A Dream Of Stone And Shadow Part 6

"It means that some humans have stronger natural s.h.i.+elds than others. It's unusual, but not unheard of."

Yeah, but why them? They're, uh, not special, are they?

"You mean, gifted? Nonhuman? It's an interesting thought, but I don't think that's the case in this situation."

It would be easier if it was. Emotionally, that is.

"Because you don't like to think of human nature being so inherently cruel?" Warmth spread around Aggie's body, rolling down her arms, lacing through her fingers.

"Yes," she breathed.

"Oh, Agatha," he whispered. "There is nothing in this world that is born truly evil, and maybe it's easier to pretend otherwise, to cast some blame and make it easy on ourselves, but that would be wrong. Evil is everywhere, just the same as goodness, and every living creature has the potential for both."

And choice is the catalyst?

"You tell me. You live your life by probabilities, which are not definitive outcomes."

The future is a tricky thing, Charlie. You can predict probable outcomes based on the current nature and leanings of an individual, but if that individual changes in any substantive, or even minor, way, the future is irrevocably altered and the probabilities s.h.i.+ft once again.

"In other words, choice defines us. Every choice, little or big."

Good or evil.

"Or the slippery slopes in-between." Aggie felt the warm pressure around her body tighten. Her heart beat a little faster. Her ear suddenly felt hot and she sighed. Charlie whispered, "I didn't see many variations of the two of us."

Probable futures are defined by choice, remember?

"Then I suppose we'll be saying yes to each other quite often."

Aggie said nothing. Despite the bizarre circ.u.mstances, being held like this was not at all frightening. It felt good. Which was also strange, unreal, because it had been years since she had felt arms around her, and she had forgotten how nice it was-even if the person doing the holding was invisible and not quite human. Whatever that meant.

"Are you going to push me away again?" he breathed into her ear.

Maybe later.

"Okay," he said; and Aggie bit back a gasp as his warmth spread through her stomach, pus.h.i.+ng up and up. She felt his hands-those invisible ghostly hands that were nothing but heat-ride high on her ribs, tracing her body, skimming the undersides of her b.r.e.a.s.t.s.

Apparently clothes meant nothing; he could pa.s.s right through them.

"If you want me to, I'll stop."

She almost said yes, her maybe later turning into get away from me now. Asking Charlie to stop touching her was the logical, smart thing to do. She did not know him, she knew she should not want him, and even if she did, Jesus Christ, they were on a plane. Instead, Aggie found herself sinking deeper beneath the blanket. She wondered if anyone was watching, what they thought.

Charlie said, "They think you've got the stomach flu." And then the heat covered her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, and she bit down on her lip to keep from crying out.

"Yes or no, Agatha?" His voice was so close it was as though she could hear him inside her head. She wondered briefly if that were not the case, if they weren't speaking mind to mind.

I'm sure you know that I haven't done this for awhile, she told him.

"h.e.l.l," Charlie said. "I can't even get a date."

Aggie smothered a laugh, and just like that, heat began rippling over her skin, pressure easing and deepening, warmth kneading into her body, and she forgot how to speak because one hand moved lower, pa.s.sing over her stomach, pressing between her legs, burrowing like a thread of fire.

She tried not to squirm, to cry out, but some sound escaped and her body s.h.i.+fted, and she said, Charlie, and she imagined he said her name but the blood roared loud in her ears and the pressure tightened, spinning her up, throwing her wide, and she remembered her future with eyes closed and mouth open, groaning like every nerve was being tugged and stroked and sucked, and she thought, Yes, I understand now.

She came hard-the hardest and longest of her life, and her body jerked so violently she thought for sure the people around her must realize, but Charlie said, "No, they don't. Just relax and enjoy." And she did.

Again, and again, and again.

Making love to a beautiful woman while in a non-corporeal form had its benefits. Namely, the exotic and very public locations one could perform such acts; such as airplanes, bathrooms, the edge of baggage carousels, the lines at rental car stations-and in rental cars themselves. While parked, of course. Charlie had never been much of a ladies' man-for obvious reasons-but he found himself having an indecent amount of fun giving Agatha surprise o.r.g.a.s.ms everywhere she went.

His enjoyment was short-lived, though. Guilt weighed him down. Emma was still locked in darkness.

