Terry Goodkind - The Law of Nines

By the way she kissed him back, he knew she felt the same.

Right then, right there, that feeling seemed complete. There could have been no better comfort in the face of all the difficulty they faced. No matter what happened, they were together. Somehow, that seemed more important, more wonderful, to him than anything else.

In a loose embrace, still fully dressed, they fell asleep.

Alex woke with a start. Jax, still in his arms, woke up when he did. In the muted, mellow light, it took a moment to remember where he was. Weak daylight leaked in around the curtain. The small light over the door around the corner of the bathroom was still on. He looked over at glowing red numbers on the clock on the nightstand. It was a little past seven.

Alex yawned. He wanted to go back to sleep. He wanted to keep holding Jax.

But he couldn’t. He needed to get the Cherokee over to the dealer and see if he could talk them into doing a rush job of replacing the starter. He figured that if he gave them a big tip up front it might help persuade them to hurry.

“Do I have time for a bath?” Jax asked.

“Sure, go ahead. I’ll run the truck down the street and leave it to get the starter fixed. That should give you plenty of time. We’re going to need to go out and pick up some supplies and hopefully by then the starter in the truck should be fixed.”

She rolled over on top of him. “Do we have time for another kiss?”

He pulled her into his arms in answer. Her hair slipped forward over her shoulders to fall around his face, as if even her hair wanted to be close to him. After a long, luxurious kiss she pushed back.

With a finger she brushed his hair back off his forehead. “I’ve never cared this much for anyone.”

“I know. Me neither.”

“Not even Bethany?” she said with a mischievous grin.

“Especially not Bethany,” he said without smiling before he pulled her back for another kiss.

When it ended she pushed back again. “What are we going to do about us?”

“What do you mean?”

She shrugged as her eyes turned away. “Well, I’m not from here. If I can find a way, I have to go back.”

She had just touched the agony that tortured him. Alex knew that he couldn’t ask her to turn her back on the people who were depending on her. He didn’t know what or who she was in her world, but he knew that she was someone important there, and that people needed her.

“What if there was a way for me to go with you?”

She sighed. “If only. . but you can never come to my world. There is no way that can ever happen. Without the spark of the gift that those of us there all carry, you can’t make it into my world. You would only die in the attempt. If you can work the gateway, you can’t use it. I can. With the gateway I would have a way to return home. I must. .”

Alex swallowed at the painful thought of her leaving his world, leaving him. “Maybe I won’t be able to figure out the gateway.”

“No hope of that,” she said with a sigh. “You’re Alexander Rahl.”

“Well, who knows. We may never have to worry about it.”

Her brow bunched together. “What do you mean?”

“If Cain has his way we’ll both die before then.”

Her smile returned. “You have a way of making me smile even when my heart is breaking.”

“Then you should at least give me another kiss.”

She did. It was a kiss that made the kisses before seem less than meaningful. It took Alex away, made him forget everything but her. It made him feel complete, as if he had never really been alive before that moment. In that moment he felt, for the first time in his life, sheer, perfect bliss.

Finally, she pulled breathlessly away. Alex didn’t think he would ever get enough of looking at her. She was the most perfectly feminine creature he had ever known. She was so beautiful it made him ache for her.

“So,” she whispered as she looked down into his eyes, “do we have time for more than a kiss?”

ALEX HAD BEEN correct — a hundred-dollar tip to the service writer got him an eager promise of prompt attention. Fearing to give the man the phony license because the registration for the Jeep was under his real name, he handed over his real driver’s license instead.

“All right, Mr. Rahl,” the man behind the small podium in the drive-in entrance said, “we’ll have you fixed and back to your vacation in no time. Is there a number where I can reach you?”

“Sorry, I forgot to recharge my cell phone last night. I’ll just check back with you after a while.”

“Give us a few hours and we should have it taken care of.” He pointed with his pen. “You can wait in the lounge, if you like, and I’ll come get you when it’s finished.”

“I have some errands to take care of. I’ll check back.”

“We’ll be here. You can get out the same way — through the lounge.”

Alex thanked the man and made his way past the line of other trucks waiting to be taken in for service. Out the open overhead door the leaden sky seemed like it was descending to smother the town.

As Alex went through the lounge the word “Hamburg” coming from the TV stopped him cold in his tracks.

The morning news anchor on the TV was giving a report about a massive fire at a hotel in Hamburg, Germany. The alarm system in the hotel had reportedly malfunctioned and the firefighters had problems getting adequate water to the site. Dozens of deaths were feared.

“Fifteen minutes later, in London,” the announcer said, “another tragedy struck when a runaway truck crashed into a crowd of people outside a busy train station. Sources say that as many as eleven people were killed with a number of others seriously injured. The driver fled the scene. Police are searching for him and hope to have him in custody soon. Authorities say it is the worst such accident in recent memory.”

Alex stood frozen, his mind racing, as he watched the international news for a few minutes more, waiting to see if they would say anything else, but they went on with stories about a global summit on world economic growth that leaders from the industrialized nations were scheduled to attend in Japan in the coming days.

Alex remembered the note that Hal had found with the maps in the room back in Bangor. It had listed two cities: Hamburg and London. The times written on that note had been for that morning, and they had been fifteen minutes apart. He knew without doubt that it was not a coincidence.

He hurried up the street, suddenly feeling the urgent need to get back to Jax. He rushed into the room and found her pacing. She had an envelope in her hand.

“The phone rang. I answered it. The person said that there was a letter at the front desk for Hank Croft. So I went to the office. They wanted identification. I showed them the thing that Mike Fenton made for me that shows my image and says I’m Jenna Croft. They gave me this.”

Jax handed him the envelope. On the outside was written “Mr. Hank Croft.”

Alex tore it open. Inside was a single folded piece of paper. He recognized the precise handwriting. It was the same as the handwriting on the paper Hal Halverson had found.

Jax bit down nervously on her lower lip as she watched him reading. “Well, what is it?”

“It’s a list of cities — Springfield, Scranton, Raleigh, Tampa, Mobile, Indianapolis, Fort Worth, Grand Rapids, Denver, Bismarck, Winnipeg, Provo, Sydney, Boise, Eugene, Mexico City, Bakersfield. It says ‘Now’ at the bottom.”

Alex’s hands shook as he lowered the paper.

“Do you know what it means?” Jax asked.

“I think I do, but I hope to hell I’m wrong.”

He switched on the TV. The images of confusion and screaming people hit him like a blow.