real and powerful and something so rare and precious that very few people experience a connection like this and I’m so very afraid to lose it, that I’m just letting it go, letting you go, and that will be the worst mistake of my life.” She pulled their joined hands to her heart where it beat crazily. “I know what has to be done for both of our families, but…” She shook her head. “I don’t know what is the right thing to do.”
His other hand cupped her cheek and slipped into her hair. “I don’t know. I don’t know either.”
They stared hard into each other’s faces. Lenore wondered if she memorized his features hard enough if she could somehow lock him into memories that in reality she’d never make.
“I—I’m sorry. I can’t lose Charity.”
He nodded as though he’d known that was the only choice all along and whispered gruffly.
“All right. Let’s go get your sister.”
His hands slid away from hers, warmth to cold air. “Get me close, and then leave. I cannot protect ye both.”
“I’m not—“
“Lass.” He clamped his lips tight and shook his head. “Nay, I do not believe ye’ll heed me on this. Charity is yer kin. I understand.” He focused a soft puppy-dog look at her.
Geez, way to get under a girl’s defensives. She was hopelessly lost to him. And honestly, if he asked her to walk away from this and leave Charity to her own devices, she would probably wouldn’t have the strength to deny him, though she knew Col would never ask it.
“Give me a few moment’s lead. I may be able to get by them without interference. Does that window lead to Charity’s rooms?”
Lenore narrowed her eyes at the high small window of Charity’s bathroom. “It’s double-paned and latched from the inside.”
“Have ye never heard of the Open Stone?”
Of course. Part of the Highland games where brawny Scots swung an assortment of things around from large stones, long spherical shaped hammers and even tree trunks. Throwing, always throwing. The Open Stone was a simple toss from one hand to measure who could throw their silly boulders the farthest.
She saw where he was going. “We’ll need a pretty big rock.” Wait. This was her grandmother’s car. Judith Greves was anything but the typical conventional grandma. Leaning over Col, Lenore opened the glove compartment, her side brushing across his chest and she froze, closing her eyes tightly when he leaned closer, letting his chin rub the top of her hair. Did he just inhale? Tingles surged rapid-fire quick through her body. It took everything in her to focus on the task at hand. Oh, yeah, glove compartment. Charity. Monsters.
She searched through it and came up empty.
Okay. Not giving up, she rooted around beneath the driver’s seat and…yatzhee, came up with a shiny revolver. Thank you Grandma. She checked the chamber for bullets. Fully loaded. Grandma didn’t mess around.
Lenore grinned. “You want in through the window, big guy? Here’s your first class ticket.”
Col’s forehead scrunched like he didn’t have the foggiest what she was talking about. Yeah, right, gun meet ancient Highland warrior.
“Trust me.”
At his nod, she melted. Just like that, he took her word that she knew what she was doing.
She hoped to hell his confidence wasn’t wasted. “Ready?” She turned the engine over. Outside, the Morlocks faces swiveled toward the sound. Game on.
Col nodded again and instantly shimmered with light, a glowing pulsing nimbus outlining his form, filling the car with brightness. If the Morlocks didn’t see that, they were truly blind beneath those yucky eye scarring.
Col’s transformation was beautiful. He was beautiful. Like looking into his soul again only this time from the outside. She should know. She’d been inside him.
He looked like tiny bursts of light pulsing, changing in shape like a mass of glowing honeybees, forever fluctuating and shrinking.
And then he was gone. The light
His other hand cupped her cheek and slipped into her hair. “I don’t know. I don’t know either.”
They stared hard into each other’s faces. Lenore wondered if she memorized his features hard enough if she could somehow lock him into memories that in reality she’d never make.
“I—I’m sorry. I can’t lose Charity.”
He nodded as though he’d known that was the only choice all along and whispered gruffly.
“All right. Let’s go get your sister.”
His hands slid away from hers, warmth to cold air. “Get me close, and then leave. I cannot protect ye both.”
“I’m not—“
“Lass.” He clamped his lips tight and shook his head. “Nay, I do not believe ye’ll heed me on this. Charity is yer kin. I understand.” He focused a soft puppy-dog look at her.
Geez, way to get under a girl’s defensives. She was hopelessly lost to him. And honestly, if he asked her to walk away from this and leave Charity to her own devices, she would probably wouldn’t have the strength to deny him, though she knew Col would never ask it.
“Give me a few moment’s lead. I may be able to get by them without interference. Does that window lead to Charity’s rooms?”
Lenore narrowed her eyes at the high small window of Charity’s bathroom. “It’s double-paned and latched from the inside.”
“Have ye never heard of the Open Stone?”
Of course. Part of the Highland games where brawny Scots swung an assortment of things around from large stones, long spherical shaped hammers and even tree trunks. Throwing, always throwing. The Open Stone was a simple toss from one hand to measure who could throw their silly boulders the farthest.
She saw where he was going. “We’ll need a pretty big rock.” Wait. This was her grandmother’s car. Judith Greves was anything but the typical conventional grandma. Leaning over Col, Lenore opened the glove compartment, her side brushing across his chest and she froze, closing her eyes tightly when he leaned closer, letting his chin rub the top of her hair. Did he just inhale? Tingles surged rapid-fire quick through her body. It took everything in her to focus on the task at hand. Oh, yeah, glove compartment. Charity. Monsters.
She searched through it and came up empty.
Okay. Not giving up, she rooted around beneath the driver’s seat and…yatzhee, came up with a shiny revolver. Thank you Grandma. She checked the chamber for bullets. Fully loaded. Grandma didn’t mess around.
Lenore grinned. “You want in through the window, big guy? Here’s your first class ticket.”
Col’s forehead scrunched like he didn’t have the foggiest what she was talking about. Yeah, right, gun meet ancient Highland warrior.
“Trust me.”
At his nod, she melted. Just like that, he took her word that she knew what she was doing.
She hoped to hell his confidence wasn’t wasted. “Ready?” She turned the engine over. Outside, the Morlocks faces swiveled toward the sound. Game on.
Col nodded again and instantly shimmered with light, a glowing pulsing nimbus outlining his form, filling the car with brightness. If the Morlocks didn’t see that, they were truly blind beneath those yucky eye scarring.
Col’s transformation was beautiful. He was beautiful. Like looking into his soul again only this time from the outside. She should know. She’d been inside him.
He looked like tiny bursts of light pulsing, changing in shape like a mass of glowing honeybees, forever fluctuating and shrinking.
And then he was gone. The light
Similar Books
