His sudden even glance drew her attention from the fact he was holding her hand, so easy and natural. “You’re here as a test, Elisa. To see how they do around a human who isn’t supposed to be their prey. I’ve purposely chosen those three because of the way they act around you. Even so, you’ll stay at my side at all times. If I go run with them, you’ll stay with Tokala. I’ll keep them drawn away from the both of you. The same rules apply here. You obey anything Tokala or I tell you to do, without question. Understood?”
“Understood.” In pure delight, she seized both his hands and spun around him, taking him in the spin with her. She finished by teetering up on her sneaker toes to brush his cheek with her lips. “This is wonderful. Thank you. They’ve never had this.”
He gave her a look of wry exasperation, but shook his head and tugged her onward. The grass was high and whispered against her trouser legs. Mal carried her basket and kept a steady grip on her to help her maintain her footing, reminding her there was a practical reason he’d taken her hand. Still, she couldn’t entirely get her head out of the clouds.
“Were you . . . ? Did you ever wear real Indian clothing, like you see in the books?”
“Hush.” But after a second, he slanted her another glance. “Why?”
“When I have dreams of the island, you’re wearing things like in the history books. Leggings, loincloth, beads.”
“You’re still having dreams like you did in my bed?”
The phrasing made her cheeks pinken, but his speculative glance made her realize he was thinking it was related to the mystery of why she could see his fault lines. She cleared her throat. “They seem just as vivid. Did you ever . . . wear things like that?”
He grunted. “No, I never did. By the time I was born, the Tsalagi were participating in a Westernization effort, trying to fit in with white society.” His lip curled, and those storm clouds scudded across his face. “But I remember seeing the elders in traditional clothing. They looked better that way.”
As they crested the top slope of the hill, she saw the vehicle he’d indicated. The boxlike structure on the trailer bed held the three fledglings, because she saw their movement through the openings as they moved to each of the few windows, rotating their view.
“Do they know why they’re here?” Fear gripped her as she remembered the only time Ruskin transported them was to play his sick, brutal games with human prey.
“Yes, they do. Which is why they’re bouncing around in there like they’re on a hot tin plate.” However, even Mal sounded like he was anticipating how they would react to this. Seeing something meant to be free experiencing it for the first time couldn’t help but affect him, she was sure. For the first time since their capture, they were being allowed out for their own pleasure, not Ruskin’s.
Wistfully, she jumped ahead in her imaginings. Thought of them as working members of the sanctuary, Jeremiah helping Mal with the cats, Miah curled up with a book in the front room, reading aloud to Kohana . . .
He said nothing to that, but took her down the slope where Tokala waited, leaning against the truck. At the sight of Elisa, he gave her a nod and smile, but his manner was far more serious than when she saw him taking meals or relaxing around the bunkhouse with the others. In the front seat, she saw a shotgun as well as a crossbow. Despite her trepidation, she understood it was a necessary precaution even the fledglings would expect.
Jeremiah was looking out the trailer opening closest to her. Because of the height, she could see only the top portion of his face, not the unnaturally protruded fangs, so she saw serious gray-green eyes and blond hair, a sprinkle of freckles across the nose. When she looked at the eyes, she saw the unusual vibrancy there, the intent focus of a predatory animal, but otherwise it was the face of a young boy. She had to suppress the desire to put her fingers up there, let them overlap his. He disappeared again, and Miah and Matthew took his place, each craning to see her.
“Hello, all of you.” She smiled at them. “I’m glad you’re going to get out tonight.”
“I’ve already run down the rules with them,” Mal spoke. “Same as the enclosures, Elisa. Not within four feet of you, all right? Go sit on the hood of the truck.”
She instantly moved to scramble up onto it. Mal put her basket next to her and squeezed her leg. Whether it was a reassurance or an admonishment to stay like an obedient dog, she didn’t know, but she’d accept both. Clasping her hands together, she looked up toward the stars, too excited to watch while Mal and Tokala opened the truck. She needed to be calm. As she drew deep breaths, she studied that thick, jeweled, dark velvet curtain and felt like she could reach up, put her hand through it to touch whatever lay beyond. The place the dog ran. Perhaps someone on the other side of that curtain would clasp her hand, draw her up to show off the wonders.
For tonight, however, the wonders she wanted to see were earthbound. She didn’t know exactly how she knew when they were out, because they all moved so silently, but she slowly lowered her chin to look right at Jeremiah. He stood what she was sure was precisely four feet away from her. He gazed at her with those gray-green eyes, no bars between them. For the very first time.
