Free Anew: Book Two: Hunted by Josie Litton Page B

so intense that it robs me
of breath. When I open them again, Ian is staring down at me. His gaze is
darkened by concern.
    “Are you all right? What’s wrong?”
    It’s on the tip of my tongue to assure him that I’m fine
when I stop myself. Treacherous longing uncurls deep inside me. I have so
little time with him…
     “I’m still a little dizzy. I could use some fresh
air.”
    My cheeks flame at the bold-faced lie. Apparently there’s
nothing I won’t stoop to in order to be alone with Ian. Just for a few minutes.
Where’s the harm in that? Hundreds of people surround us. More than a few of
their eyes are on us. With such diligent chaperones, we can’t possibly get into
any trouble. Can we?
    “Let’s step outside,” Ian says. Holding my hand, he leads me
from the dance floor. I go with him gladly, only hoping that I can control my
unease near the reflecting pool. I’m fully aware that the problem I have with
standing bodies of water is directly related to the torturous years of
intermittent consciousness in the gestation chamber. But recognizing that and
being able to control it are two very different things.
    When I realize that Ian is leading me onto a stone terrace
that extends from the opposite side of the Crystal Palace, out of sight of the
pool, I all but sag with relief. We are on the western edge of the park, facing
a broad swath of lawn studded with gnarled trees. Beyond it lies a low wall of
gray stone covered in lichen. On the far side of the wall is an avenue lined
with tall, stone-faced buildings, many dating from the previous century. They
are home to some of the cities wealthiest and most powerful.
    The air is cool and slightly moist. Before I can stop him,
Ian takes off his jacket and lays it over my shoulders. I breathe in the scent
of the fabric that still holds the heat of his body. The sensation of comfort
and protectiveness is all but overwhelming but I don’t dare yield to it.
    Instead, I say, “You don’t have to do that.”
    “Do what?” he asks, his voice low and deep, close to my ear.
    My hands clutch the lapels, holding onto them as though I am
holding onto him. I stare out at the twinkling lights that fill the trees. “You
don’t have to take care of me. We aren’t together anymore.”
    I’m reminding myself more than him. The world in which I
find myself is too full of danger. I can’t afford to indulge in any fantasies
about the two of us.
    He stiffens beside me. With surprise? Displeasure? I can’t
be sure which.
    “Maybe I’m just being chivalrous.”
    I turn, forcing myself to face him. “You feel responsible
for me but you shouldn’t. We both know that you never asked for me to be in
your life.”
    He frowns as though he isn’t following me. “I didn’t know to
ask. I could never have imagined you. You were a gift, in every sense of the
word. The most amazing, remarkable, and--” His mouth quirks slightly.
“--challenging gift that I would never even have thought to dream of.”
    His words and the warmth with which he speaks them bring a
sudden rush of tears to my eyes. I blink it back fiercely, struggling for
control. No matter how much I want to believe his version of us, we can’t deny
what my existence has done to him.
     “A gift?” I scoff. “One that’s forced you to relive
the past and confront demons you thought had been put to rest a long time ago.
Who would ever ask for that?”
    He shrugs. “No one, probably. But knowing you, being with
you has made me realize that not dealing with the past doesn’t resolve
anything. Old sins just fester and become even more destructive.”
    “They aren’t your sins.” At the very thought, anger rises in
me. “You were only fifteen years old. The guilt was your father’s, not yours.
He involved you in that terrible place.”
    Ian is silent for a moment, gazing at me intently. Slowly,
he strokes the backs of his knuckles along my cheek. The pad of his thumb finds
and tugs lightly at my lower lip. At