Page 11 of Freak
“Granny Kate used to say it. It means don’t invite other people’s darkness in to turn your own life dim. I said it just now because I don’t want that one bad day, when some people felt compelled to do somethin’ bad to me, to change me or my life or my home. I’m not stayin’ home because I’m scared of what some stranger might do while I’m gone. I’m not hidin’ when I’m home, afraid somebody’ll do somethin’ while I’m here. I won’t live like that, and I’m sorry for anybody who feels they have to.”
Again he felt that kick of admiration in his chest, strong enough to be attraction, even desire. His hand was still on the table; with barely a thought, he caught hers and squeezed
“You’re a real special woman, Abigail.”
Her eyes dropped to his hand over hers and held there for a moment. Then, slowly, they came up to fix on his face. Their eyes locked, and the atmosphere in the room seemed to grow suddenly heavier, like the last second before a lightning strike.
When she began to slip her hand free, his hand clenched and held her fast.
He hadn’t meant to do that; it had been a reflex.
But now he couldn’t let her go.
Chapter Four
Abigail studied Mel’shand around hers. She didn’t know what to make of his reluctance to release her, or the fixed heat of his gaze, or the sudden potency of the atmosphere around them. Though her attention was not on his face, she felt his eyes burning a hole in her head—a heat that matched the fire flaring to life inside her. Was this—did he mean—could he be attracted to her?
People sometimes called her a witch, and she sometimes embraced the title, but sadly she had no supernatural talents. If she did, she might have been able to truly read Mel’s mind and understand what he was thinking and feeling right now. Alas, she could only use her powers of observation—perhaps a bit more acute than average, but still completely earthbound and mundane.
His hand was large and strong, the skin darkened by life and work outdoors. It was an earth hand, solid and square, the palm firm and the fingers substantial. An earth hand was perfectly consistent with Mel’s grounded personality.
That thought brought her a way to navigate this unexpected moment. She turned their hands over and held his palm up. With her free hand, she explored the topography of his fingers and palm, stroking lightly over the toughened flesh, tracing each mount and plain, each line.
“This here is your Mount of Jupiter,” she said, brushing a light circle over the skin just below his index finger. “This solid rise here suggests confidence and drive.”
He rolled his hand into a fist. “Don’t do that, Abigail.” He pulled away from her.
She looked up, feeling the sting of a different kind of heat in her cheeks. He’d withdrawn his hand all the way back, so it rested against his belly, like he was protecting it from further harm. His aura had taken on a flicker, light fighting shadow.
Never before had she tried to read him, or even suggested she might—and he hadn’t asked about it, either. Abigail didn’t make a habit of pushing her practices on people; she made them available for those who were interested. She’d only started reading Mel because when he’d clasped her hand, a whole grove of emotions had grown tall in her chest, dense and full of brambles, and she’d needed a redirection.
“I’m sorry,” she said at once. “I didn’t realize that would offend you.”
He shook his head. “I’m not offended. I just ... I don’t believe in all that.”
“All that?” Somewhere in the darkest reaches of her mind, her own offense began to flutter, but she shook it away. There was no reason at all to entertain bad feelings here.
