Page 21

Despite her sour mood, Polly easily fell asleep. But I couldn't. I just studied the ceiling as I lay on the foam mattress, trying to settle my mind, but what Luc had said this afternoon was running on a loop in my head.

"I must've regained some of Rachel's trust after we... talked."

Was that all it took? Talking? But we had done more than just talk... Heat spread through me as I thought of the kiss. My fingers went to my lips, running over them like I could still feel a trace of his mouth.

The kiss... It had been a rash decision, a bad choice, but—and it was difficult to admit to myself—it had felt good. And I couldn't help but think the kiss had been more responsible for mending my trust than the talking. But it wasn't like I could test that theory...

Could I?

Polly stirred on the nearby futon, and I started, like she had caught me doing something wrong even though it had all been in my head.

I heard her mumble dreamily, and then sigh.

.

.

just as the Beast let out yet another low growl next door.

I turned to stare at the wall that divided us, listening intently for the sounds of the Beast's movements on the other side. The rhythmic clacking of its claws was slow and lazy like it was getting tired of fruitlessly pacing my ruined apartment.

My eyes drew up the wall, to the ceiling, where the golden script traced along the edge.

How long would the barrier hold?

The Beast seemed to be getting more and more powerful, would it soon be able to break through?

The thought of it made my chest tighten like it was closing in on my now racing heart.

I tore my gaze away and squeezed my eyes shut, trying to block all the panic from my mind.

It did me no good to dwell on this, and definitely not right now.

I rolled over and tried to settle into the bed again, willing my body to sleep.

But as soon as my eyes closed, my thoughts returned to Luc.

.

.

and his lips.

With no small amount of effort, I tried to push the thoughts back.

I tried to focus only on the softness of the pillow—the same pillow he had used, my mind cruelly reminded me—and the warmth of the bed—where his warm body had lain, it chimed in again.

After a few restless moments, it quickly became obvious that sleep was a lost cause.

I threw off my covers and lurched up in bed.

Even though it seemed crazy, I knew then that I had to do something, anything.

Our situation was precarious, and I had no idea how long we could maintain this illusion of safety.

We were trapped, stuck, and nothing was going to change unless we did something.

What I was thinking of doing was crazy, but maybe I needed to be a little crazy.

There was only one way to find out.

Waking Polly would put bring a quick end to my plan, so moving as quietly as I could, I crawled out of bed, got to my feet and slipped through the curtain. She didn't even stir as I tip-toed past the futon and made my way to the door of Luc's bedroom.

Holding my breath, I tapped gently with my finger, then glanced back over my shoulder to make sure that Polly hadn't been disturbed; fortunately, she stayed where she was, her chest still rising and falling in an even rhythm.

After a few quiet seconds with no answer, I worried he hadn't heard me. I went to tap again, but as I raised my hand, the door opened, just a bit. His pale, stubbly face appeared in the darkness.

"Rachel?" Luc breathed, obviously surprised to see me. "What is it? Is something wrong?"

"No, everything is fine," I whispered back. "I was just wondering if I could, uh, come in."

He narrowed his eyes at me and seemed to struggle with some thought for a moment. "Do... do you think it's a good idea?"

I had to stifle a smile. No, I didn't think it was a good idea, but... "Well, it's just that I have a theory about getting your powers back."

Luc's brow folded in like he didn't understand what I was talking about, but, after a moment, he nodded and said, "Okay, you can come in... but just for a minute." He stepped aside to let me enter.

I stepped through the crack in the door, shutting it behind me. The room was dim, lit only by a small lamp on his nightstand, but I could still see the flush of colour on his cheeks.

As I stood there, Luc inched away from me, putting a comfortable amount of space between us. My lips twitched, once again trying to break into a smile; despite my nerves, I couldn't help but find his blush endearing.

"So, then... what's this theory of yours?" Luc asked.

His mention of it made me remember why I had come in here. My heart beat faster at the thought of it. I tried to calm myself as I started to explain. "You said that you regained some of your powers because I had come to trust you, right?"

"Right," he said. He didn't look at me, but I swore I saw the red in his cheeks deepen.

"So, do you think that was because we talked? Or because..."

His eyes snapped up suddenly to mine. "Because what?" His blush was definitely deeper now.

"Well, uh..." I started, but my tongue seemed to seize up; I couldn't get the words out. I glanced around the room nervously, trying to muster the courage to get the few short words out, when my eyes fell on a half-open dresser drawer. An idea blossomed in my mind. "Can you open that drawer?"

Luc squinted at me in the darkness, his confusion plain on his face.

"I mean, with your powers. Can you? I want to see how much you got back."

"Oh," he said, but he didn't look any less confused. Still, he did as I asked. Raising his hand, he flicked it towards himself. The drawer shuddered and shifted open a little further. Nothing extraordinary. "My powers are still very weak," he explained.

I nodded as I chewed on my lip, trying to muster the courage to put my theory to the test. It's now or never.

Without warning, I crossed the distance that Luc had put between us and took hold of his shoulders; with all my strength, I pulled him in close and planted my lips on his. I felt my cheeks flare with heat at my imposition, but I held fast.

For one moment, Luc seemed to be too stunned to do anything. Then I felt his lips part, and his hands moved to my waist. Our tongues found each other and gently entwined, moving together. But soon enough he regained his senses and pulled away.

"We s-shouldn't—" he stuttered. "Polly will... I mean, it's not a good time to—"

"Try again," I breathed, my voice husky. "Try to move the drawer again."

Luc just blinked at me but once again obeyed; he raised his hand up and beckoned to the dresser.

Every single one of the drawers shot out instantaneously.

"Oh," was all Luc said, before turning back to me.

I couldn't stop my smile this time. "I guess my theory was right."

We held each other's gazes for another small, tense second before he reached for me, drawing me closer to him, pressing my body against his. Our mouths met again, our breath coming hot and quick. In that moment, everything—Polly, the Beast, the threat to my life—was forgotten. All my shyness evaporated, and all I could focus on was the sweetness of his lips and how wonderful it felt to have his hands on my body.

And as he gathered me into his arms, and I wrapped my legs around his waist, the Beast let out a piercing scream like it had been branded with a searing iron.

??

?? I mean, that's one way to do it... ??

What do you think Polly's going to say when she finds out?