Thunder rattled the windowpanes as Jenny curled up on the couch in Michael's apartment trying to sleep. Snores drifted up from the floor, where Gunther slept on a sleeping bag. Michael was in his own bed, one room over. Lightning flashed across the back of her eyelids. Between Gunther's snoring and the storm raging outside, Jenny didn't know which was worse. Or maybe it was neither of those things keeping her awake. Thoughts raced around in her head in mass confusion.
Where are they? she thought. Mari and Carl – where could they have taken them? She sighed. Anywhere. They could have taken them anywhere in the entire world. And she didn't know why. Frustration welled up inside her. She only had a little more than a week to try to find them, if what Ashton had said was true. She had to do something to find out more information.
She drifted toward sleep and a face floated into her mind. Pale blue eyes, icy as winter, staring straight into her soul. A shiver coursed through her veins and she gasped, sitting up.
She rubbed her arms. She knew what she had to do.
***********
Wind and rain buffeted her little car as Jenny drove along the deserted country road. What am I doing? she thought. Am I insane? The clock read 2 a.m., affirming her belief that she was indeed out of her mind.
She sighed and pulled onto the dirt driveway. She stopped a hundred feet from the house, turning off the car. For a moment, all she could do was stare at the large, rambling house. Not a single light was lit.
"Jenny, what were you thinking?" she asked herself. She was about to put the car in reverse when a movement to the left of the house caught her eye. A figure in black was quickly walking away from the house, into the woods.
Her heart beating a new rhythm, Jenny got out of the car and followed. Within seconds, she was soaked through by the torrents of rain assailing her. She wished she had at least brought her flashlight.
The only good thing about the storm was that Damian couldn't possibly hear her following him. The sound of the rain hitting the leaves covering the ground effectively covered the sound of her steps.
Damian walked for some time, cutting through the dense foliage seemingly effortlessly. Jenny thought she would lose him a few times when the tangle of undergrowth slowed her progress. She could only see as far ahead as each flash of lightning allowed her. Finally, she did lose him. Her foot caught on a log hidden under the mess of autumn leaves and she tripped, falling over into a thicket of brambles.
"Damn it!" she cursed, perhaps a bit too loudly. The brambles clawed at her hands as she stumbled back to her feet. She stood and stared in the direction she had been heading. Damian was nowhere to be found. She took a deep breath and shut her eyes. She would not lose it, not now. So she was standing out in the middle of nowhere soaked to the bone, she had lost the reason for coming out here, and she was probably lost herself. It didn't matter. Everything was A-Okay. She clenched her fists and let out her breath.
Feeling a little calmer, she decided she would go ahead another hundred feet or so and if she still didn't see him, she'd try to find her way back. A chill began settling over her body, and she wrapped her arms around herself as she walked. When she came to a small clearing, she stopped. She had definitely lost him. Why do you have to be so damn clumsy all the time? she scolded herself.
She sighed and turned to go back the way she had come. A flash of lightning cracked across the sky and illuminated a dark figure standing behind her. She screamed as the figure grabbed her arms.
"Looking for me?" a low, dangerous voice hissed. Damian leaned toward her so that his face was merely a few inches from hers. His eyes seemed to glow in the light of the sky. Then Jenny realized his eyes were glowing on their own accord, an unearthly blue mixed with silver.
Instinctively, Jenny tried to wrench herself out of his grip, but once again found herself caught in his powerful hands.
"I don't like people following me," he growled, almost animal-like in his intensity.
"I . . ." she breathed, fear racing up and down her spine like a physical thing. "I just wanted . . ."
"What? What do you want?" He squeezed her arms even tighter.
"To talk to you!" she cried. She blinked against the droplets of water rolling down her forehead and into her eyes. The rain didn't seem to bother Damian at all. He stared unblinking at her.
He stepped closer to her, so that his body was almost touching hers. "I don't like talking either."
Jenny's suicidal inner self chose that moment to come to the surface. "And I don't like my arms being crushed by blood-sucking leeches," she said. "So why don't you just lay off a bit, you moron."
