to live for."
Destiny pressed her palm to her mouth, ashamed that her hand was trembling. "You're different from me. You're good, you help so many people."
Mary Ann nodded her agreement. "Yes, I do, and without you, I would never have been able to help another woman or child. You've done that, not me. I couldn't have saved myself; I'd be dead right now."
"That's twisted logic," Destiny pointed out, but she found a small smile hovering on her lips in spite of the pain knifing through her. She had heard Mary Ann talk with other women many times, her voice always gentle and understanding. Mary Ann always knew the right thing to say to set her clients at ease. She was using that same gift on Destiny. "My name is Destiny." Her name sounded strange to her own ears, it had been so long since she had heard it. Saying it aloud was almost frightening.
Mary Ann smiled, her teeth very pretty, her smile contagious. "I'm so pleased to meet you. I'm Mary Ann." She stepped forward and held out her hand.
Before she could stop herself, Destiny gripped the outstretched hand. It was the first time in a very long while that she had touched a human being. Her heart slammed painfully in her chest and she jerked away, sliding back into the shadows. "I can't do this," she whispered. It was too painful to look into those clear eyes, to feel Mary Ann's warmth. It was easier to be alone, to hide in the shadows, forever a night creature.
Mary Ann stood quietly, faintly shocked by the extraordinary beauty of the young woman hiding in the shadows. She was smaller than Mary Ann had first thought - not short, but not tall either. She had lush curves, but her body was sculpted by muscle. Her hair was thick, wild, a mass of dark silk. Her face was arresting, her eyes enormous, haunted, long-lashed and mesmerizing. They were a vivid, brilliant blue-green, holding shadows and secrets and unimaginable pain. Even her mouth was sculpted and inviting. But she had much more than physical beauty. There was a subtle allure that Mary Ann had never seen before in a woman. The voice was musical, mysterious, compelling. Mystical. Everything about Destiny was different. Unexpected.
"Of course you can do this. We're only talking, Destiny. What's the harm in talking? I was feeling a little lonely tonight and I knew I had to see you." Mary Ann took a step toward the shadows that held Destiny, wanting to ease the terrible despair on that beautiful face. She had seen trauma many times, but those enormous aquamarine eyes were haunted beyond anything Mary Ann had ever known. Those eyes had seen things that should never have been seen. Monstrous things.
Destiny allowed her breath to leave her lungs in a little rush. "Do you know how many times I've watched you wield your magic on a woman in need? You have a gift for giving hope to someone who has stopped believing there is hope. If you think you owe me, you don't. You've saved my life many times over; you just haven't been aware of it. I listen to you often, and your words are the only thing in this world that make sense to me anymore."
"I'm glad, then." Mary Ann pulled gloves from her jacket pocket and drew them over her delicate hands to protect them from the biting cold. "You know, at times everyone feels alone and hopeless. Even I do. We all need friends. If you are uncomfortable coming to my home, perhaps we could get a drink at the Midnight Marathon. It's always a bit noisy in there. Would it really be so terrible to come and have a cup of tea with me? It isn't as if you're committing to a long-term relationship." There was an edge of humor to her voice, an invitation to join her in shared amusement.
"Tea? I haven't had a cup of tea in years." Destiny pressed a hand to her stomach. Her entire being wanted to bask in Mary Ann's company, but her stomach rolled at the idea of forcing herself to appear normal. She could only imagine the disgust and horror in Mary Ann's eyes if she learned the truth.
"Then I would say it's time. Come home with me," Mary Ann invited softly, obviously pleased.
The wind rushed over the steps toward the doors of the church, flinging up leaves and twigs. Above their heads the clouds began