a newly found relative and share the good news.

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