“So, you can change personalities like some people change clothes?” she’d asked.

Expression pinching, he’d answered, “It’s more of a philosophy of who you are. I don’t believe in atonement. The hurt, damage, and pain you cause someone can’t be taken back. It’s real and permanent. Atonement is about making the perpetrator feel better about himself by making other people or their conditions better. Me? I live with the guilt. Through it, I am motived to never commit the same acts again.”

He’d smiled. “Doesn’t mean I’m a saint. I still have my petty side. I did, after all, send Dan Wirth back to Miko as payback. Sort of like lobbing a hand grenade into his well-manicured world.”

For days now, her existence had been idyllic. Just her and Dek, fishing, taking walks, working in the garden, cooking together, sharing stories and laughter, and rationing out the last of the bourbon. Each of them lost in that first golden haze of exploring a human being they were attracted to.

And there was the sex.

Maybe there was something to this Taglioni “training.” If Talina ever ran into this mysterious Kalay, she’d offer her personal thanks.

Everything going so well, and then Dek had to run off into the forest with this latest bullshit? Hell, he had been dealing: the episodes of blank looks, the sudden flashbacks had been fewer, of less impact.

“Clap-trapping hell, Dek! Couldn’t you have just gone with the flow?”

It wasn’t like they had to leave Two Falls Gap. For all Talina had started to care, they might just stay there. Become Wild Ones. The two of them. Hunting, fishing, telling stories by the fire. She loved it when Dek would listen, rapt, as she told stories of quetzal hunts, of taking down bad men, of rescues she’d made out in the bush. No man, not even Cap, had listened with such complete focus.

In turn, he’d recount stories about his youth, talking about people that Talina had thought of as some sort of gods. Names like Radcek, Montano, Suharto, Grunnels, and Xian Chan among others. He told of remarkable places, stunning residences, and opulent palaces. And then came the tales of intrigue, backstabbing, and the deadly games of the powerful and rabidly ambitious.

“All that,” Talina groused, leaping to the top of a knot of roots and hopping surefooted down the other side. “And you’re going to lose it all by getting yourself eaten out in the forest?”

That’s when her nose caught the faint scent. A curious, almost balsamic vinegar kind of . . . The quetzal reaction was immediate: frightened, almost to the point of paralysis. Talina pushed it to the back of her mind, suddenly as wary as she’d ever been.

“Yeah, guys,” she said softly, lifting her rifle, finger on the rest over the trigger, safety off. “I get the message.”