I’d sworn never again. And even though it was the hardest thing in my life to resist, we had never done it again.
This…this was what was left to us. One minute at a time. And that only sparingly. Once a week we could endure. Better only once a month. But we’d found meeting in a graveyard made it easier, staying near the route helped, too, and if the moon was out, that was three pluses in our favor.
“I tried to reach the journal, and the magic blasted me on my rump. I blacked out. I’m fine, Lu, love, I’m fine.”
But she kissed me, nodding as she did so, telling me more, telling me everything as our seconds counted down.
“Be careful with the journal,” I said, knowing she’d find a way to retrieve it. “If the hunter’s smart, that might be what he’s after.”
“I’ll talk to Dot. Stella can talk to me.”
“She wants it personal.” I hated this, what I was asking her. To allow another person, another soul, to step into her body and exist there, under her skin, seeing her memories, her fears, her joys, and her shame.
Jealousy and hot anger burned steady inside me, but that would have to wait. I had had years and years to get used to being angry about this curse. Years to rail against every thing and person who could touch Lu, laugh with her, talk to her, know her.
Jealousy was an old friend.
“I can do it,” she said. “It’s fine. Just let me know what the trick is to get the journal. If it’s that strong, I can get half a year’s wages out of Headwaters.”
“Five,” I said. Five seconds. “I love you.”
“I love you.”
Then we kissed, soft and slow, need and desire, a promise. The same promise we always made. This wasn’t the last time. We would touch each other again. We would have each other again.
For more than a minute.
For a lifetime.
Until our last breaths.
The cold stabbed, ice cracking my skin, biting at my bones. But her lips were the sun, her body the world, and I held her until the final second fell away.
Lu’s thumb, my thumb over it, pressed down on the pocket watch’s stem.
Just like that, my arms were empty, even though Lu was still there, her arms around me, her breathing carefully steady, as if she were fighting not to scream. A single tear glinted on her cheek, diamond bright in the moonlight. I brushed it away, but my thumb was insubstantial, ghostly, nothing.
I forced myself to step backward, my hands dropping away from the woman I loved.
“I love you, Lula Gauge.”
“I love you,” she whispered, her eyes finding me, holding mine with that fierce light. It was a promise, a threat. She wasn’t giving up on us. I wasn’t allowed to give up on us either.
As if I ever could.
Chapter Eleven
Sunshine’s shop was busier than I expected for a Saturday. He got rid of Doug’s car and sent Doug himself packing.
Doug was furious and said he’d never use Fisher’s Auto again. Sunshine told him that was the idea.
Four other vehicles arrived for a variety of maintenance and repair.
Sunshine was pleased with the business, though he kept glancing out the front windows as if he were expecting someone.
That someone was Jo. She’d left right before dawn to get the new modem and other equipment from the main office in Springfield. She hadn’t returned yet.
But it wasn’t Sunshine, his employees, or the stream of customers I was paying attention to.