The glow in his eyes brightened and he glared at her. "And I don't like vermin – especially stupid, mouthy, arrogant vermin who think they can actually follow me without being heard."
"Even if you were human, I wouldn't like you!"
"I should just kill you now and put you out of my misery."
"You'd die trying."
"Not likely. You'd have to be able to put up some semblance of a fight for that."
She stared at him. "I could kill you right now if I wanted to."
"Okay, let's see you try." He let go of her arms and stepped back.
She just stood there, dumbfounded.
"Well, come on," he taunted with a half smirk. "Get out your little knife and let's see what you can do. Remember, I let you go last time."
Anger washed over her. "Like hell you did!" She clicked the trigger on her arm sheath – and nothing happened. "What the hell?" She pushed up the sleeve of her shirt frantically and found the sheath was empty.
Damian snickered. "Oh no, what will you do now?"
"I don't understand . . ." And then she did understand. When she had tripped on that log she had thought she'd heard something fall to the ground but had brushed it off. Shit. She looked at Damian. "It doesn't matter. I can kill you anyway."
"Go ahead." He motioned with his arms for her to take the bait.
Stupidly, she took the bait. With a roar, she lunged at him, striking out with a fist.
He stood motionless as she rushed him. If this was football camp, he'd be the dummy. But as Jenny's fist was about to connect with his stomach, his hands moved like lightning, grabbing her wrist and pulling her into him. The impact bounced her backwards and she fell to the ground. He laughed and she rolled to her feet, already charging him again. He sidestepped and she ran by him.
Furious, she screamed, "Come on, fight me, damn you!" He was playing with her, and she knew it. But the animal instinct inside her had taken over and she wasn't reacting rationally.
With a blur of motion, he was suddenly in front of her, grabbing her wrists in one hand and pinning her to him with the other arm. She struggled for a minute, but stopped when sudden exhaustion racked her body. She deflated against him, whispering, "Make it quick, please."
He didn't move, and she looked up at his face. The silver had left his eyes, leaving only the icy blue ringed by violet. Jenny realized that somehow the storm had stopped and the almost-full moon had come out, illuminating his face and creating the illusion of bottomless depth in his eyes. He said nothing, but only stared at her, his face expressionless.
Suddenly confused, she asked, "What?"
Then he bent his head down and kissed her. Not a rough and angry kiss, but soft and sweet. She collapsed into the kiss, into herself. She could feel Damian's mind in hers like a caress on her cheek.
Damian?
I can't fight it, Jenny. It's too strong. I've tried, and . . . and it just doesn't work. I need you.
Suddenly, she could see herself as he saw her, small and dainty, but spirited and with an iron core. She danced through his mind like a breath of cool air, the light to his darkness. He had done terrible things – had enjoyed doing them – and hated for her to see them. But now he offered his memories to her, because he felt he had to and because he wanted her to see them.
Damian . . . This can't possibly work.
A dimming of the golden light she was awash in. We'll make it work. We have to.
But how?
I don't know.
And suddenly her feet were back on the ground. The wind was blowing through her hair and a hand stroked her cheek. She gasped and stepped back, staring at Damian in awe. The connection dimmed as she broke physical contact. Damian looked at her, a slightly confused expression on his face.
"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I can't."
He nodded, looking at the ground. "It's him, isn't it?" He threw an image of Michael across their waning connection. Michael, smiling at her in the moonlight, his curly hair hanging almost in one eye. An image taken from her own memories.
She frowned. "Yes."
He nodded again.
"I'm sorry," she repeated.
He shrugged. "You're right," he said. "It could never work." He said it casually, almost coldly, but the pain in his eyes gave him away.
"Are you going to kill me now?"
He snorted. "No. I told Ashton I'd help you get your friends back, and I always keep my word. I suppose killing you wouldn't be much help."
She gave a small smile. "No. In fact, it would probably ruin my day."
"Well, if you're willing to trust me, I have something you might like to see," he said, more serious than she'd ever seen him; all traces of previous arrogance were completely gone.
"I trust you."