Adjusting the young assailant's loyalties was simple. Bob sent the has been assassin to find a place of concealment near the hotel. He'd be taking him along when he went to the Tong's headquarters.The boy scampered away, something like a frightened rabbit, aglow with the task from the new gang he'd joined.Bob remained where he was, considering the attraction he felt earlier. It was very strong now. He couldn't reach out to touch the odd geas, but it remained tenuously there. Then something tweaked his interest.It was a tree. The one the youngster used for concealment. The tree was short and stunted, nothing growing near it for twenty or thirty feet. For some reason the tree radiated symbols, a little like the amber like medallions.The sense was vaporous, out of reach every time Bob strove to contact it. There was a feeling of hidden intelligence, a separate ego, an active set of thoughts. Still he couldn't reach the stream of symbols, unable to quite read them.Bob felt at his wrist.. We did all manner of things, enjoying ourselves more than we had done for many a year. We slept in late. Stayed up late exploring the city. We made love wherever and whenever the fancy took us. We laughed and joked more than I can remember. Other times we’d just cuddle and talk for hours on end.Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday were days when we were so wrapped up in each other that I honestly don’t think either of us even thought about Grace or Francis. Donovan called us on Wednesday and commented that something felt different about us. He reckoned we seemed like a giggly couple of teenagers. When he asked what was up, we told him a half-truth. That we were enjoying a few days off together and we were having such a great time that it had reminded us of when we were younger and more carefree. I’m not sure if he really believed our explanation, but he had the good grace to at least pretend he did.It was only on Thursday that Grace and Francis started re-entering our thoughts. It was Sue.
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