The Light Who Shines (24 page)

Suddenly hundreds of feathers drift over my head, sticking to
my hair and face. I whirl around, and Jack steps back with laughter in his
eyes. He stands there holding an empty pillowcase.

“Jack!” I glance around, seeing nothing close at hand but my
lingerie. I fold up a pair of panties and whip them at him.

Jack easily snatches them in mid air, smiling.

“Hey, now that is not fair!”

I scrunch up a bra and whip it at him. While he unfolds the
panties to admire them, the bra hits him in the face. He picks that out of the
air as it bounces off him. Seeing that my strategy needs to be altered, I take
a whole armload of underthings and throw them at his face. Jack laughs and
fends off the flying lingerie with his hands. Then I lean over the bed to grab
another torn pillow and shake it at him, but the feathers fall in a miserable
heap at his feet, so I ball up the rest of the pillow and throw it at him.

“Hey!” he laughs.

I grab another pillow and jump on the bed. I reach inside
the rip to grab handfuls of feathers and start tossing them up in the air over
Jack. Feathers stick out of his golden curls, and I start laughing as he makes
a game out of trying to catch individual feathers in the air. I laugh so hard I
am out of breath, and I plop down on the mattress. Jack smiles and sits next to
me with his hands on his lap.

We sit there silently for a while. Jack’s warm body just
inches from mine is so tempting that I have to forcibly keep myself from
leaning into him. To break the awkward intimacy, I say, “From the moment I came
into the apartment I sensed a violent rage and frustration. It covered every
inch of the apartment, and I don’t like feeling it. Unfortunately, that is all
I could glean.”

Jack turns to me and asks, “You okay?”

I reach out and gently squeeze his hand and look into his shimmering
green eyes. “Yes. I’m much better. At least the bedroom is filled with a feeling
of fun now. Thank you.” I give his hand one more squeeze, then hop off the bed
and start picking up my lingerie again. With Jack’s Vampire speed, we quickly
put the room to rights.

By the time we are done, my stomach is rumbling. I look at
Jack and ask, “Do you eat at all?”

Jack smiles and says, “Not food. But you are starving. I can
hear it from here. Let’s get you something to eat.”

“I don’t have any bagged blood for you. I’m sorry.”

Jack twitches his lips as though he has a private joke with himself
and says, “That’s fine. I had some before I came over.”

I wonder what he is laughing at. Ohh! To him I
am
bagged
blood. I should be more careful of what I say.

I head to the kitchen with Jack and Varg following close
behind. I put a small amount of kibble in the bowl and pour some of the
deworming medicine on it. Varg seems to like the taste because he wolfs it down.
When he’s done, I give him a small cut of beef from the freezer. Varg happily
brings his treat to the rag rug in the living room, which is a relief because
there isn’t enough room in my narrow galley kitchen for Jack, me, and Varg.

Jack leans against my kitchen wall, watching me, and says,
“It’s good you give him meat.”

“He’s a wolf. I figure he needs more than just kibble to
feel satisfied. I consider it an insurance policy.”

I look in my fridge and pull out some vegetables and
chicken. Jack reaches over me, grabs a knife, and quickly cuts up the meat
while I clean and cut up the vegetables. A splash of olive oil goes in the pan
with the heat turned on high. Just as the oil starts to waver, I throw all the
meat and vegetables in, stirring it quickly. Jack searches my cabinets, and
using Vampire speed, he sprinkles some spices in so fast I can’t see what he’s
using. When the food is done, I sit down at the table, and Jack somehow manages
to fold his long legs under my table too.

I look at him. “Isn’t this awkward for you, watching me
eat?”

Jack’s lips twitch again as he watches me. “Not at all. I’m
enjoying myself.”

I don’t know what else I can do. I have to eat, so I dig into
my chicken, broccoli, asparagus, and mushroom stir fry, and the savory flavors
fill my mouth. “Holy smokes! What did you put in here? It is so unbelievably
good!” I look up at Jack in surprise.

Jack smiles devilishly. “It’s a secret.” I give him my very
best pouty lower lip, but he only smiles wider and refuses to budge. I vow I’m
going to search through my spices to figure it out.

So I dig in. And I dig and dig and dig until only two bites
remain on my plate. I push my plate away in finality. “I can’t eat another bite.
I want to! It was so delicious. But I can’t.” Jack chuckles and stands up,
taking my plate and utensils to the kitchen. While I clear the rest of the
table, Jack quickly washes the dishes.

