“Hubbard touched you on the wrist. Only the wrist. Do you know why?” “Because he was trying to get my attention,” I said. “No. He was trying to capture mine. Your pulse is here,” Matthew said, his thumb sweeping over the vein. I shivered. “The blood is so close to the surface that I can see it as well as smell it. Its heat magnifies any foreign scent placed there.” His fingers circled my wrist like a bracelet. “Where was Françoise?”
