He had to force himself not to think of the blank stare he’d last seen on her beautiful pale face, but remember instead the way her high cheekbones pushed up, half-closing her exquisite eyes when she smiled at him. He thought of her dainty hands reaching up and touching his temple, pulling all the pain she felt there out with her fingertips and brushing it away, cleaning his soul with her purity and strength. He remembered feeling unworthy that she would use her gift to soothe him. But in her eyes, he saw the reflection of the man he wanted to be. Her man.
He was so lost in his dream of his dark-eyed soul mate, he thought the tug he felt deep inside was just another dimension of his devotion showing itself before he recognized the sensation as his Meg calling to him. At least, a part of her was.
Ignoring the tears slipping down his scruffy face, he spoke the words everyone was waiting to hear: “I feel her. She’s there. Follow the crash. She’s there,” Creed pointed excitedly off into the blackness. “She feels like a magnet pulling at me,” he mumbled to no one in particular.
“Is she hurt?” Evan asked—his voice quivered with equal parts excitement and terror for his big sister.
Creed pinched his eyes shut in obvious concentration. “I only feel her pull. It’s weak, but I don’t know if it’s because she’s hurt or because her memories of me,” he swallowed the emotion building in his throat, “are gone.”
Alik stopped trying to squint into the engulfing blackness and leaned back into the car, rolling his stiff neck. “You heard him Farrow. Let’s go find our girl.”
“I can’t believe this. She better be there, Creed. We’re putting all our hope in your daydreaming skills. For all we know, what you’re feeling is just gas.” Cole crossed his arms.
“Listen Cole, I know you and I have some unsettled shit to work out concerning Meg, but now is not the time or the place.” Creed’s voice commanded authority and everyone’s head turned to look at him in the shadows of the SUV as they flew toward the magnetic pull only he could feel.
Cole’s jaw snapped shut and a deep scowl formed on his youthful face.
Chapter 5 Gifted Girl
Meg stopped running only long enough to rip her dress and wrap her bleeding head with the black scrap. She considered whacking the three inch spikes off the heels, but decided against it. The strange angle of the remaining shoe would hurt more than the well-made Italian Strapys and she had to have shoes in this terrain.
She looked around her. Lights moving linearly below gave her proof there was a road she needed to get to. She took off quickly, pushing her hunger and thirst aside so she could concentrate on the path at her feet.
Fifteen minutes later, Meg was standing at the side of a dark, two-lane road. She breathed deeply, trying to concentrate on what she knew. Meg turned and headed south on that mostly deserted Kentucky road and forced herself to think.
What do you know? She asked herself.
I know I was in a helicopter that crashed into the side of a mountain and that the bloody monster of a guy called me “Meg.” I know I have a bleeding head wound and that I have no pockets, no form of identification at all. The only other thing I have is this ring wrapped around my finger.
That just brought up more questions, primarily centered on: Am I married?
Meg rubbed her eyes tiredly. When she dropped her hands, she saw the glow of headlights slipping over the black tongue of a road as it lolled from the mouth of the valley.
Self-consciously, Meg tried to smooth what was left of her black dress. She looked down at herself and frowned. In her haste, she’d ripped the dress at an asymmetrical angle starting at her midthigh on one side and ending at her calf on the other. The thin straps holding it to her frame left very little to the imagination and Meg felt herself shiver more from self-consciousness than chill.
The last paintbrush strokes across the horizon from the setting sun had long since disappeared as she ran down the hill. Now the sky was as dark as charcoal, giving the approaching yellowish headlights a predatory feel to the lost girl. She wrapped her arms around herself, trying to muster the courage to wave the vehicle down, but thinking it was just as likely that she should duck behind the nearest bush and hide.
That’s when she felt her heart actually tugged hard enough to turn her shoulders and face the headlights still several miles away.
“What?” she asked the darkness.
She felt the tug again and this time, her feet began moving—pulling her down the road.
“Why?” she asked herself.
A warm royal blue glow enveloped her aching soul feeding her strength and devotion. She couldn’t help it; she started running toward the headlights like a siren’s call—there was no resisting her need to find the source of the emotional warmth she knew was there.
The headlights didn’t look predatory anymore. They looked like home to the lost girl, running in the darkness.
Chapter 6 Strangers in the Dark
“I see her,” Sloan said.
“Holy smokes! I do too,” Cole marveled.
Creed felt the pounding of his heartbeat synchronize with the girl’s pumping arms. His anxious eyes could see she was running toward them.