I sneak a peek at him while he stands at my sink drying my
plate. His tall form leans into the counter, and his big hands gently do the
work. I can see the hard curve of his butt cheeks through his trousers. My
belly does flips. He’s so handsome and so strong. It’s nice that he can be
domestic too. I never would have thought he was like this. My heart joins the
party by giving a little squeeze and pitter-patter. Jack looks over at me
curiously. I look back at the table I’m wiping, feigning nonchalance, I’m sure
I do it about as well as Jack does. Did he hear my heart go pitter patter?

Bluebell Kildare: May 29, 2022, Red Ages

It’s getting late by
the time we’re done cleaning up, so I ask Jack if he wants to come with me to
walk Varg. He obliges, and together we head out my green painted door.

The evening air has not yet cooled the mountainside down,
but a fog has rolled in. We walk through the white mist quietly together. Varg
takes the lead, and we follow behind. As we take in the foggy scenery, Jack
asks, “How do you like living here?”

“I love it,” I respond.” I’m close to Alexis and Maud, and
it’s just a few minutes’ drive to work. Plus the building is old and has
character, which I adore.”

Suddenly I realize I know very little about Jack, so I ask,
“Where do you live?”

“I have some land in the country not too far from here.”

My mind’s eye conjures up the vision of a lonely farmhouse
on some acreage.

As we continue walking, a peaceful silence enshrouds us more
tangibly than the mist. The night air is filled with only the sounds of my boots,
Varg’s nails softly tapping on the sidewalk, and the occasional song of a city
bird. Sometimes we hear a car go by and both Jack and Varg lift their heads to
inspect it. Two fearsome warriors walk next to me, and I’ve never felt safer.

After a few miles, Varg starts to lead us back toward home.
When we get close to the apartment, I ask Jack, “Do you want to see the amulet?”

Jack tilts his head as he considers this and says, “Yes. I
think I do. But I don’t think we should visit it again after this. Tonight the
mist will hide us, but whoever is looking for it may be watching you, and we
don’t want to lead him to it.”

I nod at this, as it makes good sense.

We walk up the wide, white cement steps and enter the
narthex of St. Michael’s Church. No one is there, so I peek into the nave.
Father O’Brennen sits on one of his pews as is his wont, writing rapidly in a
notebook. I stand there for a moment until he feels our presence and looks up
with a smile.

“Hello, Father. This is my boss, Jack Tanner. Jack, this is
Father O’Brennen.”

Father O’Brennen stands up and clasps hands with Jack in a
warm embrace. He says, “It’s good to see you again, Jack.” Then he looks at me.
“We know each other, though it’s been a long time.”

“Yes, it has,” Jack affirms.

This surprises me. I had no idea they knew each other,
though I suppose Jack is so old that he must know generations of Crimson Hollow
residents.

I see something unspoken pass between the two men, and then
Jack says, “We wanted to take a look at your bell room.”

Father O’Brennen smiles. “Sure. I’m about to retire. Please
go through the front and lock up behind you when you’re done.”

We say goodnight, and then I show Jack to the bell tower
door. The mist obscures the moonlight as we climb, so it’s very dark in the
stairwell. Jack walks behind me and puts a steadying arm on my waist. With no
light, the heat from his hand feels even more intense than usual.

After a moment, Jack gently pulls me to a stop and says,
“We’re at the ladder.” His deep voice softly reverberates through the stairwell
and through me.

I nod. “It’s just above.”

Jack turns toward Varg, who has been patiently trailing
behind us, and says, “Guard the landing.”

I hear Varg settle down close to the ladder.

Jack puts my hands on the ladder. “You first,” he instructs.

I proceed, acutely aware of Jack just behind me. He
certainly has an eyeful of my backside.

When I pull myself up to the bell room floor I scoot over,
and Jack climbs nimbly up after me. The moon reflects off the shifting mist,
giving us a low light to see by. I pat the floor next to me and scoot over to
where the rock is. Jack sits so close that his knee touches mine. It’s a tiny
space for two grown people, and his nearness ignites a smoldering flame in my
body that I try unsuccessfully to ignore. A quick peek at his emotions tells me
only that he has them tamped down securely now.

I count out loud so Jack knows exactly where the amulet is.
“One, two up. One, two, three over.”

