Sixx (The Stone Society, #7) (32 page)

“Baby, if you come find me, I’ll do whatever you want, wherever you want. I promise. You come find me, and I’m all yours. Forever.”

Kiss me, Desmond. Kiss me...
“Kiss me...” Simone muttered aloud. “Wait, come back. Desmond... Desmond!”

“Simone, sweetie, are you okay?” Josie asked as she sat on the bed next to Simone’s hip. “You were screaming at Desmond to come back.”

Simone sat up, shaking. A sheen of perspiration covered her body. “It seemed so real,” she explained sleepily.

“Of course you’re going to have a nightmare about your man, honey. He’s been kidnapped.”

“He’s not my man... it’s just...”

“What? What is it?”

“You’ll think I’m crazy. Hell, I think I’m crazy. That didn’t feel like a dream. I could hear the fear in his voice, the pleading with me to find him. He even told me where he is. Said to contact his mother, Desirae Rothchild. Josie, I’ve never heard his mother’s name before. How would I know that?”

“Desmond, Desirae. They’re similar. It makes sense.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right. Sorry I woke you.”

“It’s fine. I had to pee anyway. Can I get you something before I go back to bed?” Josie asked as she pushed Simone’s curls away from her face. She really was the best friend a girl could ask for.

“No. I’m good. Thanks, Jos.”

“You bet, baby.” Josie kissed her on the cheek and left her alone with her thoughts.

There was no way Simone would get back to sleep after that. She pushed down the covers and swung her legs over the side of the bed. She sat there, going back over everything Desmond had said to her.
Desirae...
Simone slid off the bed and padded over to her desk, firing up her laptop. She would prove it was a dream and that she had conjured his mother’s name. As soon as the search engine was available, Simone typed in the name from her dream.

Holy shit. Holy flipping shit.
Desirae Rothchild, Owner of Rothchild Designs, is one of California’s premiere graphic artists. Having won several awards over the years, Ms. Rothchild takes clients by appointment only. For more information, call...

Call her crazy, but Simone walked back to her bed and picked her cell phone off the nightstand. She called the number listed and waited while it rang. If it was a business phone, Simone prayed the woman checked her messages. Sure enough, she got an answering machine. Instead of telling her why she was calling, Simone left a generic message, asking Desirae to call as soon as possible. When she hung up, she scrolled through her contacts until she found the name she was looking for. Cynthia Moreau was the publicist for Cyanide Sweetness. They had swapped business cards over set design conversations. What was she going to tell the other woman that wouldn’t make her sound crazy? Desmond came to me in a dream, and I have clues to where he is? No, that was ludicrous.

Simone closed her laptop and climbed back under the covers. It was bad enough she’d called Desmond’s mother.  She would attempt to go back to sleep, and if by some chance he came to her again, then she would contact Cynthia. Right after she made an appointment with a psychiatrist.

S
he thinks she’s dreaming.
Desi had actually talked to Simone. Had felt her hand in his, had been bestowed with her beautiful smile. He’d been tempted to try and kiss her.

Let me have a go at her.

Oh, hell no. You’ll scare her off before we ever get a chance to meet her.

She asked you to make love to her. I am happy to comply.

The more conversations Desi had with his shifter, the crazier he felt. He knew he shouldn’t use the term
crazy
. Having lived through his mom’s bouts of depression, he had a special place in his heart for anyone who suffered mentally. Desi now had a small understanding of what those who suffered from schizophrenia went through. If his mate found him, he was going to make a huge donation to the local mental institution. And he was going to hold a charity fundraiser to help raise awareness.
I will try again. You keep working on getting a lock on our location.

His shifter complied once again, so Desi dove back into the quietness of his mind and reached for his mate.
Simone, come back. I need to talk to you.
Desi waited. Then he waited some more.
Simone?
What if he hadn’t really contacted her? Maybe being with her on the riverbank was wishful thinking on his part.
Simone? Beautiful Girl, are you there?
He once again imagined them in the tall grass.

“I’m here. Please tell me I’m not crazy.”

You’re not crazy. I can explain everything, and I will once you get me out of here.
In his mind, he pulled her into his arms.
I’m going to kiss you now, just in case...
Desi leaned down and pressed their mouths together, or at least he imagined doing so. Her lips were as soft as he thought they would be.

“Wow,” she breathed. “If the real thing is half as good...”

It will be even better, I promise. Please, Simone, come find me...
Something was wrong.
Simone?
The connection was gone. He kept trying to get it back, but it was no use. Whatever happened on her end must have been strong enough to keep her mind preoccupied.

“R
ae, your phone’s ringing, Doll.” Desirae felt like she had just fallen asleep. Her cell phone was wiggling in front of her face, the ringtone letting her know it was one of the band members.

“Hello?” she squeaked, trying to get her voice to work.

“Hey, Desirae. I’m sorry to wake you so early, but we need to talk about something,” Tyson apologized.

Desirae scooted up to a sitting position and transferred the phone to her other ear so Michael could listen in. “Is this about Desi? Have you heard from him?”

“Not exactly. Listen, this is going to sound off the wall, one-hundred percent certifiable, but some woman called Cynthia asking her for your phone number. She said she might have a clue to where Desi is. Cynthia tried to get more information out of her, but she refused to say anything else. She’ll only talk to you.”

“Who was it that called?”

“Some chick we met about a year ago. She was helping with our costumes. Her name is Simone something or other.”

