Free The Given by Vicki Pettersson Page A

tail.
    â€œAre you here to Take her?” Kit whispered.
    Grif shook his head. “No, she’s already gone.”
    She looked up. “Me, then?”
    He tried to soften it for her. It would be a shock for anyone to learn they were due to be murdered in two days’ time. “Not yet.”
    A shiver ratcheted up her spine at that. Guess it hadn’t come out as gently as he’d intended.
    â€œOf course,” she finally said, and sighed. “Why else . . .” Kit gestured at Grif, meaning why else would he be there. He’d have been offended at the insinuation if her life hadn’t been threatened so many times since he’d entered it.
    â€œHey, you’re the one sitting in a dead woman’s home,” he reminded her.
    Kit’s hand twitched on the .22. They were nipping at each other now, though it was better than having her cry or shake or scream about the body still cooling in the next room.
    â€œBarbara called me,” she said, standing. She lifted her chin, knowing that wouldn’t sit well with Grif.
    It didn’t. Grif narrowed his eyes. Had Kit actually become friendly with a woman who thought he deserved to die? Both Shaws got what was coming to them.
    â€œShe told me she had something to show me,” Kit said, joining his side. “But she also said she felt like she was in danger.”
    Grif tried to feel some sympathy for the dead woman. “Guess she was right about that.”
    Sympathy wasn’t his strong suit.
    â€œI saw the guy. I guess I could pick him out of a police . . . whoa.” She swayed, and Grif reached out to steady her. Yet all the strength had gone out of her arms, and it suddenly fled her legs, too. He had to lunge, his palm cradling the back of her skull just before it struck the bedpost. “What’s going on? Why do I see stars?”
    She meant literal stars . . . because Grif saw them, too. They were tiny and stabbed at her like brilliant needles, swirling around her so quickly that he got dizzy trying to track them. The plasma, Grif realized, too late. It’d been coming for her.
    If you choose this path, if you go back in time, nothing will happen as it’s meant to. You’ll be rewriting history, and fate will try to rip the pen from your hand and scribble over your intentions. Do you understand what I’m saying?
    He’d said yes, but he hadn’t. Not really. He’d come back intending on saving Kit two days from now . . . and fate had made a run at her early.
    Grif tried to focus, but her weight and warmth in his arms was familiar, and all he wanted to do was hold her tight. “It’s fate, honey. It’s switching up on you, altering directions.”
    â€œWhat does that mean?” she said, managing to lock gazes with him despite the specks of light encasing her like bees surprised from a hive.
    â€œIt means this is going to feel a little . . .”
    But her head jerked back then, eyes rolling with it as her body arched away from his, leaning hard into a backward dive. The speckled dots of light poured like a shining river into her mouth and her core convulsed, arms and legs jerking in rapid spasms. All Grif could do was hold her, but when he lifted her up to pull her close, her mouth fell open, tongue sparkling like she’d licked glitter. The same sheen of stars pasted over the whites of her eyes.
    Kit jerked from side to side, the motion of her body actually ripping her from his arms, and he fumbled to keep her from striking the bed and hurting herself. The movements soon evened out, blurring together until her body just hummed with a single vibration, like the beat of a heart monitor. One line indicating one life, one direction. One fate. She collapsed and fell still, the whole episode lasting less than thirty seconds, and all Grif heard was the rasp of his own rapid breath.
    He needed to get her out of there. She was destined to remain