Back at their cabin in Apgar, Madeline went through the ritual of checking windows and doors about six times. She was still hungry, even after their cold, slimy omelets, which were definitely not “great” as Noah had claimed before. Neither had eaten much of theirs, deciding to pick up something else on the way home.
Noah had gotten them sandwiches at the little camp store. Madeline believed hers was tuna salad but wasn’t entirely convinced. Noah’s, on the other hand, was clearly ham, or possibly turkey. They munched on the flabby white bread, which was soaked with a white, tangy, unnamed sandwich dressing, and chewed at the wilted lettuce bits. It wasn’t the best meal she’d ever had, but it was at least better than the grease-laden omelet.
Already the bruises on Noah’s face had faded, and she could only see them because she knew where to look. The cuts on his neck and stomach had completely closed, and the gash on his leg was nothing more than the faintest red line.
“Your healing powers are amazing.”
He nodded. “One of the benefits.” He grimaced at the food. “This isn’t very satisfying. What a bad night for food. Nothing seems to taste very good.” After a moment, his face brightened. “Say! What if we rob one of those metal bear lockers that campers are required to put their food in?”
She stared at him in wonder, sandwich wilting in her hand, the tuna dripping onto the table, looking for an easy route back to the sea.
“Hey, it’s dark. We could be sneaky! There are probably hot dogs, Cheetos, you name it!”
She raised an eyebrow. “Do you really want to be awakened by little Billy wailing at six in the morning because someone with clearly sketchy morality has absconded his Cheetos?”
Noah frowned, harrumphed, then bit into his soggy sandwich. “I guess not,” he mumbled.
She chewed on hers awhile longer, finished it, and licked her fingers. “Well, I’m ready for those Cheetos now.”
Noah stared back at her.
“Well?” She crossed her legs and looked at him impatiently.
“No, no,” Noah said, waving a dismissive hand at her. “I’m a reformed man now. Can’t stoop to having ‘sketchy morality. ’ ”
“Me and my big mouth.” She looked down at her hands. “And I was already looking forward to Day-Glo orange fingers.”
He looked away, chin up, a superior gleam in his eye. “As attractive as that sounds, you will not be able to corrupt me.”
“Shoot.”
He looked at her then, closely and intensely, his smile fading completely. “It’s amazing you can be high-spirited in such serious danger.”
She gave a slight shrug. “Sometimes you have to be or you’d go crazy. At this point, I guess I’m too exhausted to be terrified.”
He nodded. “I know what you mean.” He smiled again. “Thanks. I haven’t laughed in a long time.”
She nodded. “Me, neither. What an intense couple of days this has been.”
“I’ll say.”
She regarded him with interest. “This must be normal for you, living your life on the run, always in danger.”
He looked away, out of the window. “I suppose I am on the move a lot. But I kind of like the danger.”
She laughed. “Are you kidding? I’m so stressed out I keep catching myself clenching my teeth. You actually like this?”
He looked back at her, eyes glittering. “A little bit,” he admitted. “Though I don’t appreciate being hunted.”
She thought of the creature out there, prowling, perhaps even now back on their trail.
“Nor do I,” she responded.
“Well, I don’t think you have to worry about that anymore.”
Her brow crinkled. “You mean you think he’s given up now? Before, you wouldn’t agree. What changed your mind?”
“I wouldn’t say he’s given up, but I think if he was dead set on killing you, he’d have tried by now.”
“Tried?” she snorted. “I think he already has… dragging me down in the freezing water, chasing me down the mountain in the dead of night, almost getting me barbecued in that meadow-”
“Maybe he wasn’t trying to drown you in the river. Maybe he was frantic and clutched on to you in panic.”
She stared at him in wonder.
“I mean,” he added quickly, “his MO is to eat people, not drown them.”
“I guess you have a point,” she conceded, though she felt sick at the thought of the river and that thing’s claws holding her fast underwater.
“Sorry if I upset you.”
“No, no,” she said, shaking her head. “I’m just shaken up, I guess.”
“Understandably.” He leaned over and held her, a comforting hug that made her feel some solace. She was glad he was there. Resting her head on his shoulder, she realized how good he smelled. He noticed her breathing him in and smiled.
“Well, I guess we should clean this stuff up,” she said, pulling away.
He still smiled, straightening up. “I’ll do it.”
She stood up, and he instantly rose to his feet, moving so quickly she didn’t see him do it.
His eyes glittered with energy. They stood only a foot apart. The tension hung between them, palpable, lingering. He reached out and touched her arm, caressing down from her shoulder to her wrist, then back up, across her collarbone to her bare neck, his hand warm against her skin there.
His fingers caressed her jawline, and she relished the sensation, closing her eyes momentarily to the arousing caress. He brought his other hand up, stroking her other arm and shoulder, till both hands curled around her neck. He stepped closer. She drank in every sensation.
His thigh moved forward, brushing hers. She shifted her leg so they continued to touch, thigh to thigh. He studied her intently, green eyes roaming over every feature of her face. Then he leaned in, pressing his cheek against hers, the rough of his whiskers gently brushing her skin. He radiated warmth, giving off an enticing scent she couldn’t place.
He inhaled deeply, lips tracing over her cheekbone to her jaw, then down to her chin, her neck. She sighed when he reached the sensitive skin there, and she leaned against the table to steady herself.
Still he breathed her in, mouth moving to her neck. His fingers found the collar of her shirt, and he pulled it down slightly, exposing a collarbone. His lips brushed along it, tongue darting out briefly to taste her, her skin humming to his touch.
Reaching out, she grasped his arm, pulled him still closer, stroking down the muscles between his shoulder blades.
And she could smell him deeply now, his skin, his hair. It was different somehow, the oils of his skin more fragrant, alluring. He turned his head to face her, their lips mere inches apart. She could almost feel his spirit tugging at her, an invisible force drawing her closer, irresistible and intoxicating. Her lips felt hot, engorged with desire.
But Noah didn’t draw closer. He stayed that inch away, eyes melting into her. She leaned a fraction closer, and he sealed the distance, pressing his lips against hers with such feverish passion that a well of electricity surged through her stomach.
His hand laced through her hair, cradling her head. He kissed her deeply, passionately, his tongue darting out to meet hers. He tasted exquisite, like some rich, tropical fruit. The tip of his tongue carried an electric charge when it entwined with her own.
It hadn’t been like this the first time they kissed.
His lips moved from her mouth to her chin, strong kisses then moving along her neck. He tilted her head to the side as his tongue flickered luxuriantly over her skin there. Then his arms wrapped around her tightly, pulling her away from the table as his teeth grazed her skin and then sank in-not painfully, not breaking the skin, but passionately pressing against the muscles there while his tongue caressed her. Involuntarily, her eyes rolled back in her head in ecstasy as he moved to the other side of her neck, sensually biting and kissing her there.
She gripped his arms, his muscles taut from holding her, and gasped with pleasure.