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"Well, one way or another, this whole thing's going to be over in a few days." |
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"I wonder how it's going to turn out." |
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"Even Paula didn't know that, and knowing, if you get my drift, is her stock and trade." |
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"I don't think she liked me very much," said Kyna. |
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Chuckling, she replied, "You don't really know me either, other than in the biblical sense." |
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Cyrus took her in his arms and held her close. He inhaled the scent of her hair, felt the rhythmical thrumming of her heart and listened to the steady snap-crackle-and-pop of the blood platelets bumping against each other as they raced through her veins. |
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Blood! he mused. It always comes down to blood. She is my blood. Blood will tell. Blood is thicker than water. |
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"Russ, you're hurting me." |
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He relaxed his grip but refused to let her go. He felt such an intense sense of devotion, of attachment to Kyna that it bordered on mania. He didn't understand his feelings, only recognized them for what they were. He stared over her shoulder at the pumpkin and the witch. |
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A few more days! Just gotta hang in there a few more days! |
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The next morning, Kyna suggested to Cyrus that he dress for hot weather. Then, after stopping for scrambled eggs and hash browns at McDonald's, they got on I-8 and spent the first three hours driving straight into the blinding glare of the emerging sun. Cyrus had not slept well. Strange images had slipped in and out of his dreams all night long. He couldn't remember the details, but the bits and pieces he did remember were disturbing. The silver she-wolf had been in one dream. She was on the mountain, but unlike in the past, the forest had been cold and wet and that strangely shaped peak had been partially obscured under a cap of black clouds. The she-wolf |
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