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Burnt Offerings :: Гамильтон Лорел
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"How?" I asked.
He took my hand in both of his, and this time I let him. He drew my hand to Nathaniel. He rested my fingertips on Nathaniel's forehead. His skin was cool. Just the touch of his skin, and you knew he wasn't well.
"Pet him," Stephen said.
I looked at him, shaking my head. I drew my hand back, "I don't think so."
Nathaniel started to say something, but Stephen put his fingers across his mouth. "No, Nathaniel." It was almost like he knew what the other man was going to say. But he couldn't know, not for sure, could he? I might have believed it if Nathaniel was pack, but he wasn't.
"Close your eyes," Stephen said.
"Uh-huh," I said.
"We don't have time for this," Kevin said.
"He's right," Teddy said. "I understand your natural reluctance, but the police are going to knock on the door eventually."
If Nathaniel couldn't leave with us, that meant leaving people behind to guard him, which put people in danger again. If we were all somewhere together, at least we wouldn't be endangering innocent policemen, though most cops would wince at being called innocent.
I took a deep breath and blew it out. "Fine, what's your idea?"
"Close your eyes," Stephen said.
I frowned at him. He looked patient, long-suffering even, and I closed my eyes. He took my hand in his, and it wasn't until he began to gently open my fist that I realized I'd clenched up. He started to massage my hand.
I said, "Stop that."
"Then loosen up," he said. "It won't hurt."
"I'm not afraid it will hurt," I said.
He moved around to stand in back of me, so close the hem of his gown brushed my legs. "But you're still afraid." His voice had dropped almost to a whisper. "Can you use that fear to call power?"
My pulse was hammering in my throat, and I was afraid, but it wasn't the right kind of fear. The fear that overwhelms you in the midst of an emergency can call power almost without effort. This was the kind of fear that keeps you from jumping out of perfectly good airplanes even though you'd decided to do it. Not an unhealthy fear, but it would hold you back.
"No," I said.
"Then let go of the fear," he said. He touched my arms gently and sat me on the edge of the bed.
Nathaniel made a small protesting sound, as if it had hurt.
I opened my eyes and Stephen said, "Close them." It was the closest thing to an order I'd ever heard him give. I closed them.
He took my hands and laid the tips of my fingers on either side of Nathaniel's face.
"How?" I asked.
He took my hand in both of his, and this time I let him. He drew my hand to Nathaniel. He rested my fingertips on Nathaniel's forehead. His skin was cool. Just the touch of his skin, and you knew he wasn't well.
"Pet him," Stephen said.
I looked at him, shaking my head. I drew my hand back, "I don't think so."
Nathaniel started to say something, but Stephen put his fingers across his mouth. "No, Nathaniel." It was almost like he knew what the other man was going to say. But he couldn't know, not for sure, could he? I might have believed it if Nathaniel was pack, but he wasn't.
"Close your eyes," Stephen said.
"Uh-huh," I said.
"We don't have time for this," Kevin said.
"He's right," Teddy said. "I understand your natural reluctance, but the police are going to knock on the door eventually."
If Nathaniel couldn't leave with us, that meant leaving people behind to guard him, which put people in danger again. If we were all somewhere together, at least we wouldn't be endangering innocent policemen, though most cops would wince at being called innocent.
I took a deep breath and blew it out. "Fine, what's your idea?"
"Close your eyes," Stephen said.
I frowned at him. He looked patient, long-suffering even, and I closed my eyes. He took my hand in his, and it wasn't until he began to gently open my fist that I realized I'd clenched up. He started to massage my hand.
I said, "Stop that."
"Then loosen up," he said. "It won't hurt."
"I'm not afraid it will hurt," I said.
He moved around to stand in back of me, so close the hem of his gown brushed my legs. "But you're still afraid." His voice had dropped almost to a whisper. "Can you use that fear to call power?"
My pulse was hammering in my throat, and I was afraid, but it wasn't the right kind of fear. The fear that overwhelms you in the midst of an emergency can call power almost without effort. This was the kind of fear that keeps you from jumping out of perfectly good airplanes even though you'd decided to do it. Not an unhealthy fear, but it would hold you back.
"No," I said.
"Then let go of the fear," he said. He touched my arms gently and sat me on the edge of the bed.
Nathaniel made a small protesting sound, as if it had hurt.
I opened my eyes and Stephen said, "Close them." It was the closest thing to an order I'd ever heard him give. I closed them.
He took my hands and laid the tips of my fingers on either side of Nathaniel's face.