Blizzard Girl ©

Chapter Twenty-Three:

Another 100 euro cab ride later and I was in the same place from earlier. As I glanced around the bustling place I was earlier, I was relieved to see Percival walking towards me. 

"You look happy to see me," he said in flawless French.

"Don't act so fresh! I'm happy to see you because I realized I'd never thought to ask for your phone number."

Percival's smile turned so breathtaking, I held back a swoon. "Do you want my phone number?" he asked back in his regular British. "I know you don't have a mobile of your own, but Ventisca..." he tilted my chin with his finger so I'm looking at him. "I can get you your own mobile. All you have to do is ask."

I forcefully took a step away from him as I said, "Forget I said anything, Percival. Why do I need your mobile number when you can find me anywhere right?"

"How about for assurance?" He gave me a business card out of his blazer pocket. "Don't lose it. Better yet, commit that number to memory."

When, I looked at the card I laughed. "So, what does a renaissance man do for work anyways?"

"As the title suggest. Just about everything." Percival shrugged as he said, "You know, I do wish the papers called me Renaissance man over blood leech. It has a nicer ring to it."

"You're sick, Percival," I said vehemently. "I'm sure there's a space in hell with your name on it."

"Yes there would be, if hell exists." His eyes looked so could I had to look away. It chills me to this day that I happened to be immune to Percival's ability and that's the only reason I'm alive. That there were ghosts of women not as fortunate as I was. 

I placed the business card of a serial killer in my wallet as I replied, "I'm ready to go home, Percival."

"Not quite."

"Excusez-moi?"

"You think you're being cute mon cherie? We're going back to my place for a debriefing. I want to know verbatim what happened tonight." He grabbed my free hand before I could object. A snap of his damn fingers and we were back in his mirror world.

So, sitting in a comfortable recliner chair right across from him, I recounted everything. From the checkpoints, to meeting him again after at the drop-off point. After I stopped talking, Percival closed his eyes. "Are you okay?"

"I will be in a moment so please be quiet." I wrinkled my nose at his words. 

He opened his eyes just in time to deflect my icicle with a reflection. "Still amateur hour, I see," he said with a disappointed look on his face. His disappointed look quickly moved to one of curiosity. "Ventisca, you said you had a pleasant conversation with the Dumont family."

"Yes?"

"For how long did you speak with them?" 

"What?"

"The Dumont's. How long did you speak with them?" He leaned forward in his recliner, elbows resting on his knees. "You see, I'm thinking they could have slightly wiped your brain."

Laughing, really hard, I was about to tell him he was crazy. Until I realized the crazy train left since the first time my dark brown hair turned white. "Alright Percival, I thought the Dumont's could only make people--" I stopped myself as I tried to recall what the pleasant conversation was about. "Like forget? The Dumont's made me forget I was ever questioned. I don't remember anything about the conversation I had with them!"

"Now you're catching on!" Percival shook his head in complete astonishment. "Well, whatever questions you answered, it didn't lead to any affiliation with me. Which means we have an in."