Page 58 of The Spirit Key
That earned me a full-on scowl. “Really? A Romani website?”
“Uh, welcome to the twenty-first century.” I pulled out my phone and tapped the screen, then brought up the search engine. A couple moments later, after entering a few keywords, I had a list of sites. I turned the screen toward him and gave a smug grin. “The best way to get the word out is the ’net, you know.”
He rolled his eyes and muttered something. “So what does it say?”
Many of the sites I checked were from parts of the world where the Romani were classified as less than human. Most were filled with racist crap about the Romani people. There were several that referred to them as gypsies, and while some of the Romani had embraced the word, many others considered it a racial slur. Previously, I never realized that word was meant as an insult. But as we lay in bed a few nights ago, Tim had told me more tales that he’d read, and some of the things they’d been subjected to were horrifying. That was enough to educate me and let me know I didn’t like the word one bit.
“Here!” I jammed my thumb on the screen, and a site in bright, vibrant colors popped up. “This one.”
Tim glanced at the screen, then turned his dubious expression toward me. “Seriously? Why?”
I turned the phone toward him and scrolled down.
When he saw what I had, his eyes widened comically. “You’re kidding.”
There were two graphics on the front page of the site. An ornate brass lock and an intricate silver key, bound together by a heart-shaped strip of ribbon.
Tim didn’t seem convinced. “That’s too much of a coincidence.”
I shrugged. “Maybe, but we have to start somewhere, don’t we?”
His shoulders slumped. “Where is it?”
I scrolled again and clicked the About Us on the page. There was little information, but I did find an address, which was, oddly, nearby. Tim was right, this was way too much of a coincidence, but we were floundering and needed answers.
“Not far from here, believe it or not.”
He made a sound deep in his throat. “I don’t like this.”
“Well, you stay here and—”
He jumped up, grabbed me by the hair, tugging my head back, and glared at me. “Shut up. Where you go, I go.” He kissed me then, and all the annoyance and anger were channeled into it. He was leaving me with no doubt that I meant something to him.
I had to pull my thoughts back to getting on with this. “Should we go now?”
“Might as well. Just remember, you stay near me at all times. Wander more than three feet away, and I’ll tie you to the bed, edge you for hours, and then might not let you come.”
I thought I should be annoyed by his macho bullshit attitude, but I wasn’t. Tim was my lock, and it was his duty to protect me, but the look he gave me was anything but someone who was simply doing a job.
“Is any of this weird for you?”
He chuckled and cuffed me on the shoulder. “Every fucking thing is weird about this. But it makes sense in a way, you know? Mom had me study the Romani people—she had me delve into their pasts, the myths and legends that surround them. She would quiz me about what I learned, and when I told her, then scoffed at the implausibility of it, she reminded me that all legends have roots in fact. And, she said, throughout history there were beings of power in every mythos. Someone wise and powerful who led their peoples. Then she told me that things we consider myth now were, once upon a time, commonplace. It didn’t mean they were true, but it didn’t mean they weren’t.”
Yep. Cryptic.
Tim grabbed his keys and led me to the door. Before he opened it, he turned to me. “What are the rules?”
“You’re seriously asking me that?”
“And you’ll answer it, or we don’t leave the house.”
God protect me from butch, sexy men.“Don’t walk more than three feet away from you. Don’t get fed after midnight, and whatever else, don’t get wet.”
He twisted the front of my shirt in his fist and shoved me against the wall. “Don’t get lippy or else.”
My breaths quickened. “Or else what?”
“Ever heard of a chastity device? Imagine being locked in one for the next month.”
