Part 11 (1/2)

Daniel smiled. ”Hungry?” he asked.

The boy, afraid to make any comment, even the most innocuous, gave the tiniest of nods.

”Me, too,” Daniel said, for all the world as if Raeto and his henchmen weren't there. ”A few spoonfuls of camp food and I'll be feeling like my old self again.”

Raeto had stiffened, listening, trying to make out whether there was an insult in the words. Then, his impatience finally too much for him, he turned, facing Daniel again.

”You arrogant sack of s.h.i.+t!”Daniel looked to him, his expression bland. ”If you say so.”

Raeto laughed, as if he'd finally scored a hit; but then his eyes narrowed. ”If I say so? Are you challenging my word?”

”I wouldn't dream of it,” Daniel said urbanely. ”You seem to know how things are.”

Raeto had begun to nod, but again he caught himself and frowned. Was Daniel taking the p.i.s.s? He tilted his head slightly, his eyes almost closed as he spoke again. His whole body was aching for a fight But first there was this ritual to be gone through.

”You'll suck my c.o.c.k, then?”

”And lick your a.r.s.e? Sure ...”

But there was the faintest smile on Daniel's face now.

Raeto tensed. Behind him his little crew of thugs bristled, ready for action. ”Tonight,” Daniel said nonchalantly. ”In your rooms. Oh, and Raeto ... make sure ifs nice and dirty for me, eh?”

There was a long silence at the table after Raeto and his boys had gone.

Finally, Tom looked up from his bowl and spoke.

”Are you really going to go there, Daniel?”

Daniel stopped spooning up his soup and looked back at the boy. ”Sure.”

”And are you really ... you know?”

But Daniel didn't answer. Daniel looked back at his bowl and began to spoon up the foul, thin liquid once more, while round the table the boys looked on with troubled eyes.

Ben brought her breakfast in bed, on a tray, with tea in the finest china and a single red rose in a tiny gla.s.s vase.

Lonely, she thought, looking at him as he sat on the edge of the bed, looking out through the open cas.e.m.e.nt window. Who'd have thought you would be lonely? But so he was.

She tucked in, eating with an appet.i.te she had forgotten she possessed.

Ifs the air here, she reminded herself. It always does this to me.

And Ben, too. He had always known how to excite her, more than any other man.

Even Dogo. And Dogo had been a warrior.

Of all her husbands and lovers, Ben had always been the strangest No man had ever come so close to her, no, nor remained so far apart. Split, he was. As if he were two men, not one. There was this gentle, kindly man. And then there was the other - the violent psychopath with the camera eyes and the ability to mimic anything and everything.

No man could be more cruel. No, not even DeVore when it came down to it, and that was saying a great deal indeed. Strange, then, that they had become allies these past few months.

”Ben?”

He turned, looking at her, a faint smile on his lips. ”Yes?”

”Why did Meg leave?”

He stared at her a moment, then stood and, turning away from her, walked out of the room. She heard his footsteps clumping heavily down the spiral steps, then he was gone.

Setting the tray aside, she got up and went over to the window. Ben was outside in the morning sunlight, striding down the long garden, heading for the fields beside the bay.

”Wrong question,” she said quietly, annoyed with herself -with that d.a.m.ned curiosity of hers. ”Wrong sodding question.”

Ben returned two hours later, his hair slicked back.

”Ben? Are you all right?”

He nodded. ”I went swimming. Down in the cove. I...” He sat down on the other side of the table to her, facing her. ”I'm sorry. Ifs hard, you know. I didn't think anything in life would be hard, but living without her is... well, impossible. I didn't think I needed anyone, but I do. She's my twin, Catherine. My soul. Without her ...”

It was not what she wanted to hear, but she could not help but listen.

”She left,” he said, looking down, ”because of DeVore.”

”Because you agreed to work with him, you mean?”

HOMECOMING.

”Yes.”

”Then ...”

”Then whafi” He met her eyes, defiant now. ”I cannot limit myself, Catherine.

Not the way she wanted me to limit myself.”

”And yet you cannot live without her.”

”No.”

”Then you must choose.”