This Wicked Game

THIRTY-THREE

This is what she remembered.

The rush through the forest, her body snug against Xander’s, her head bumping against his shoulder.

The rain, still falling. Not a cold drizzle but a healing warmth, washing her clean.

Allegra’s warm hand on Claire’s forehead. Her voice: “She’s too cold.”

Sasha’s eyes, dark and worried, when she spoke. “It’s okay, Claire. Everything’s okay. You did it.”

Then, the feel of cool leather against the back of her legs, her head in Xander’s lap. His head bowed over hers, tears falling onto her face.

She reached up to touch him, her blood-streaked hand resting against his cheek.