“Oh, god. Do you have her number? I need to talk to her!” Desirae cried.

“Pretty Momma, this may be a hoax. Just some nut job looking for attention. I don’t want you to get your hopes up.”

“Tyson Moreau, give me her number right now.”

“Yes, ma’am. You ready?”

“Yes, what is it?” she asked while Michael readied his phone to dial the number. This was Desi’s mate. If she was contacting them, there was a good chance Desi had somehow reached out to her. As Tyson rattled off the digits, Michael typed them into his phone. “Got it, thanks!” Desirae hung up and reached for Michael’s phone when it was ringing on the other end.

“Hello?” a tentative voice answered.

“Simone?”

“Yes, who is this?”

“This is Desirae Rothchild, Desi’s mom. You told Cynthia you had information about Desi’s whereabouts?”

“I’m not sure. Ms. Rothchild, you’re going to think I’m crazy...”

“No, sweet girl, I promise you I won’t. Did something happen? Did Desi... contact you?”

“How did you know?” Simone whispered.

“Oh, god, Michael. He’s alive. Simone, please. Do you know where he is? Anything that can help us find him at all?” Desirae begged.

Simone blew out a breath and said, “He mentioned a couple of rivers and a bunch of trees. We were walking along a riverbank through some tall grass.”

“He told you that you were walking or you saw it, like a dream?” Michael questioned.

“Who’s that?” Simone asked.

“Desi’s father. He’s here with me. We’re both so worried about our son. So did you dream this, Simone?”

“Sort of, but when I said as much, Desmond... Desi said it wasn’t a dream. How is this possible? It is possible, right? Because you haven’t freaked out yet.”

“Desi is gifted, Simone, but I need you to keep that little tidbit to yourself. I know this is a lot to ask, but if I buy you a ticket, will you fly out to California and help us find Desi?” Michael asked.

“I don’t know how I can help.”

“He’s reached out to you. He’ll keep trying. Please.”

“Yeah, I guess I can.”

“Good. Please go get packed. I will make arrangements at LaGuardia. A first class ticket will be waiting on the next available flight.”

“How do you know that’s the closest airport?” Simone asked. Michael smacked his forehead and backpedaled.

“I didn’t. I just assumed you would live near the city considering the job you have. Cynthia informed us as to your identity.”

“Oh. Okay. Yeah, well, I’ll go get packed, and I guess I’ll see you later today.”

“Thank you, Simone. I’ll be waiting for you at the airport,” Desirae informed her, hoping to sound motherly.

Once they’d said goodbye, Michael rose from the bed and went into his office to book Simone a ticket. Desirae followed him, too anxious to go back to sleep. Michael’s face was serious as he tapped away at his laptop. When his focus remained on the screen in front of him, Desirae decided to make some coffee. While she was at it, she also decided that food sounded good, too. Uri’s Beef Stroganoff had been delicious, but she’d been too upset to eat much. Now, her grumbling stomach told her it needed sustenance.

As she moved around the kitchen, Desirae’s thoughts ran through the brief conversation they’d had with Simone. She hadn’t freaked out when Simone said Desi spoke to her, but it still boggled her mind that some of the Gargoyles were able to communicate telepathically. She felt Michael’s presence as soon as he stepped into the room. She was becoming more in tune with him every day. Desirae focused on his face to gauge his mood. When they were together years before, Michael had always been what she called even. Always easy-going. Now, she could sense the underlying torment when he was upset or the love he telegraphed with a look.
Oh, shit. He told you he loved you, and you didn’t say it back.

Desirae crossed the kitchen to where he was watching her and slid her hands around his neck. “I love you, Michele Frederico Giannino. And I love Michael Frederick Gentry even more. I fell in love with you twenty-four years ago. That hasn’t changed.”

“Forever?” Michael asked, the insecurity coming through loud and clear.

“Forever. Now, tell me the plan.” She kissed his lips and pulled away to start cooking breakfast. If she stayed in his arms a second longer, she would wrap her legs around his waist and beg him to take her right there on the table. Even in the midst of a crisis, her body ached for his touch.

“Simone’s ticket has been purchased. I want her to tell us exactly what Desi telegraphed to her with his mind. I’ll have Julian on speakerphone in case she has physical clues he can look up on his computer. I have to be honest; I don’t know how this mind stuff works. Dante is the expert in that department. While we’re waiting for her plane to arrive, I’m going to call Dante and pick his brain. Simone thought she was dreaming since Desi reached her during sleep. I need to know how to get the girl to concentrate while awake. She has to be able to open her mind to him.”

“Wouldn’t that be the same as meditating? You know, what Uri was doing last night?”

“Probably. If it is, I will teach her some of the techniques Frey taught me. If you don’t mind, I think I’m going to go for a swim. Do some laps.”

“Of course, I don’t mind. I’ll have breakfast waiting when you’re done.” This was one of those times Desirae felt that Michael needed to be alone. Being in the water was a balm to her soul, and she knew he felt the same way. When she was in the ocean, even when the waves were churning around her, it was the most peaceful feeling in the world. Michael kissed her again before retreating outside.

It was like déjà vu when the kitchen door opened and Tessa announced their presence. What if she and Michael had been having sex? Tessa must have read her mind, because the redhead said, “Don’t worry, Rae. We listened to see if you and Sixx were using the kitchen table for something other than what it was intended for before barging in.”