CHAPTER 20 GIGI
GIGI
The girl was waking up. Gigi valiantly resisted the urge to scoot forward, because she’d promised Savannah and Knox that she would keep her back to the wall closest to the door and farthest from their new friend, who looked to be maybe a year younger than Grayson—not all that much older that Gigi herself.
“Hi!” Gigi accented the word with a little wave.
The girl sat up seemingly effortlessly, despite her bindings. Her head stayed aimed down, but brown eyes lifted slowly to meet Gigi’s. The girl said nothing. Gigi waved again. And waited. And waited some more.
“The strong and silent type,” Gigi said sagely. “I know it well. I’m Juliet Grayson, but you can call me Gigi. Everyone does. I kind of think you were looking for me? And you’re in luck, because here I am!”
There wasn’t so much as a flicker in those brown eyes.
“Just as a forewarning,” Gigi continued cheerfully, “I’m getting ready to ask what your name is, and you’re probably not going to want to tell me, so I’ll inevitably end up giving you some sort of nickname, and let’s just say that it’s possible my taste in nicknames can be just a wee bit chaotic.
Nonetheless, I’m sure you’ll excel at continuing to give me the silent treatment for hours on end, which will leave me no choice except to fill the silence, also for hours.
And eventually, you and I will bond, and then…
” Gigi grinned. “You’ll tell me your name. ”
The girl stared holes in Gigi. “You’re Juliet Grayson?”
“Indeed I am! But you can call me Gigi. And you are?”
“Nora.” She had a quiet, understated kind of voice. Gigi wouldn’t have pegged this girl as a fighter.
“It’s nice to meet you, Nora.” Gigi beamed at her. “Sorry about the ropes.”
“What’s a little rope between friends?” Nora replied.
“Exactly,” Gigi agreed, trying not to find Nora’s utter calm about being tied up too unsettling. “Just out of curiosity…” Gigi tried to think of a delicate way to phrase the question. “How quickly could you kill me if you were so inclined?”
“I don’t kill people.” Quiet. Understated.
“So those knives the boys pulled off you, they’re… ornamental?” Gigi said hopefully.
Nora didn’t reply.
Gigi tried again. “Sentimental?” There was the slightest flicker in Nora’s eyes. “They are!” Gigi was quite pleased with herself. “They’re sentimental knives!”
“I would like my knives back.” For the first time, Gigi heard a noticeable accent in Nora’s voice. Something sharp, almost harsh but also in the strangest way borderline… musical.
“I think that can probably be arranged,” Gigi promised. “Just as soon as we’re sure you’re not going to go all slicey-dicey on anyone. And on that note, care to share why you were looking for me?”
“Care to share what you and your friends are doing out here?” Nora replied.
“We were looking for someone,” Gigi replied earnestly.
“Were?”
“We found him.” Gigi cocked her head to the side. “You weren’t expecting me to say him. Who did you think we were looking for?”
“No one.”
Those words triggered a memory in Gigi. “No one,” Gigi repeated slowly, “by design?”
That was how the Woman in Red had referred to herself, after she’d said there was no Calla Thorp anymore.
“It takes a special person,” Nora said, “to be no one.”
A person like you? Gigi thought, but she didn’t go there yet. “Who sent you that picture of Saint Adelaide with my name on it?” Gigi asked instead.
Was it Calla?
“Let us say that it was an old friend and leave it at that.”
“How old?” Gigi pressed. “And does this friend, by any chance, have a fondness for cloaks?”
“Dangerous questions.” Nora let that hang in the air. “I hate to disappoint you, Gigi, but in the grand scheme of all of this, I know quite little. There are questions I cannot answer and questions I will not answer. There is one thing I can tell you, though.”
“And what is that?”
Nora’s chin dipped almost to her chest, but her eyes held fast to Gigi’s. “It’s not going to be you.”