was
going to tell you that you can't - "
She threw the plunger through his head
and it clattered off the wall to land in the bathtub. Yanking open
the door, she raced through the kitchen, the parlor and out the
front door, hesitating only a second before skidding down the steps
and doing a sort of loping, wading run through the snow to the
car.
Before she even climbed inside, he
moved himself into the passenger seat with a mere thought. She
slammed the door, hit the lock, then grabbed the steering wheel
with white knuckle strength and stared at the front
porch.
"If you're looking for me, I'm not -
"
This time she hit her head on the door
window when she jerked around. She grappled blindly for the handle,
kicked open the door, then fell from the car, scrambling to her
feet in the snow, then running toward the darkness.
Did the woman never hang around through
a complete sentence? Did she think she would get very far in this
weather? He appeared before her, walking backward with ease as she
struggled through the snow.
"I really do mean you no
harm."
She changed directions and continued to
lope away from him, her ragged breath bursting into the air in
white clouds. Before she could lose sight of the mountain cabin, as
well as her bearings, he placed himself in front of her, forcing
her to stop or run through him. She stopped.
"Look, have I hurt you? Have I done
anything to intentionally make you fear me?"
She bent, her hands on her knees,
fighting to catch a breath that wheezed in her lungs.
"I'm not going to hurt you. Look. I
can't." He held out his hand to caress her face. A sharp stab of
disappointment hit him in the chest when his hand passed right
through her, even though he'd known it would.
She flinched, then
shuddered.
"See? How can I hurt you if
I can't touch you?" he asked logically, ignoring the voice in his
head that mournfully echoed I can't touch
you. I can't touch you.
Her breathing slowed a bit and he
thought perhaps a little of the terror left her eyes. She
straightened and glanced around, no doubt looking for the cavalry,
but from the looks of the way the snow was coming down, the cavalry
couldn't get to her anyway.
"Come back to the cottage. I'll leave
you be, if you wish. But you can't set out in this weather, and you
can't stay in your car. You really don't have an
option."
The woman swallowed hard. Little
droplets of melting snow in her hair quivered with her body as she
tried to look everywhere but at him.
"All right. I'll leave you alone. But
you have to admit, if I meant you any harm, I've had plenty of time
to carry out my plans." He vanished then, reappearing immediately
on the small, darkened balcony overlooking the lake.
What would he do if she continued on?
She'd surely die in the storm, if not by falling into the lake,
then certainly by freezing to death.
He sharpened his night vision, which,
after two hundred years of honing, could spot a praying mantis in
the middle of a garden at a hundred paces.
She stood as he'd left her, her dark
eyes an incongruous contrast against the wisps of cornsilk-colored
hair escaping from beneath her hood. She looked back at the house,
then into the darkness. She wrung her hands and glanced back and
forth again, obviously weighing the risks involved in either
direction.
Damn. He shouldn't have revealed
himself the way he had. But for the first time in nearly two
hundred years he hadn't thought before he acted.
Finally she turned back to the house,
yanking her hood tighter and ducking her head as she waded back to
the house in near knee deep snow.
He sat, perched on a step of the tiny
staircase, his body cloaked in transparency as she stomped her way
across the porch. He heard the twang of the old screendoor opening,
then she pushed the front door inward. Only her head appeared as
she scanned the room. When she saw no sign of his presence she
inched her way in, looking back at the open door as if deciding
whether or not to close it.
With
going to tell you that you can't - "
She threw the plunger through his head
and it clattered off the wall to land in the bathtub. Yanking open
the door, she raced through the kitchen, the parlor and out the
front door, hesitating only a second before skidding down the steps
and doing a sort of loping, wading run through the snow to the
car.
Before she even climbed inside, he
moved himself into the passenger seat with a mere thought. She
slammed the door, hit the lock, then grabbed the steering wheel
with white knuckle strength and stared at the front
porch.
"If you're looking for me, I'm not -
"
This time she hit her head on the door
window when she jerked around. She grappled blindly for the handle,
kicked open the door, then fell from the car, scrambling to her
feet in the snow, then running toward the darkness.
Did the woman never hang around through
a complete sentence? Did she think she would get very far in this
weather? He appeared before her, walking backward with ease as she
struggled through the snow.
"I really do mean you no
harm."
She changed directions and continued to
lope away from him, her ragged breath bursting into the air in
white clouds. Before she could lose sight of the mountain cabin, as
well as her bearings, he placed himself in front of her, forcing
her to stop or run through him. She stopped.
"Look, have I hurt you? Have I done
anything to intentionally make you fear me?"
She bent, her hands on her knees,
fighting to catch a breath that wheezed in her lungs.
"I'm not going to hurt you. Look. I
can't." He held out his hand to caress her face. A sharp stab of
disappointment hit him in the chest when his hand passed right
through her, even though he'd known it would.
She flinched, then
shuddered.
"See? How can I hurt you if
I can't touch you?" he asked logically, ignoring the voice in his
head that mournfully echoed I can't touch
you. I can't touch you.
Her breathing slowed a bit and he
thought perhaps a little of the terror left her eyes. She
straightened and glanced around, no doubt looking for the cavalry,
but from the looks of the way the snow was coming down, the cavalry
couldn't get to her anyway.
"Come back to the cottage. I'll leave
you be, if you wish. But you can't set out in this weather, and you
can't stay in your car. You really don't have an
option."
The woman swallowed hard. Little
droplets of melting snow in her hair quivered with her body as she
tried to look everywhere but at him.
"All right. I'll leave you alone. But
you have to admit, if I meant you any harm, I've had plenty of time
to carry out my plans." He vanished then, reappearing immediately
on the small, darkened balcony overlooking the lake.
What would he do if she continued on?
She'd surely die in the storm, if not by falling into the lake,
then certainly by freezing to death.
He sharpened his night vision, which,
after two hundred years of honing, could spot a praying mantis in
the middle of a garden at a hundred paces.
She stood as he'd left her, her dark
eyes an incongruous contrast against the wisps of cornsilk-colored
hair escaping from beneath her hood. She looked back at the house,
then into the darkness. She wrung her hands and glanced back and
forth again, obviously weighing the risks involved in either
direction.
Damn. He shouldn't have revealed
himself the way he had. But for the first time in nearly two
hundred years he hadn't thought before he acted.
Finally she turned back to the house,
yanking her hood tighter and ducking her head as she waded back to
the house in near knee deep snow.
He sat, perched on a step of the tiny
staircase, his body cloaked in transparency as she stomped her way
across the porch. He heard the twang of the old screendoor opening,
then she pushed the front door inward. Only her head appeared as
she scanned the room. When she saw no sign of his presence she
inched her way in, looking back at the open door as if deciding
whether or not to close it.
With
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