I grasp the edges of the rock with my fingertips and slowly
start to shimmy it loose. Once Jack sees what I’m doing, he reaches over my lap
and places his hands on the top and bottom of the rock. As he does this, he
leans over me, and I inhale his musky male scent. He smoothly pulls the rock
out and sets it on the floor before leaning back again. I reach behind the rock
next to the opening, feeling around for the bag. I manage to pinch a corner of
it and carefully pull it out.

“This is it!” I announce as I hold the bag up.

Jack looks at it closely, examining the front and the back.
He looks at the thread, and he opens the bag and sniffs it. When he is done he
hands it back to me and says, “The craftsmanship is stunning.”

I’m not a connoisseur of fine metal craft, but even I can
tell that it’s magnificent. I carefully replace it and push the rock in again.

Jack seems satisfied. “That’s a good spot for it.”

Then he stands and offers his hand to help me up. I take it.
When we’re both standing I lean over the half wall, place my elbows on it, and
looking out over what I can see of the city. The neighborhood is shrouded in
mist, shifting and gliding over buildings, gathering thick in some places and
thin in others, an ever-changing kaleidoscope of misty city.

Jack stands next to me and asks, “So, how well do you know
Father O’Brennen?”

This question takes me by surprise because I’d thought to
ask the same question of him. “When I came of age and had to leave the
orphanage, Father O’Brennen let me stay in my apartment for a few months
rent-free until I got my first job.”

Jack asks, “Are you very religious?”

I laugh softly. “No. When I lived at the orphanage we would
come here to church, and at every opportunity I would escape services to come
up here to the bell room.”

The memories bring sadness through me that I try to swallow
down. Then I face away from Jack as I stare out into the rolling mist.

“You probably remember me telling you that when I was
younger,” I continue, “the kids at the orphanage thought I was an evil Witch
because of my birthmark and my gift. The housemothers called Father O’Brennen
in to evaluate me at one point, so at some level they must have actually
believed it could be true as well.”

When I say this, I feel Jack reach out his hand and tenderly
stroke my hair. I’m trying to keep my emotions in check, but his kindness makes
tears spill silently from my eyes. I keep my head turned so that Jack can’t
see. “He said I was perfectly normal.” Despite my efforts my voice comes out
broken.

Jack holds my chin and gently turns my face toward him. He
sees the tears, and I feel an overwhelming flood of emotion coming from him.
It’s like he’s kept himself in constant control, and just now I am finally
seeing the truth of him. He pours out empathy and kindness toward me. He gently
wipes at the tears on my cheeks with his thumbs, and he pulls me to him. I
willingly lean into his chest.

Jack murmurs, “Don’t cry, Blue.” And he gently kisses the
tear tracks on my face in a rain of tiny kisses. His kindness is so
overwhelming and his empathy so real it undoes me even further and I start
crying all the more. I lean my forehead into his chest, and Jack folds me in
his arms, holding my gently shaking shoulders. I feel his large, comforting hands
caressing my back soothingly as he murmurs, “Don’t cry, beautiful. Don’t cry,
beautiful Blue.”

I feel the warmth of his arms surrounding me and the comfort
of his solid chest and consoling hands. Slowly, bit by bit, I let my old hurt
and sense of betrayal flow out of me. Jack keeps his arms around me, soothing
me, and my sobbing subsides. It is an old pain. I’ve never told anyone about
that, not even Maud.

As I calm down I realize that my arms are about Jack’s
waist. Jack gently pulls me back, and he looks at me with such a look of
tenderness. He leans down and gently kisses one eyelid and then the other. Then
he goes back to the first eyelid and rains tiny kisses all along my lash line
from one corner to the other. His kisses are tender and as light as falling
snowflakes, yet they leave a trail of warmth in their wake. He has one arm
around my waist, holding me against him, and his other hand twines through my
hair as he leans over me.

His lips feather over my other eye in the same manner,
covering it in tiny, beautiful kisses, full of warmth and kindness. I savor the
feel of his lips against my skin and his arms around me, and I ache for more.
The heat of his mouth touches the tip of my nose and dips lower, until I feel
his warm breath hovering over my lips.

My whole body stills in anticipation with every nerve
singing, focused on the warmth of his lips over mine. Slowly, he lowers his
mouth, kissing one tiny corner and then the other with kisses as light as a
butterfly. He brushes both of his lips over my upper lip, gently, tracing its
outline. He moves to my lower lip, brushing it so softly with his in the same
manner, setting off a wild tingling sensation and cascade of warmth that leaves
my breast heaving for air.

