Old Magic(71)

This makes sense, only I wonder just how much time do we have?

I feel her probe, gently at first, inside my head. She’s trying to sense my feelings. It will be easy to feel the doubts and fears. Her probe deepens. I reach a point where I want to block her, and this realisation suddenly hits me – I’ve blocked her before, and Jillian said that most people can’t even tell Kate is in their heads. I can, and I can block her if I want to. Is this proof that I have abilities beyond the norm?

I look into her eyes and feel her probe deepen. She doesn’t look away; and the moment becomes intense. It’s an amazing feeling, having Kate in my head, sensing my emotions while maintaining eye contact. It’s like we’re naked or something, our emotional secrets lying bare to each other’s observation. Wordlessly we continue to share our feelings. And the intensity increases.

Finally she speaks, and her voice is croaky. ‘You’d better kiss me.’

I nod and swallow the sudden lump in my throat.

We kiss and slide down the pillows and keep kissing, forgetting everything – where we are, when we are, what we’re supposed to be doing here. Kate feels fantastic. I acknowledge on some higher level that we are made for each other.

‘Jarrod,’ she murmurs.

‘Hmm?’

‘I’m afraid.’

Her words make me stop. For starters, they’re so out of character. Kate is always in control, even when she’s upset or angry. She never loses her head. I understand she’s really worried. She’s thinking of Rhauk’s parting words. I wish there was something I could say to make her feel better, safer. I glance up into her face. Her beautiful crystalline eyes look large and frightened. She reminds me of a new-born foal, all wobbly legs and unsure of itself. Her pale skin is even paler than usual, almost translucent in the dying light of the fire. I lightly brush my lips across her eyelids, her cheeks, overwhelmed with a fierce feeling of wanting to protect.

‘I need you to hold me,’ she says softly. ‘All night, OK?’

I promise with my eyes ’cause I know my voice is unreliable right now.

‘Promise you won’t let me go, Jarrod. Not for a second.’

Her words move me in a way I’ve never felt before. I lean over her, my hands on either side of her head, and kiss her mouth. ‘I promise,’ I croak, meaning every word.

A distant squawk pierces the still night, but neither of us recognises the sound as danger at first. Somewhere in the depths of my mind I register the noise, but it’s only when the demanding squawking sounds come from inside our tower room a few moments later, that I understand. It’s the crow. Rhauk’s. Peering at us from the window ledge, making angry noises to get our attention.

I stare at this obtrusive intruder. ‘Kate, it’s Rhauk’s crow.’

Its head lowers slightly, tilting sideways as if listening to – and comprehending – our conversation.

‘No,’ Kate whispers, her lips trembling. ‘I don’t think …’

The crow moves closer. ‘Have you ever seen anything so large!’

Kate’s eyes never leave the massive crow. ‘The eyes …’ she whispers.

The fire is almost out, so light in the tower room is dim, filled with flickering shadows, but nothing can disguise the crow’s eyes. For they are not crow’s eyes at all. But human. Too much like Rhauk’s. Black and cold.

Before either of us moves, the large crow with Rhauk’s knowing eyes lunges. I throw myself completely over Kate. The crow’s talons dig into my back, ripping my nightshirt to shreds in a vicious assault to move me. I try to shake it off, without shifting from Kate, but the bird beats at me with its sharp talons and flapping wings, all the while squawking and shrieking. My senses fill with its scent – bird-like, yet impassioned with human revenge. Blood oozes out of my back where its talons dig deeply. I hit at it with my elbows, back, head, kick at it with my heels. Anything to shake it off. This far up the tower I wonder if anyone can hear what’s going on and come to help.

A wind starts that soon becomes fierce. At first I think this wind is exactly what we need, but I soon realise it has no effect on the attacking bird. If anything, it seems to incite it.

Kate squirms beneath me, tries throwing her fists at the monstrous thing at my back. It grins at our attempts, seeing them as feeble, and starts intensely now, pecking with its pointed beak at an artery in my throat. It doesn’t once harm Kate, yet its purpose is clear. It’s trying to get to Kate.

Blood trickles from my throat, on to Kate’s white nightgown. She screams at the sight. ‘Jarrod, you’re bleeding!’