She glanced up. From the way he arched his eyebrow, she gathered she’d scored another point against herself. Not that it matters. He doesn’t have to like me to help me find Evan. “No. I had a pet pig when I was a kid that became a family meal when it was big enough. I haven’t been able to eat pork since.”
“Ah, I see.”
She wondered if he did. His easygoing manner told her he’d never wanted for friendship—that he’d never been forced to find companionship from a pet because he couldn’t find it anywhere else.
“I noticed an incense burner on the mantel,” he said. “Would you like me to light it?”
She nodded, surprised he’d even noticed the burner, let alone would offer to light it, especially given his earlier hostility.
He walked to the mantel, and she resisted the temptation to watch him, looking up only when he sat back down. He placed the burner between them and flashed her a smile that made her heart do an odd flip-flop.
She obviously needed to sleep. She had to be exhausted if a simple smile sent her over the edge. She glanced away from the warmth of his gaze and found herself staring instead at his long, strong hands as he made short work of his meal. For the first time since she’d met him, she noticed he was wearing a ring. She was oddly relieved to see it was on his right hand, not his left.
Maybe she should get another room. Being confined with this man for any length of time was not a good idea. Especially if he keeps wearing those damn jeans.
She ran the spoon around the edge of the container, collecting the last of the yogurt. The small candle flickered and danced, and the smell of incense wafted toward her. She put the empty container on the table and sniffed the fragrance.
The pit of her stomach suddenly fell. Citrus smoke—the same sweet smell that had been in Evan’s room.
Darkness swept around her. She gripped the edge of the table fiercely, fighting the desire to follow wherever the dream might lead. Please, don’t let this happen to me now. Why couldn’t it hit when she was alone? As much as she wanted to find Evan, she didn’t want Jon to see her trapped in a vision.
“Maddie? Are you okay?”
No, I’m not! Can’t you see that? I’ve never been all right. But she couldn’t speak as the darknes
s encased her, sweeping her along for the ride …
Smoke coiled around the cabin, a dark plume that filled the twilight with the rich scent of citrus. In the far corner lay Evan and the other teenager, the mounds of their bodies almost lost among the heavy blankets covering them.
But her dream was not here for them this time. It swirled away, centering on the opposite side of the cabin. Two figures were silhouetted against the dancing light of a bright fire. Though she could see no features or clothing, it was obvious from their size and shape that one was male, the other female.
“Maddie.”
The soft voice broke through the dream. For an instant, the vision wavered, shimmering like a pond whose shiny surface is disturbed by a stone.
“Maddie, tell me what you see.”
Jon’s hand slid over hers, warm and strong. Maddie wished she could let go of the table and hold his hand, hold him, but the dream held her in its grip. She couldn’t move.
“What do you see?” he repeated softly.
“Evan.” She licked her lips. For the first time in her life she forced herself to concentrate on her vision. Despite the fire, the cabin was cold. The breath of the two figures condensed as they spoke, hanging in the air like smoke. Beyond the cabin confines, the wind howled, rattling windows she couldn’t see.
“Tell me what else you see.”
“It feels like snow.” Chill fingers of air crept around her, and she shivered.
“Do you see any people?”
“Two. One male, one female.” The woman had long hair that she brushed away with a cat’s paw. “She has claws. Cat’s claws.”
“Are they talking? Can you hear what they’re saying?”
“Only the woman speaks.” And though her voice was soft, its mellow sound stung Maddie’s ears, as grating as fingernails across a blackboard.
“What is she saying?”
“I don’t know.”