Jack pauses with my lower lip lightly snagged between his,
and I dare to open my eyes. I see bottomless, vivid, green, swirling eyes
looking into mine intently. He opens his mouth and slowly, deliberately draws
my lower lip into his mouth, sucking gently, watching my eyes all the while.

I feel a rush of heat and liquid fire deep and low in my
core. Jack inhales roughly and groans. Somehow the realization comes through
the fog of my mind that he can smell that he is making me wet with wanting, and
he likes it. A low and unbidden moan escapes at that thought, and I reach for
Jack’s shoulder as my knees go weak. Jack pulls me against him, and I can feel
the hard length of him pushed up against my belly. I relish this evidence of
his arousal and the thought that I am causing it. Jack’s lips and tongue tease
at the seam of my mouth, and I willingly open up to him. His tongue immediately
claims my mouth, explores it, delving gently into every crevice, caressing me
from inside out.

I am filled not only with Jack’s tongue and am surrounded
not only by his hands and his body, but his desire also fills up the space
around me with an overwhelming force and soaks through me. I can feel his
desire and his pleasure at my touch just as I feel my own pleasure, and it
makes me desperate for more. Crazy for more.

I run my hands rapidly down Jack’s back and over his
buttocks. I can feel the steely hardness of his limbs under the fine fabric of
his trousers, but I’m frantic to feel his skin. Jack pulls me to the side and
presses me against the stone pier between the arches. His lips break from
kissing my mouth and start a fiery trail of kisses down my jawline and my neck
while holding my hips against him. I desperately glide my fingers up his chest,
searching for an opening in his shirt. My untrained hands feel his chest, and
my right hand runs across his nipple. Jack gasps in response, and I hone in and
do it all the more, drinking in the feel of his desire, feeling it escalate
with every stroke of my fingers. But I lose all thought as Jack slips his hands
under my shirt and deftly finds my nipples.

“Oh my God,” I moan as he rolls them between his fingers and
flicks them with his thumb.

Then he pulls my shirt completely off me and his mouth is on
the curve of my breast. I want, I want, I want so much. He slowly pulls a bra
strap down, running his finger under the edge of the cup, lowering it. He takes
my nipple fully into his mouth and gently suckles it. Oh my God. Liquid heat
rushes between my legs. I try to reach out for Jack’s shoulders, but my arm is
trapped by my bra strap. Jack pulls the other strap down, trapping my other arm,
and suckles my left nipple.

I vaguely realize I am moaning incoherently, what I don’t
even know. I have no knowledge of where I am or how I’m even standing. There is
only a disembodied me, and all of my focus is anchored on Jack. I must touch
him; I must get closer to him. I press my hips against his hard shaft, and I
vaguely hear him groaning and cursing. I rub myself against him and beg, “I
need more, Jack.”

Jack lifts me up, and I wrap my legs around him. He presses
his manhood into me in an undulating rhythm, rocking into me, pressing into me,
so gloriously, but somehow it is not enough. I reach up and kiss his mouth with
hunger, with an open-mouthed starvation.

Then out of the blue I hear a great fluttering sound inches
away from head. Somehow it penetrates though the whirl of my senses, and I turn
and open my eyes just in time to see a black crow flying away.

I suddenly feel Jack clamp down on his emotions again and
become perfectly still. It is like I was in the midst of a lush forest and have
been transported to a barren desert where I’m left parched and thirsty. The air
is so vacant and forlorn without his emotions filling it, and the emptiness
sucks the joy out of me as though I’ve entered the Abyss. The rest of the world
comes back to me in a painful rush. Jack still holds me, and my legs are still
wrapped around him, and my body still throbs and weeps for him, but he does not
move. He pulls his mouth away from mine, and I look at him. His eyes are still
molten green, but they are now behind shuttered eyelids, and the realization
causes my heart to twist.

He says, “It was just a crow.”

I let my legs relax, and Jack slowly lowers me to the floor,
still holding me close. He steps back a bit, taking his hips away from me, and
I feel utter desolation in their absence. My only consolation is the tightening
of his arms around me, holding me still against his chest.

As my mind returns to this world, I hear my breath coming in
heavy gasps. Jack carefully pulls my bra straps back up, one at a time, slowly
and tenderly but dispassionately. He hands me my gray t-shirt. With his low
voice cracking he says, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”