The Line

FIFTEEN

I ran for blocks, paying no attention to traffic or crosswalks, and when exhaustion overcame adrenaline, I walked. My subconscious mind was in charge, leading me south, and my conscious mind only clued in to my destination as I drew near Sackville, and the house that Peter had been renting since moving out of his parents’ place a couple of years ago. When I found myself standing before it, I realized that something had changed inside of me. I felt like a different woman. I went up the steps of the small, wooden-frame house and knocked on the door.

Peter opened the door wearing nothing but a pair of boxers. At first he just blinked at me, but then his mouth fell open. “What the hell?” he asked, reaching out to pull me in from the night. “Are you all right?”

I stumbled through the door and into his arms. I understood his surprise when I caught sight of my reflection in a wall mirror. My hair was standing on end, still electrified by Maisie’s power. My skin was as pale as death and giving off a faint blue glow. “Don’t tell Maisie I’m here,” I said, my voice sounding somehow wrong to my own ears. “Don’t tell any of them.”

“I won’t tell anyone anything,” he said. Putting a hand on each of my forearms, he held me back to look at me. His nose flared as if he could smell Maisie’s magic on me.

“Come on,” he said, guiding me gently to the couch. “Tell me what happened. Talk to me.”

“I don’t want to talk,” I said, and then I kissed him. I kissed him again. He pulled me tighter to him, and I breathed in his clean scent. I pressed my face against his chest, and kissed him there too. My tongue darted out and tapped his nipple. “I need you,” I marveled at the sudden urgency of my words. “I love you,” I said, and the words were true. At that moment what I felt for Peter was vivid and intense, and my feelings for Jackson seemed like something left over from a nearly forgotten dream. I wrapped my arms around his neck and went up on my toes. I coaxed his tongue into my mouth, and felt his growing stiffness press into me.

“Whoa, Mercy,” he said, forcing himself to gain control. “I love you too. God knows I do,” he said, his mismatched eyes fixing on mine. “I want this. I want it more than you could know. But something’s wrong. I can tell. If we do this now, you’ll regret it tomorrow.”

Looking into his eyes, I had one of those rare moments of clarity. “You’re right. There is something wrong. There are more things wrong than you can even begin to imagine,” I said. “But this. Us. There will never be anything more right in my life.” I kissed him hard and took him in my hand. He shuddered, and his eyes asked me the question his lips wouldn’t form. I nodded, and he swept me up into his arms, carrying me into his bedroom, to his bed. He laid me down gently and carefully lowered himself on top of me.

He propped his torso up on his arms and looked down at me hungrily. “This means something to me, Mercy. This means we belong to each other. I don’t want to do this if you have even the slightest doubt,” he said.

I looked up into his beautiful face. “No doubts,” I said.

He leaned in and kissed me deeply. “There’s never been anyone but you,” he whispered into my ear. “I’ve never,” he confessed quietly. “I’ve waited…” he said. “I hoped you…” I reached up and pulled his mouth from my ear to my lips.

Later, as Peter slept, I rested next to him, wrapped in his embrace. I closed my eyes and experienced a moment of the purest peace I had ever known. But as I started to drift off, I was pulled back from my dreams by the sound of Jilo’s dark cackle dancing in the air all around me. Then I knew that it was Jilo’s magic that had drawn me here.

Despite Peter’s nearness, I lay there silent and alone as my heart turned into stone and fell into the pit of my stomach.