And yet, to see the woman beside him, hear the glow of her thoughts, the warmth she reciprocated inside her heart... it was a beautiful thing. And yes, fun.

"You're killing me," Aggie said, gasping as she sat in the driver's seat of her rented Taurus. "I barely made it out of that airport alive. I thought the security guards were going to arrest me. Or call an ambulance. I almost needed a wheelchair to make it this far."

"You did very well hiding your reactions," Charlie said. "After the fifth or sixth, you just looked... constipated. Maybe a little faint."

Aggie shook her head and he felt her embarra.s.sment, her disbelief and wonder. "I can't believe this. I just had a public orgy with a disembodied gargoyle."

"It is one for the books," Charlie said, feeling rather satisfied with himself. Aggie's eyes narrowed.

"You don't mean that literally, do you?"

"Of course not. I'm a gentleman."

"Right. That explains the complete lack of inhibitions."

"And I suppose I was doing it all by myself, completely uninvited?"

"No," she said, after a moment that stretched too long for comfort, during which he listened to her mind replay the events of the last several hours. "I suppose not."

Her agreement did not make him feel better; he could sense her embarra.s.sment turning into shame, confusion, and he wished very much that she would not feel that way about what had just pa.s.sed between them.

"The rules change when you're invisible," he told her. And when you're next to the most beautiful intelligent woman you've ever met in your entire life.

Charlie wanted to tell her that, too, but was afraid of what she would say. He had been taking liberties with her mind; curling deep inside it, trying to better understand her heart and soul. Understand, too, why he was becoming so enamored with her. Everything he saw only made his feelings intensify until all he could feel was an ache in his heart, a burn, like the insides of his chest were swimming through fire.

Not that there was anything he could do about it. Just take what he could, appreciate what time he had, and hold it dear. Because even if things were different and he truly had a chance of happiness with the woman beside him, one wrong move could end it all. Charlie already knew that he should tread lightly; Aggie had a heart of deep pa.s.sion, but it scared her, what she felt. When Aggie loved, she loved with all her being, every fiber. But to let go like that, no matter what had just occurred between them-to throw herself on the mercy of a stranger-a strange creature, at that-would require time and patience and the continued example of his good devoted heart.

Because she had it, his heart. He could not imagine another person he would rather give it to, and this, after along life spent alone, judging and finding want, always holding himself back from others. Love at first sight; he had thought it a fairy tale.

Not anymore.

Stupid. This will never work. You're locked in a cage half a world away. Your body will never be hers to hold. She will never see you in the flesh, and one day, when the witch grows tired of your dying, she will find some other use for you, and you won't ever see Agatha again. How dare you fall in love-now, of all times? How dare you want her to love you, knowing what you do? And even if by some miracle you could be together, you are both so different. You aren't even human. You have no idea if she would love your true face.

The odds were insurmountable, the risks unimaginable; but looking at Agatha as she started the car, listening to the hum of her thoughts as she settled down to the business of Emma-We are going to save you, kid, just hold on, hold on, hold on-made him want to leap headfirst and challenge it all.

What a sap, said a little voice. Your brothers would laugh if they could see you now.

Well, fine. He could live with that.

"Emma's in Darrington?" Aggie said, checking the map. "That's about a couple hours away."

"Do you have a plan for getting her out?"

"Nope," she said. "Though whatever I do will depend a lot on your ability to do some recon for me. Otherwise, I'll just have to walk up blind and get myself invited inside. Not impossible, but I prefer knowing what's waiting for me."

"Equipment, mostly. Cameras, lights. All in the living room."

Aggie frowned, backing out of the parking spot. "And no one questions that when they come over? If they're that respected in the area, they must socialize. Word of any weird goings-on gets around in small communities. Trust me."

"Firsthand experience?"

"Yup. When I was growing up, I couldn't get away with anything in my neighborhood. I kind of stood out."

"In a beautiful way, I suppose," he said, deciding to be bold.

Aggie glanced at him, following the direction of his voice. A smile tugged on the corner of her mouth. She liked that. He could hear it in her head. "Only my parents said that while I was growing up. Said it and meant it, that is."

"Why did they raise you in that town if it was so prejudiced?"

