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get some
shoes when the cold wet of the porch floor froze the bottoms of my
feet.
    I groaned to myself as I stepped into the
cold wet grass. Mud seeped through my toes, blades of grass and
dirt and other things stuck to my feet and I shivered.
    “Hurry up!” I growled at the dog, and walked
him a little farther into the yard as he tugged on his leash,
pulling me toward the far side of the yard where the grass stopped
and the woods started. No way was I going in there, but he kept
pulling, kept barking, until I suddenly realized that he didn’t
have to go to the bathroom at all. There was something out there
that he’d sensed from the bedroom. Fear gripped me from the inside
out, and I tugged on his leash.
    “Get over here,” I tried to yell in a
whisper. “Bermy, Come here!” He’s not a big dog, only weighs about
fifty pounds, so I had little no trouble pulling him back so I
could lock the leash in place before turning back to the house.
    But I didn’t get far. There was a tall,
solid body blocking my path. I couldn’t see much as the light was
behind it, but I knew it was a man, and I knew he was smiling at
me. What frightened me the most was not how I suddenly felt those
eyes again, but that I wasn’t afraid. It didn’t seem right to not
be afraid, and that scared me.
    “Hello, LeKrista.” I knew that accent, but
the voice was different. He pronounced the Kr deep in his throat so
it sounded very French. My name curled around his tongue, rolling
off like liquid, and I realized why I couldn’t place the accent. It
encompassed every voice, every language, every people group across
the years. The accent that began it all. The voice from the
beginning of time. His was what we all would sound like had we not
been corrupted to build the Tower of Babel.
    “Hello. Who are you?” My throat was dry, my
feet were cold and dirty, and my brain had stopped working all
together. I was supposed to be afraid, but I couldn’t quite
remember why.
    “You may call me Roman.” A finger stroked my
right cheek, and warmth flooded my body, all the way down to my
frozen toes. For a moment I was afraid the false sensation would
cause me to lose my toes to frostbite, but then Roman was talking
again and I wanted to hear him.
    “I wanted to apologize,” he told me, but
that was as far as he went, so I pried.
    “For what?”
    Yuck! I sound so ugly compared to him!
    “Earlier this evening. I fear my friend has
become a little overzealous and his emotional state caused you to
latch on to his thoughts. It hasn’t happened in a very long
time.”
    His voice trailed off, but I probably
wouldn’t have been able to hear anything he said after that anyway.
The pounding in my head had returned and unwanted images flashed
across my vision - a woman on her knees, hands pressed to bloody
ears, screaming against a pain that wouldn’t stop. Something popped
inside my head. White light exploded in my vision and I was
falling. My body tilted and I didn’t have the strength to stop
it.
    Cool, strong arms wrapped around me as my
legs crumpled. Roman held me against his chest for a long moment as
I waited for my strength to return and my vision to clear.
    “Quiet, dog!” Roman’s voice sounded much
harsher than I thought it should have, but I attributed it to the
headache making my ears sensitive. “I am so sorry, my sweet.” His
accent was suddenly very, very thick with pain and regret. “Can you
hear me?”
    “Yes,” I answered weakly. “What
happened?”
    Roman shook his head. “I will explain when
you are better. For now you need to rest.” Those cool fingers
stroked my cheek again and the warmth returned, my head cleared,
and I was very, very sleepy. Roman turned and carried me to the
house. His gait was smooth and fluid. Like everything else about
him, it was perfect and precise as if he’d practiced a very long
time.
    “No, I don’t want to sleep,” I protested,
suddenly panicked, but Roman brushed his fingers against my