Page 49 of Kiss Across the Universe
Kit shrugged. “Until Iron Grey gives up.”
“How will you know he has? We’re out here.” With no Wi-Fi or convenient networks.
“I have friends. They’ll let me know.”
“Friends? Out here?”
He just smiled. “Trust me.” He went back to the pack and returned the contents, packing them with care, but not dawdling, either.
“Whyareyou doing this, anyway?” Alannah demanded. “You should have dropped the bison at the house and left. Instead you left Aran sitting around twiddling his thumbs andyoucame after Iron Grey. Why?”
“One,” he said, glancing at her quickly before returning his attention to the pack. “I didn’t know about the time travelling thing. Had I known that Aran is a jumper, I might have called it a different way. Two, you’re both American. I’m the Canadian, and the park warden. I can move a lot more freely in these parts that you can. And three, why the hell shouldn’t I want to help? I’m supposed to just stand by while you’re abducted?” He straightened, looking outraged at the idea.
Alannah shivered. “You know I could have jumped us both back to the house? There are…defenses there.”
He stared at her for a long, long moment. His eyes in the lowering light were veiled by shadows. “I don’t know about any defenses. I’ve never spotted them and I’ve been there dozens of time. I did think about jumping back there, but it’s not a good idea. Iron Grey will go back there. It’s the first thing he’ll do. He’d find us there. It would hem us in. We’d be under siege conditions.”
“Instead, he’ll go back there and find Aran,” Alannah said softly.
“Who can jump away.”
“So can I.”
Kit hesitated. “This way is better,” he said finally. “I can control things.”
“I’m not your responsibility,” she snapped.
Kit’s gaze didn’t let her go. “For right now, for as long as he comes after you, you are.”
“I can take care of myself!”
“And you’ve done it for way too long,” he replied with eerie calmness. “You’ve forgotten how to rely on people who care about you. I’m guessing that people who genuinely care are pretty rare in Hollywood.”
He bent and buckled the pack closed, then twisted and pulled it up onto his back and settled it in place. He didn’t ask her if she was ready. He just moved off into the lengthening shadows between the trees, his footfalls nearly silent.
Chapter Twenty
Alannah had been utterly wrongabout the night being cold and uncomfortable. Not long after sunset—true sunset—she found herself warm and dry and lying upon a soft mattress made of layers of cut underbrush covered by a rubber sheet that made her think of yoga mats. Even the air was perfumed, for Kit had added more wild sage to the fire.
He had located a fir branch hanging horizontally three feet above the ground, and had anchored the tip to the ground. Then he had propped the ends of other branches against it, just on one side, along the length of the branch. They had forced that side of the branch to tilt toward the ground, which formed a long, low shelter beneath it. He’d tied a plastic sheet over the top of all of it, making the shelter waterproof. Then he had built the “mattress” with soft fronds of undergrowth that looked like fine ferns, with the sheet on top.
All of this Alannah had watched in between gathering firewood and kindling and dumping it by the fir’s trunk.
After clearing out all the ground cover and leaf litter, Kit had built the fire, next. She had half expected him to rub a stick against another to start the fire, but he had pulled out an ordinary box of matches from his backpack instead.
As soon as the fire was blazing, he had unwrapped the bison leg and hung it on a stick over the fire to cook. In between turning the leg to cook evenly, he had rammed sticks into the ground on the opposite side of the fire and woven thinner branches between them. The wall was very efficient at reflecting the heat back toward the fire and the shelter that faced it, for Alannah could feel the warm air around her, bathing her face and hands.
She eyed the hefty bison leg and wondered how long it would be before she could eat it. She was starving, but she wasn’t going to bitch about it to Kit. She’d had visions of sleeping on prickly grass in the open, cold and uncomfortable in her thin leggings, to wake to find herself wet through from dew. Thanks to Kit, none of that would happen.
She even had a soft bed with a thick quilt, for Kit had unzipped and opened up the sleeping bag that had been strapped to the bottom of the pack and spread it over the mattress. “We sleep beside each other for warmth,” he’d told her. “But you’ll be perfectly safe.”
“I know,” she said, and she did. He exuded an indifferent competence, as if he was working through a list of necessary tasks. Had she upset him somehow? His mood had changed since they’d stopped to swap out her shoes.
Kit was digging around in the pack once more. He seemed to be looking for something specific. He made a small sound of satisfaction and pulled out a bright orange bag, that he tossed toward Alannah. “Something to eat while the meat is cooking.”
She caught the pack and held it up. “Cheezies?” She looked at him. “You had these in the pack… You eat this stuff?”
Kit stared back at her. “I like ‘em.”
