“Then why don’t you kiss me like that?”
Danny gaped at him, silently adding this to the list of things he had never expected to happen: being confronted by a jealous clock spirit. “I wasn’t sure how.”
Colton’s eyes shifted, but his face was unyielding. He appeared to think something over, then nodded to himself and came closer. “I’ve seen it enough times.” Colton grabbed Danny’s vest and pulled him in.
The kiss thrilled him, but in a terrifying way. Colton pressed Danny in closer and closer until he thought he would break. Part of him wanted the breaking, the snap and pain of it, the surrender. Danny couldn’t get any words around Colton’s lips. He pushed back, and they lost their balance and fell to the floor.
Colton pressed him down with his hips and something exploded through Danny’s body, dangerous and burning. They had never kissed this way before—greedy, demanding, rough.
He liked it.
Colton’s fingers slid over Danny’s bare stomach even as his tongue slid into his mouth. Danny shuddered and gripped his arms hard enough to leave bruises, if Colton had a normal body. He knew this should stop, but another part of him was entranced, asking, What next? What’s he going to do?
Danny wanted to find out.
It didn’t feel like it had with Harland. That kiss had been disposable, there and gone like melting snow. This was a sunburn. Lingering. Scorching.
Colton’s fingers slipped into his trousers.
He arched his head back and Colton kissed a path down the exposed slope of his throat, nipped the beating pathway of his pulse. He couldn’t think. Nothing in the world existed except for Colton’s mouth and his hand. God, his hand. A word left his mouth in a whisper—“please,” maybe, or Colton’s name. Colton answered by fusing their lips back together.
Danny’s lungs screamed, but he didn’t dare stop. He traced the hard lines of Colton’s collarbones, the smooth plane of his neck. He buried his hand in the spirit’s hair and sighed against his mouth. He would gladly give him all his air, if only that’s what it took to breathe life into him.
Time compressed around them. It lay against his skin, then sent a jolt deep into his chest. Not its usual, gentle hold, but a jagged pain like teeth being pulled.
Danny winced and looked out of the corner of his eye. The hands of the clock were zooming around the face, the light outside dimming rapidly.
With Herculean effort he wrenched his mouth away.
“STOP!”
Colton looked at the clock face in horror. He crawled off of Danny and sat on the dusty floorboard, holding his head in his hands, eyes closed tight. Danny sat up and watched him, breaths coming in short gasps.
Slowly, gradually, the clock hands stopped. They quivered in indecision, then began to move backward, the light outside brightening from night to late afternoon. The tick tocks resumed once the hands found their rightful place earlier in the day.
They sat unmoving on the floor, too afraid to speak. Danny slowly put himself back together, his lips swollen. He could feel his pulse in them. Could feel his pulse everywhere, even in the churn of the clockwork below.
The silence was loud and oppressive. He stood on weak legs and grabbed his coat.
“This can’t go on,” he said, his voice wavering.
Colton didn’t look up, didn’t move. Danny turned and made for the stairs.
A small crowd headed by the mayor had formed outside the tower, demanding to know what had gone wrong. Their day had suddenly turned into night, time slipping by with frightening speed. Danny apologized and told them something had happened to the pendulum while he was straightening up. But it was all right now, really. His mistake. They patted his back and nervously said that he would learn; no harm was done.
You’re wrong, he wanted to tell them.
Too shocked to drive, he turned for the pub. The other patrons left Danny alone when they realized he was in a bad mood. He guzzled two pints, barely pausing for air. Then he laid his head on his arms.
It was mad to have these feelings for a clock spirit. Seeing this new side to Colton, this startling jealousy, confirmed there was no going back on his emotions now. Just as Matthias had been ensnared by the spirit in Maldon, so too was Danny caught by Colton. And if anything should happen to Danny—if he left—Colton might do something they would all regret.
But he promised. He loves the town too much.
If only Danny could talk to the spirit of Maldon, and ask how one prevented grief.
Danny finally mustered up his courage to return to the tower. By then dusk had naturally faded into early night, and the wind was freezing. He stood in the road and sighed, watching his breath become vapor, like he had turned into a steam-driven machine. He caught motion out of the corner of his eye and turned his head.
Colton stood behind the hedge, looking at him.