That had definitely not been Moroccan, and this woman’s English was accented in a way that wasn’t local . . . and that made an ache form in the center of Elena’s chest. “You’re French?”

“Oui.” Still smiling, the woman pointed to a small vanity that held the usual accoutrements—well, usual for most women. Potions and pots and cosmetics. “I will brush my hair, yes?”

“Go ahead. I just wanted to talk to you, promise. Nothing to fear.”

“But it is . . .” The woman lifted a finger to her lips.

“Yeah.” Arms folded, Elena leaned against the wall after letting Raphael know everything was fine. “How did you come to be here?”

“I came with an angel down the long tunnel.” She shivered. “I had to close my eyes or I would’ve screamed.”

“No, not physically. How did you come to be . . .” Elena fought to find words that wouldn’t be an insult.

“Providing joy to the Luminata?” A mischievous smile. “I was traveling through this area and I was made an offer.” A liquid shrug. “It is a wild thing to do, but they are angels and I have not made promises to any man yet. When I am old and gray, I will have scandalous stories to tell my children, non?”

Elena felt her lips curve at that utterly unrepentant and happy statement. “What’s your name?”

“Josette.”

“Josette, I got to agree with you about angels—though I’m only partial to one particular angel.”

The other woman’s laugh was half giggle and all delight. “If I had Raphael, I would not look at any other pair of wings, either.” Having combed her damp hair smooth, the dark strands showing signs that they might curl as they dried, Josette turned and went to her wardrobe to pull out underwear. Unself-consciously shrugging off her towel to slip on white lace panties, she then picked up a nightshirt she’d already hung on a chair and pulled it on. “You worry for me?” Josette asked.

At Elena’s nod, the other woman smiled again. “I am happy here, and though it is a thing that is a little naughty, I will leave here with many delicious memories.”

A hint of wickedness, those dimples just the icing on the cake. “I have asked for nothing, no money, no gifts. Just memories. So I do not think of it as a transaction, more a . . . mutual pleasure, yes? An adventure before I go back to my normal life as a woman who works in an office and who wants to one day have a small house with a husband and babies.”

Elena had no problem believing Josette—but she’d heard how Gervais and his friend had spoken about those hidden in this clandestine space. Josette might see this as a little harmless adventure in a life that would be ordinary enough otherwise, but Elena wasn’t so sure about her safety. “The other men and women here,” she said. “You know them?”

The first hint of trepidation colored Josette’s features, the shorter woman twisting her fingers together in front of Elena. “I can’t open the door from this side. Only the angels have the key.”

Elena looked at the door, saw it had a keyed lock on this side, too. But there was no key in it at present. “Are you sure you’re not a prisoner, Josette?”

“I have been here six days,” the woman answered. “One more and I am meant to be returned to the town so I can find my way to the nearest big city and fly home.” She swallowed. “They said they had to bring me here deep in the night, and that I had to stay in this room, because not all of the angels in this place accept the needs of the flesh. It felt like a fun secret.”

Amber eyes stark, she stared at Elena. “Was I wrong to trust them?”

“I’m not sure yet,” Elena murmured, wondering exactly how the Luminata had kept this secret for so long if they were picking up not only men and women from the town—people they could control and intimidate—but travelers like Josette who would speak of her adventures. The only answer was a deadly one. “I need you to enter the other two rooms so those inside aren’t scared as you were when I came in. I want to check if they’re here voluntarily, too.”

Nodding, Josette padded forward.

“Wait,” Elena said, suddenly realizing a rather big fact. “Raphael’s outside. Don’t scream.”

Face paling, Josette swayed on her feet. Elena caught her, held her until the other woman’s eyes focused again. “You good?”

“Yes.” It was a breathy whisper. “He’s here? Really?”

Elena nodded and stepped out first. “Remember, no squeals or sounds.”

Peeking out, Josette stared at Raphael for a long moment, seemed to stop breathing for nearly a minute before she pressed both hands to her mouth and sighed. “Il est magnifique,” she whispered to Elena, then, at her nod, walked out to go to the door next to hers. She turned the key, entered—and returned almost at once. “It’s empty.”

Elena checked, tasted the scent of disuse in the air. “How many angels come regularly to you?”

Blushing, Josette leaned in close to whisper, “Three come almost every day. Two others have come once each.”

Five angels, Elena thought, even as the scent of the sea surrounded her.

There have to be more involved, Raphael said. The sense of wrongness in Lumia is too deep for it to be only five angels who are breaching the core values on which Lumia is built.

Agreeing, Elena spoke to Josette again. “I don’t think the third room will be empty.”