“Hello, Jeremiah,” she said softly. She was aware of Mal to her left, so close and watchful. She wasn’t afraid, though. Whether it was foolishness or not, she had never been afraid of Jeremiah. She’d fear Nerida before she would fear him. In Oz it was customary to give people with long names nicknames, so he should have been called Jez, but she wanted him to have the whole thing. Something weighty that was his own, though she wondered if he’d ever give her the gift of his real name. It didn’t matter. He could be whatever he needed to be tonight.
He tilted his head up toward the sky like she had, only he kept doing it, until his neck strained and his back arched. As he did, he lifted his arms like a bird, stretching out far to either side. He straightened enough to turn a circle, then another, becoming a slowly spinning top.
Her heart was swelling painfully in her chest. His eyes closed as he did it, as if he was embracing the whole world. Looking left, she saw Miah watching him bemusedly. Matthew was trying the same thing, though he was far more interested in looking at every single thing he could at once, like a puppy let off a lead for the first time, overcome with everything he wanted to do and see. The two fledglings were a few feet away from Jeremiah. A sidelong glance showed Tokala was to her right, holding the crossbow. She didn’t see Mal now, but she knew he was there, his presence a physical, living thing inside of her. Whether or not he thought the fledglings were doomed, tonight he’d let them out, expecting them to follow his rules without threat of whips, violence or emotional manipulation. It was the first breath of fresh air they’d had in a long time, in more ways than one.
Miah and Matthew needed Jeremiah’s lead, though, because one mere moment could not build trust or eradicate fear. They were looking behind her now, even as Jeremiah continued to spin. Twisting around, she found Mal on top of the truck, legs crossed in a relaxed fashion, hands lying on his knees.
She turned her gaze back to Jeremiah as he came to a stop, swaying. As he looked at her again, she saw that brilliance in his eyes had migrated to his expression. Just a minute tightening of facial muscles here and there, not a broad open smile of course, but it was transformation. The face of someone who’d been trudging through hellfire so long his skin had peeled off, leaving him as nothing but bone and lost soul, changing as he saw a tiny window to Heaven open right in front of him.
His arms were still straight out from his body, but when he stopped his spinning, he was facing more toward Tokala than her. Though he still stood four feet away, that arm was within a foot of her. Mal hadn’t said anything, and though she might be rebuffed, she asked anyway, in her mind, showing him what she wanted.
Yes. Briefly.
She nodded, showing Jeremiah she’d gotten agreement, that he wasn’t breaking any rules, and slowly lifted her hand from her lap. He latched onto that motion, but kept his hand motionless, poised in the air. She had to bend forward from the hood, but it was still easy enough to let her fingertips approach his. Jeremiah made an odd sound in his throat. Maybe it was a growl, but to her ears it sounded like a caught sob. His fingers quivered, and then the pads of hers met his, one, two, three. He lifted his palm so she could do the same with thumb and small finger, four and five. She smiled, but her eyes were brimming. He tracked the tear that rolled down her face.
All right, draw back now, Elisa. Don’t tempt fate.
She closed her eyes, then opened them to give Jeremiah a reassuring look. “Go play now,” she murmured. “Go run with Mal. Feel what it’s like to be free.”
He gave her that long, penetrating look again; then he glanced up at Mal. Mal rose from his seated position, tall against the night sky, gesturing toward the open plain. “Go do as you like. You can’t cause any harm. I’ll be near.”
Matthew and Miah looked to their self-appointed leader. Jeremiah pivoted toward the field. There was a moment of breathless anticipation, when Elisa thought all of them might be holding their breath; then all of a sudden, Jeremiah took off. A vampire like Mal could move swifter than the eye could follow. Jeremiah might be a bit slower, but he was still faster than any car or train she’d ever experienced. She was only able to track him for a few seconds across the field, the other two following, before they disappeared over the rise. The thrill of it tingled through her, all the way to her toes.
Jumping down off the Jeep, Mal directed his words to Tokala. “Keep her near and safe.”
Tokala nodded. “I’ve brought cards and some coffee. We’re good as long as you need. And I’m sure the little miss won’t be itching for you to put them back in that box until they’ve run themselves down.”
Mal looked toward her then, shifting so his lower abdomen was pressed against her knees, propped up by her feet braced on the front bumper. “You asked me,” he noted.