Emily waited for the explosion of pain, and when she felt none, she knew she was dead.  She hadn’t moved fast enough, and Jacob had no doubt hit her square between the eyes and dropped her like a sack of flour. 

She had somewhat of an idea of what to expect next; Tristan had let her read through his frenzied account of his and Mary’s Adventures in the Underworld one languid and rainy afternoon.  She did her best to hold on to the warmth of that memory, of drapes closed tight against the diffuse daylight and nothing at all between them as she read and he dozed, to let it ease her into the afterlife.  After the initial darkness she found herself in, she’d no doubt find herself face to face with him again.  This time, there would be no rescue.  This time, she was staying dead.

She very slowly became aware of sounds around her – water dripping, a quiet shuffling sound, the ticking of a clock.  The sounds were followed by the feral mingled scents of sandalwood and cigarettes, and she began to wonder if her initial diagnosis was correct after all.  When she finally dared to open her eyes, she was unable to stifle her scream.

Less than two inches away, Jacob knelt in front of her.  She could hardly draw a breath as she tried to increase the distance between them and succeeded only in falling on her ass.  From her seat on the floor she watched in unthinking fascination as the red in his eyes seemed to flicker away like dying sparks, leaving the irises their normal shimmering deep amber.

Jacob: “We need to leave.  Now.”

Emily: “You just tried to kill me!”

Jacob: “No, I didn’t.”

Emily: “The hell you didn’t!  You were trying to throw that chair leg right between my eyes!”

Jacob: “If I wanted to kill you, you’d be dead already.”

Without another word, he stood up and walked past her out the door.  She cursed under her breath, got clumsily to her feet, and ran out after him.

Emily: “If you weren’t trying to kill me, why did you throw that thing at me?”

He replied by producing a pack of cigarettes.  She felt her patience waning as he took his time lighting one, then merely looked at her through a thin haze of blue smoke for a few seconds.

Jacob: “We were being watched.”

Emily: “What do you mean?”

Jacob: “There was a camera behind you; I had to break it.”

Emily: “How did you even know it was there?”

Jacob: “The buzzing was driving me out of my mind.”

Emily: “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

Jacob: “No, I’m not.”

Emily: “Can I have one of those?  My nerves are now officially shot.”

He held out the pack and lighter, watching with a half-smile as she tried to light the cigarette several times.  Her hands were shaking so badly she couldn’t work the lighter at first.  When she was finally able to get it lit, she took a deep drag and instantly broke into a fit of coughing.

Emily: “I haven’t smoked one of these things in years.”

Jacob: “They’ll kill you one way or another.”

Emily: “What, before you get a chance to?”

Jacob raised an eyebrow. 

Emily felt the strain of the night finally building to a breaking point as he continued to smoke his cigarette without comment.  She couldn’t explain her rage, why she felt so intensely angry over the death of a person she would have gladly killed herself.  One of her closest friends had been grossly violated, and his life would never be the same.   She couldn’t take back what had happened; she hadn’t even been able to grant his one request.  Furthermore, she knew damned well who’d put Nathan Holt up to the entire sickening affair.

Emily: “Just what the hell was that all about back there?  You stand there useless right up until we’re ready to leave, and then you just off the guy!”

Jacob: “I had to.”

Emily: “Why?”

Jacob: “We’d been there too long.”

Emily: “We were in there less than ten minutes!  He was leaving!”

She didn’t like the way he dropped his eyes, suddenly very interested in the way the rain was hitting the sidewalk.  She threw her hardly-touched cigarette to the ground with far more force than was necessary.

Emily: “Pretend I’m a complete idiot; spell it out for me if you think I need it.  You owe me an explanation!”

Jacob: “I got confused by all the buzzing and electricity and screaming, OK?  I thought he was someone else.  You do not have to yell at me.”

Emily stared in disbelief.

Emily: “Apparently I do since it’s the only thing that’s gotten you to talk to me.”

Jacob: “I’m not used to being around people I don’t loathe.”

Emily: “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Jacob’s took a last deep drag on his cigarette before discarding the butt unceremoniously in the gutter.  He opened the passenger door and slid into the car, quiet as ever, while Emily began to really feel the extent of her exhaustion.

With a deep sigh, she got into the driver’s side, wincing again as the door popped loudly in its hinges.  She sat with her eyes closed, not moving, for a solid minute.

Jacob: “Your face is still bleeding.”

Emily: “Great.  Maybe it’ll scar and my face can match my arms and chest.”

Jacob: “It’s hardly more than a scratch, but the smell of your blood is making me light-headed.  You don’t have to worry, I won’t eat you.”

Emily: “You’re seriously scary as hell sometimes.  Are you even remotely aware of that?”

Jacob: “I am, yes.”

She turned the key in the ignition and was relieved when the engine roared to life without complaint.

Emily: “Let’s just get the hell out of here.  Crack the window if you need to.”