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I get us to a point where a house on the corner has a huge cluster of ornamental grasses, the kind that look like they’re in desperate need of a landscaper. Scraggly and overgrown, they’re more brown than green, but they provide stellar cover from being watched. I’m guessing Jason’ll give me five minutes out of direct sight, at best.
I need to make every second count.
Positioning us so that Winnie can be seen but we can’t, I hold my hand out to her.
“Give me your phone.”
“I don’t have it with me.”
“Even better.” I reach for her shoulders and place my hands on them, inhaling her sweet scent. All I want to do is kiss her, but the running tally of death and danger in the back of my head makes it clear now is not the time.
No matter how much I want it to be the time.
“Cam, I -- ”
“When you were twelve, your parents told you you were the embodiment of a genetic prophecy.”
She flinches so hard, it’s as if I’ve stung her.
“How do you know that?” she hisses.
“And in less than a week, you’ll be delivered to your husband. Together, you’ll usher in a new phase in humanity.”
“Are you – are you one of us?”
In all my preparations, I never considered that question.
“Yes,” I lie. “Of course.”
“I knew it!” she squeals, throwing her hands around my neck, pressing herself against me for an embrace. “I knew it the moment I first saw you. That explains why I cannot stop thinking about you! Oh, Cam. Oh, oh, oh! I have not transgressed!”
“Uh...”
“I am not impure! You’re my future husband! You’ve come to find me early. But – but why?” On those last words she pulls back, looking up at me with such innocence I can’t help myself.
I have to taste her.
Chapter Eleven
Paigelynn
* * *
The kiss is so unexpected, so beautiful, so breathtaking, so delicious, and oh, so wrong.
All that I am is wrapped in his arms as Cam kisses me, my body eager to rest against him, our heat joined, his breath against my face as we sigh into the kiss. His hands rub against my back, my own frozen at his shoulders as this kiss turns into so much more, like fire.
We burn for each other in this connection.
For so many years I’ve imagined my first kiss, saved it for my husband, and now here he is. Cam has found a way to me, but his words terrify me.
What he says makes no sense.
And yet he knows so much about me.
Too much.
Breaking away, I look up at him and whisper, “How do I know you’re not one of The Men.”