"My dad had a niche, and he thought we needed the money. Tough skins, that's us. He was the only lawyer in that area, and people didn't have much choice but to come to him for help. And he looked like what people in that area expected, so he didn't have much trouble with locals. One bit Navajo, and a whole lot of Scottish and French. My mother, on the other hand, was the dark one. Jamaican, Mexican and Irish." She smiled. "I need to marry someone Asian, and then my children can make the Census Bureau insane."

Charlie said nothing. He wondered if humans and gargoyles could make babies together. He wondered, too, if that would be right or fair to the child.

She wanted to know where he was from. Inside her head, she asked. She asked for much more, but there was only so much he could tell with the time they had. And words, ultimately, were meaningless.

"I spent my childhood in the country," he said quietly. "I was born in Maine, close to the border. It was very quiet back then, but-"

"Back then?" Aggie interrupted. "How old are you?"

He could see her imagining him as some ancient lumbering creature-replete with all the necessary accessories like white hair, wrinkles, and incontinence-and said, "Stop that. My kind age slower than humans, that's all. I'm only sixty."

"Only sixty?"

"Closer to thirty of your years, if that makes you feel better." And he knew immediately that it did.

Aggie chewed her bottom lip, which was very kissable, and oh so impossible to touch in the way that Charlie wanted. Trying to ignore her mouth, he said, "When I was a still child-or at least, a child as my people define it-I was sent into the city. Gargoyles need to learn integration at a young age. We're naturally solitary, but forcing ourselves into areas of high population enables us to suppress the urge to hide. It's better that way. In the city, people don't notice if you're a little... strange. It's free anonymity."

"Free loneliness, too."

"You know what it's like to have secrets, Agatha. Sometimes what you try to hide takes over your life. It becomes your life. Or in my case, it was my life, from the day I was born."

"Was?"

"Finding Emma shook things up. Changed my priorities. Or maybe just reawakened my true nature."

"Which was what?"

He wanted to smile. "Protecting others."

"You say that like it's something funny."

"Because it is, in a way. I never used to think about what I could do for others. Not really. I was too caught up in staying anonymous."

"Helping people is dangerous," Aggie agreed. "For anyone, it's dangerous. You open yourself up, physically and mentally."

"I suppose. I don't regret it, though. Not at all."

"You can't be faulted for n.o.bility."

"Just as long as it doesn't expose us. Something I think you understand."

Aggie smiled. "It's the Dirk & Steele creed: Help others, no matter what, and keep the secret safe. All because it's a big bad world, and we're just too different to be left alone if anyone should find out the truth."

"How did they find you?"

"Don't you already know?"

Money, he thought, but said, "I like to hear you talk."

"Awfully friendly all of a sudden, aren't you?" Aggie had a sly glint in her eye.

"Something has come over me," he admitted. "I've turned into a wild beast."

A low laugh escaped her. "It was money. I was stupid and needed to pay for college. I thought I could play the lottery and get away with it. Problem is, I see multiple futures. The more time between the present and the future I'm trying to predict, the more variations there are, which meant I had to play the specific numbers almost minutes before they were announced. I won, too. Cashed in a cool million."

"But some questioned it."

"Yes. The investigating officials never could prove anything, but it got my name in the papers. About a week after that, I received a call from Roland." She shook her head. "I thought the man was on crack, but he knew things... things about me he couldn't, and then once he introduced me to the others and showed what they were all about..."

He saw her memories, shared her doubts and awe, and then, later, her love for all those people in her life who were friends, close as family.

"You're happy with them," he said, feeling wistful.

He was close to his brothers, but not like this. Never like this.

"Happier than I ever imagined I could be. I don't know what I would have done if I hadn't gotten hired. If I hadn't been pointed in a direction that helps people."

"You would still have done good," Charlie guessed.

"I don't know," Aggie said. "Really, I don't. Choices, Charlie. I would have made choices I'm not sure I would have been proud of down the line. The future allows for second chances, alternate paths, but once you fall into the present and the past, that's it. No going back."

It was not safe for Charlie to materialize, not with so many cars around, but he wished for at least the semblance of a physical form so that he could pretend to sit with her in this car, in the flesh. "My father once said that it's our inability to change the past that helps us make better futures."

"He's an optimist."