Segment Three: Reunion of Yin and Yang

Gray took in the discomfited creature. Nobody else was coming. She was the one. He might have dried her out a bit on the first pass, but the shock of the room had already shaken her and he didn’t want her to bolt. He’d prefer to avoid losing her. He needed her. If she turned him down, he’d never be able to finish.

He had an ancient contract. She’d come on the auspices of a job. He nudged her toward the table. With narrowed eyes, he observed her back. While she focused on the table, he gave the air a swirl-just a subtle push of energy to speed the drying process. She’d never notice. Dry clothes and wavy hair seemed important to her comfort-and he did want to see to her comfort.

She hesitated beside the table. He reached around her and pulled the chair back, careful not to touch her, but close enough to sniff the fragrance of roses emanating from her hair. She lowered herself slowly, then lifted her chin and gazed into his eyes.

“And, your name?”

“Gray Stone.” He focused on her eyes. If only she were capable of seeing inside his mind, then his mission could proceed effortlessly. But the spell was cast by his own hand and therefore impenetrable.

He quickly rounded the table and sat. With as much calm as he could muster, he poured tea and offered her a plate of fruit and pastries. In silence, she selected a few strawberries and added milk to her tea. Hints of bergamot filled the air as she stirred the steaming liquid. He flattened his palms on the coarse linen-covered table and refrained from the urge to drum his fingers. How to proceed?

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