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not afraid of you.” My
stomach knotted.
    “ Then why are you
trembling?”
    “ I’m not,” I said
defensively, and clutched my hands together.
    He chuckled like he didn’t believe me,
not even for a second. The low tones in his laugh were hazardously
appealing. A voice that was as deep as his should have personality
to match. Of course, I hadn’t actually met many creepers – were
they all tempting?
    “ What do you want with
me?”
    “ Many things,” he answered.
Warmth flooded from him. Heat crawled over my body. “But it’s
obvious you need more exposure to others like us.”
    “ Let me make this clear,
there’s no you and me – and there’s never going to be an us ,” I said, making
quoting signs as I finished my sentence. What he could possibly
want from me made my skin crawl. I doubted that finding out would
make it less disturbing.
    He nudged his shoulder against mine.
Muscle spasms erupted in my arm and upper body, even after he
stopped touching me. “You know, it doesn’t have to be this hard,
sitting next to me, Gwyneth. If you’d accept my presence instead of
combating it, the tension would ease, and dare I say you might even
enjoy the affect I have on you.”
    “ I’m not making myself feel
like this,” I said as I put my head between my knees. Praying that
the world stopped spinning out of control, I focused on breathing
evenly and covered my eyes to block out his glowing
silhouette.
    “ Give it time, I’ll grow on
you.”
    “ You’re not doing
anything on me,” I
said, but stopped my rant when he began rubbing my back. He worked
on the knots, but his touch only made me stiffer. My elbows slipped
on my legs. Sweat dripped from my brow. “What do you want from
me?”
    “ You aren’t ready to hear
what I have to say,” Jace whispered, as his fingers lingered on my
back. “If you can’t sit next to me without having such strong
reactions, I sincerely doubt you’re ready for what I have to
offer.”
    No one else was in the room. What I
wanted to say was going to sound crazy, like lock me up
insane-crazy, but the question was begging to be asked. “Are you
going to kill me?”
    Utter silence.
    He didn’t move.
    The tension in my stomach tightened,
but it wasn’t from whatever sickening effect he had on me. It
should have been an easy answer – right? No, I’m not going to kill
you. Why would there be any reason to hesitate? So why was he
hesitating?
    My apprehension actually eased, the
longer I thought about the absurdity of the question – which made
no sense. If someone didn’t give an immediate answer to a question
like that, shouldn’t anxiety heighten? Instead, calmness passed
over me; I no longer felt like ripping out my stomach and stomping
on it. My head no longer pounded like a bass drum. My damp hands
dried.
    Lowering my hands and opening my eyes,
I half expected him not to be there even though I could still feel
his hand on my back. His white silhouette still glowed next to me.
He whispered words that I didn’t understand. Time passed as I
listened to every syllable he spoke. Eventually he got around to
speaking my language.
    “ I’d never kill you, unless
you beg me,” he promised.
    What kind of a response was that? I
imagined my jaw hitting the floor. However my lips barely
parted.
    “ Good, you’re awake,” the
nurse said, walking into the room.
    “ I believe Miss Thompson
could use a glass of water,” Jace said cheerfully, hopping off the
mattress.
    “ It’s Patterson,” I said,
and then wondered why he would suggest my last name was Thompson –
the surname of my foster parents.
    “ Of course,” he said. A
hint of amusement lingered in his voice. He started to walk out of
the nurse’s office. “For a second I thought you might be blowing
smoke up my –”
    “ Watch your mouth,” the
nurse warned.
    “ I wasn’t sure if the name
your friend gave me at the bowling alley was real,” Jace said. “I
thought it might be a fake name and so I did