all this way.”
The men laughed.
“So I think I'll lead her away from you – if you don't
mind. I know how you are with women, Ailani.” He turned
to the warrior. “I think it's better if I keep her safe from you.
You’re too handsome for your own good.”
The warrior continued his bow as Chance led me
away, his arm around my shoulder as we walked further
down the mountain path. I was still reeling from confusion
and fear. Who were these men – and why did they worship
Chance as a god? And what had happened to me? That kiss,
so tender and yet so rough, still burned on my lips. I could
still taste his mouth – spicy and sweet – on mine. I felt my
body start to ache: from exhaustion, from pain, from desire.
I felt myself grow weak at the knees as I staggered to the
ground, but Chance quickly propped me up. At his touch, I
felt as I had felt before: drunk, exhausted, overcomed, yet
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excited.
“What was all that about?” I asked him. “What's
going on?”
“What do you mean?”
“What do you mean – what do I mean? You just
kissed me and more?” I wasn’t going to blush in front of him.
“Well, aren't you going to thank me?” His eyes
twinkled mischievously.
“For kissing me?”
“For getting you out of there alive, Miss Evers. And
don't go blabbing what's happened to anyone, either – or else
I won't be able to save you. It's lucky for you I passed by
when I did. They respect me. They know me. They trust me
not to give away their secrets. If they trust you it's because I
vouched for you – and they're risking their whole way of life
by letting you leave here unharmed. My father would be all
over that land in a heartbeat – let alone far less scrupulous
developers – if he knew they were there. He'd turn the Veteri
into a tourist attraction the way he's done with the fire-
dancing.” He scoffed.
“They were treating you like you were a god,” I said.
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“I thought you'd had enough of that at Eton.”
At the mention of his old school, Chance scowled.
“They treat me with respect,” he said. “It's part of their ways
– you wouldn't understand.”
“Try me,” I insisted.
“It's a long story,” said Chance. He didn't look at me.
At last my house came into view, and I breathed a sigh of
relief. It had been a harrowing day, and all I wanted to do
was go home.
“You know, normally that cottage is reserved for
VIPs,” said Chance, pointing at my house. “It's usually
rented out. But my father decided to turn it into an employee
residence instead. Because that's how the Cutter family
operates, of course.” He smiled grimly. “We’re one big
happy family. According to Antonio.”
There was an awkward silence.
“Well, thanks.” I stuck out my hand for him to shake,
but he did not. “I should have stayed on the path. But I was
stubborn. I wanted to go out and collect some stones, but...”
“Stones?” Suddenly Chance's brow furrowed. He
looked almost worried. “What do you want with stones
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around here?”
“I collect them,” I said. “Really – it's just a hobby.
Some people like bird-watching, other people collect
baseball cards. I like stones. And on the path today, I had this
feeling – just this weird feeling – that what I was looking for
wasn't on the path.”
Chance said nothing, but his eyes were full of
concern. Even now they were so dazzling – like the blue
burning of a flame.
“Don't judge!” I said. “I love finding new stones.
That feeling you get when you hold them in the palm of your
hand – kind of warm…how they change colors, how
sometimes the stones can tell you things…” I broke off,
feeling embarrassed telling Chance about the stones and
almost telling him about my connection with nature. How I
can sometimes tell about a place, its history, what went on
there just by picking up a stone, studying some of the plants
and rocks around. “We don't have that kind of connection
with nature. Not since the Erosion. Now it's all ferries and
airplanes and gadgets and dams and trying to fight nature
every step of the way. It wasn't like that, once. We were more
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connected then. Now we're just trying to have power over
nature – and it isn't working. No matter how many scientists
try to restore the land mass.” I stopped short, afraid I had
said too much.
“Not everyone, Miss Evers.”
“How many times have I told you?” I sighed. “Mac.
Just Mac, Chance.”
“I don't use pet names,” said Chance. “And I prefer
not to use first names.”
“Why, too much trouble to remember them?” The
familiar anger sparked in me. How could Chance dance with
me so passionately, kiss me so passionately, only to be so
cold to me when we spoke?
“No,” he said. “Calling you by your first name – it
means we're close. And we're not. I'm not interested in being
particularly close to anyone.”
I remembered
