Part 32 (1/2)

There was someone else out. Someone by the car. Someone in a haze created by the fog.

”Megan!”

She wasn't sure if she was really hearing her name, or if she was imagining the sound in her own mind. She couldn't tell who it was standing there, because he was wearing either a cape or a long winter coat. The stance seemed to be powerful, though, and provocative. She was tempted to move forward, to reach the figure as quickly as possible, throw herself upon his... power?

She started to move, but stumbled. No matter how strong the urge was to move forward, something was pulling her back.

Screw sanity and reason. She turned, ready to fly back to the hotel. Screw pride as well. Someone was going to walk her out.

But this time, as she ran, she did hear footsteps behind her. Coming closer, closer. She looked back. The dark form was gaining on her. It was a blue against the fog, and yet... it moved swiftly, coming nearer, nearer...

She kept running, suddenly sure that her life depended on her speed.

”Megan, Megan!”

This time, she was certain that she heard her name being called. She couldn't tell from where. It was as if she were running through a sea of thick, silver-blue soup.

She could feel him... it... something... behind her. As if tentacles of fiery breath were reaching her, stroking down her hair, touching her, trying to get a grip.

She screamed out loud, for suddenly, it seemed that the form was in front of her, it, or another dark shadow, rising from the mist. She didn't even know which direction she faced anymore, the fog was so dense. Not dark, like the ebony of the night. Blue.

Swirling, though now, there was still no rustle of trees. Nothing picked up a breeze that should have cast dead leaves scurrying as it made the fog twist and whirl.

Spinning again, she choked back a cry. There were eyes in the mist. Burning. Gold, red, pinpoints of fire.

Eyes...

Eyes she had seen before. Eyes that had haunted her dreams, her sleeping...

Her awakening?

Headlights, flashlights... something else. No!

Eyes!

She turned to flee, not knowing her direction, just determined to fly in the opposite direction of those eerie points of light and fire.

Her lungs seemed to burst, her calves to rage with pain.

Hands... fingers... something real, was upon her, branches, reaching into her hair, trying to wrench her back.

”No!”

The fog was whispering her name; it was as if the fog itself had taken life. And the touch... it wasn't real, couldn't be real...

But she felt it!

Felt hands reaching for her, wrapping around her, but they weren't there, they weren't real, the figure was still just behind her, coming closer and closer...

”Megan!”

”No!”

The darkness, real, imagined, fog... substance... was reaching around her.

”No!”

It was behind her...

It was before her.

The dark form before her was now...

Racing straight toward her, a thundercloud in sweeping ebony, coming down... down... nearly on top of her.

She spun to run the other way.

Yet there, in the blue-gray shadow of fog, was the figure that so nearly touched her... touched her with icy cold, fingerlike breath.

She spun again, and screamed.

Chapter 14.

The dark form before her sailed by. She heard the thud of a collision, or someone falling to the pavement. She cried out again, spinning around.

Almost immediately, the fog began to thin. She could see the hotel, so close in front of her now. She could see the first tree in its aligned spot in the parking lot.

A dark figure on the ground...

Rising.

Her breath caught, she backed away, ready to scream again, run pell-mell for that entrance which now loomed so close before her.

”Megan!”

Finn, breathless, his voice very deep, husky. It was him on the pavement. He was stumbling to his feet. ”Megan, you're all right?”

”Finn!” She ran to him. The cape he had borrowed from Morwenna's shop was covered in dirt and dead autumn leaves. He rested his hands on his knees as he caught his breath. His dark hair was wildly astray; a few leaves were caught in it as well. The instinct in her heart had taken over; she didn't even pause to reflect on the fact that he might have been really hurt. She threw herself at him, almost hysterical in her relief that he was alive and moving.

”Megan, Megan!” His fingers moved gently over her hair as he cradled her closer, just holding her. As last he pulled away, anxious to see her. She tentatively reached to his head, drawing away a leaf.

”Are you all right?” she asked anxiously.

”Fine. Well, bruised and a little embarra.s.sed, since he got away. But otherwise... fine.”

”Finn,” she murmured, leaning close against the beating of his heart once again. ”You're always there for me... even tonight. You were there for me.”