The Kiss: An Anthology About Love and Other Close Encounters(85)
"But I don't want to be dead!"
"Too late," grins TT. "No choice now." He reaches for her.
One of the men leans into her wrecked car and presses a stethoscope to her chest. "There's a faint heartbeat," he says. His voice is not hopeful.
"Nooo," screams TT, stamping his dirty feet in rage.
"It's now or never, Erin," Nick says to her. He holds out his strong hand to her.
"No! I am your only possible choice you stupid girl," says TT holding out his thin, talon-like hand to her. "Remember, everyone knows who Nick is."
She is reaching for Nick when TT hisses, "Don't be a sucker."
A sucker?
She hesitates a moment then grabs hold of Nick's hand, leans forward and kisses him on his cheek. There is a screech of a nerve racking high-pitched sound. Instantly she is whirled away. Then blessed silence as she is carefully lifted from her car and placed on a stretcher. And the pain. Oh God, the pain is back. That means . . . she is alive!
*
Alison Blake is Irish-American but somewhere, not too far back, there must be some gypsy in her blood. Her aim is to live, for a short while, in every town. state, and country that ignites her imagination. Today the USA, next year the rest of the world. She’s also mad about horses, dogs and kayaking. Find out more about Alison Blake and her novels, and short stories at:
http://www.alisonblakewriter.com
*
Dark Visions: The Paladin’s Kiss
Jeanette Raleigh
Isabelle lifted her skirts and stepped across the field, anxious for a glimpse of Luke. She'd seen little enough of him since he joined the ranks of the paladins. Straining on her tiptoes to see through the crowd toward the tournament fields, Isabelle missed what was right in front of her: Thindle Perkins. He had asked her father for her hand in marriage, never mind that Isabelle was waiting for Luke.
“My dearest Izzy. I'm so glad you decided to accept my invitation.”
Why, the little toad, the weasel. “I am here of my own accord and on my own behalf.” Isabelle would have stepped away, but a rather large woman and her brood of children were just now pressing through the crowd to Isabelle's right. Even if she made a decided bolt for it, she'd not get far. She ground her teeth.
Thindle grabbed her hand, his own fingers thick and clammy. “So I suppose your father has told you of our engagement.”
Isabelle pulled her hand back, “We're not betrothed.”
Thindle smiled with a triumphant and nasty pride. He had all of his teeth, and while short, very short, and somewhat round, he was rich. Of course, he expected Isabelle's father to agree to the marriage. “It is only a matter of time, my dear. Certainly your family will approve of such an illustrious match.”
“You made an offer. I have not agreed to a betrothal.” Isabelle found the opening she needed and with a sharp, “Excuse me,” she slipped into the space in the crowd, hoping Thindle wouldn't follow.
“Izzy!” The nasal whine behind her rose in pitch and power while Isabelle darted between a pair of farmers. Dodging around three women, she rushed through the crowd. After a quick check behind to make sure she was hidden, Isabelle ducked into the stables.
“You made it!” Stefan, Luke's best friend and likely the reason her beloved became a paladin in the first place, grinned from the back, where he was caring for his horse's hooves. Her intention had only been to hide, but finding Stefan here gave her a sense of unbridled joy. Where Stefan went, Luke was sure to follow.
“Where's Luke?”
“Out moping. He went to buy some meat and cheese.”
Isabelle liked Stefan. He always had a kind word and high spirits. But Luke had captured her heart long ago. “Why would he be moping? You said he was looking forward to seeing me here.”
Stefan raised an eyebrow at Isabelle over MudFlank's rump. “You went and engaged yourself to another man. You can see how that might not sit so well with Luke. I'm sure he'll get over you, but visiting him now will rub salt in the wound.”
Isabelle crossed her arms. “Just because a man offers for me does not make me engaged. I do have some say in the matter, and how would he find out anyway?”
“The gossips have you wearing the wedding wreath in a matter of weeks. Good 'ol Thimble Perkins, rich and eager. He’s been bragging up and down the coast about the lovely girl he’s planning to marry.” Stefan returned to MudFlanks, sliding his hand along the foreleg of the horse while he chuckled.
“You're not nearly as funny as you think you are.” Isabelle stood quietly. She couldn't very well sit in the stables in her new dress. She'd stitched the hem herself, though her mother had done the sleeves and bodice. Everything had to be perfect.
Now that she had found Stefan, she'd just wait for Luke to show. It couldn't be terribly long. She didn't count on Thindle blustering into the stables.
“There you are, my Sweet. You do realize that things will go worse for you if I have to follow a merry chase every time we attend a function together.” Thindle curled his lip as he stepped into the stables in his finery.
“I came alone to the tournament.” Isabelle said, “And I don't appreciate being followed.”