Кей Хупер: Hiding in the Shadows

"I don't want you to go," he repeated slowly.

She had to look up then, and met his gaze with a sensation of being stripped naked of more than her clothing. Even more slowly, In a tone of realization and reluctance and acceptance, he said, "I ... don't ... want you to go."

Don't question. Not yet. Not now.

Faith was on her feet before she realized she was going to move, and he was turning toward her, putting his hands on her shoulders.

"I didn't plan this," she said.

"I know. Neither did I."

"I ... I'm not ... I couldn't stay if it was only because..."

"It isn't."

Faith pulled breath into lungs starving for air. "Are you sure? It's only her red polish, her earrings, but I'm not..."

Kane lowered his head and covered her mouth with his. She heard a broken sound, and realized it came from her, from deep inside where something had let go. She felt the hardness of his body against hers, felt her fingers slide into his hair and her mouth come alive beneath his, and there was something so familiar and intimate and wildly arousing in his touch, his kiss, the strength of his arms around her, that she wanted to cling to him with all her might, all her will.

"You'll stay," he muttered against her lips.

"Yes."

He raised his head and stared down at her, gray eyes molten. He framed her face with his hands, and she could feel them shaking.

Fierce, he said, "I won't be so careful this time, do you understand? I won't bite back what I want to say because I'm afraid it isn't what you want to hear. I won't stop myself from touching you because I'm not sure you want to be touched. And most of all, I won't let you shut me out of the parts of your life that matter to you."

Faith reached up to touch his face. "I love you."

He caught his breath, then kissed her again, his mouth hard now, insistent. He lifted her, carried her from the living room to the bedroom.

She was hardly aware of being set on her feet beside the bed, of helping him pull off her sweater and slide the pants down her legs. She was unbuttoning his shirt, tugging it from his pants, and gasped when his hands pushed aside her bra and held her breasts. Her hands fumbled, but she managed to push his shirt off his shoulders, unfasten his pants. She touched him and heard his indrawn breath, felt the spiraling tension inside both of them wind even tighter. Touching him was necessary; it fed the starving need inside her.

"Ali, God," he muttered, hoarse and desperate. They were on the bed somehow, the covers thrown clothes scattered. The lamp let them see, but their hands saw more, moving everywhere, shaping and fondling and caressing. Lips never more than a whisper apart. Bodies straining to be closer, to merge, to meld. He felt so right to Faith. So right touching her. So right inside her, filling an emptiness she hadn't known was there, claiming that part of her for himself.

"I love you," she whispered, and knew she always had.

"So I guess it's all over now," Dinah said.

"I guess so. "

"Puzzle completed, treasure found. Bad guys vanquished."

"You might have been more help," Faith accused.

Dinah smiled. "It had to happen the way it happened. Things do, you know. So don't feel bad."

"About Kane?"

"You love him. I wanted to, but ... I couldn't, not the way he deserved."

Faith was surprised. "Why not?"

"Because I knew what was going to happen to me. I'd known for a long time."

"Couldn't you change it?"

"No. Like I said. Things have to happen the way they happen. And there was you. I knew as soon as we met that you'd play a part in all of it. I just didn't know how."

"Its my fault, what happened. I'm sorry."

"I'm not."

Faith was surprised. "No? But..."

"When you come to the end, you understand what's really important." Dinah looked at her intently. "You understand."

"But all the pain. The fear. I'm sorry you had to go through that."

"As I said, things have to happen the way they do."

"But I'm sorry you died." Dinah seemed to hesitate, then said, "Something always has to die so that something else can live. You do understand that, don't you?"

Faith began to feel uneasy. "Yes, but ... I remember now, you said once you found the Macguffin, you wouldn't be dead anymore."

"Yes, that's what I said."

"But..."

"I'm not dead, Faith. I never have been, not really. You're the one who's dead."

Faith stared at her, at the odd little smile, the compassionate blue eyes. She reached out instinctively, and froze when Dinah reached out as well. After a moment, Faith forced herself to go on, to stretch her hand slowly toward Dinah's.

When their fingers touched, she felt the cool, smooth surface of a mirror.

Faith opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling. She was wide awake, so wide awake that she felt as if she'd never sleep again. Slowly, she turned her head on the pillow and looked at Kane. He slept with the absolute stillness of utter exhaustion, muscles totally relaxed. It was no wonder. This was probably the first decent night's sleep he'd been granted in weeks.

And, of course, they had made love until nearly dawn, again and again, unable to get enough of each other. She thought he had memorized the texture of her skin, and she was certain she would always know him, forever, even In total darkness. Carefully, she eased out from under his arm and sat up on the side of the bed. The clock on the nightstand said it was just after eight-thirty.

She made sure he was covered and still sleeping deeply, then gathered her things and slipped from the bedroom. She took a shower, allowing the hot water to ease the ache of muscles unaccustomed to lovemaking, to all the unusual exertions of the day before, then dressed and went to the kitchen.

His special blend of coffee. She stared at the bag for a moment, then dumped an approximate amount into the filter, poured water into the top chamber, and waited for it to drip through to the pot below. When it was ready, she fixed a cup with her customary load of cream and sugar, then carried it into the living room. She looked at her bare wrist, then grimaced slightly. No watch, ever, because they never wanted to keep running for her. Somebody had told her once that it was the magnetic or electrical field of her body. Faith's body.

The clock on the VCR said quarter after nine. She picked up the phone and called the hospital, asking them to page Dr. Burnett for her. He was there, of course. Even early on Saturday, he was there.

"Faith is anything wrong?" His voice held a bit of an edge and it took her a moment to remember their last meeting.

"There's something I need to ask you," she replied, sweeping his anger aside.

"What is it?"

"Before I came out of the coma, did you believe I would?"

"Faith, I told you how unusual I..."

"You know what I'm asking you."

He was silent for several moments, but her patient waiting seemed to drive him to answer finally. "There are certain criteria we use to determine patient viability. Certain minimum levels of brain activity, for instance..."

"Was I below those minimum levels?"

"Faith, there's no absolute in medicine."

"Was I below the minimum levels?" she repeated steadily. "Was I considered a viable patient with a future?"

"No," he said, then hurried on. "But there was a flicker of brain activity, and I'd told Miss Leighton on her last visit that there was always a chance. I'd seen some remarkable things ... and you were breathing on your own, so of course there was no question of..."

"... of "Nobody was going to unplug anything?" Faith finished, her voice shaky now.

"No, of course not. And Miss Leighton refused to give up hope. She was very upset when she left that last day, but still determined. I've never seen anyone so determined to save another person. If strength of will could have done it, you would have awakened that day. As it was, only a couple of weeks passed before you did." He paused. "It's a shame she never knew she was right."