The Chase Page 0,14

now suddenly you've changed completely, and you're acting like-like-"

"I'm not the one who's changed," he said. Then, turning fully toward her, he said, "Can you look at me and tell me you don't think about him?"

Jenny was speechless.

"Can you honestly tell me that? That you don't think about him, ever?"

"Only to be scared of him," Jenny whispered, her throat dry. She had a terrible feeling, as if earthquakes and tidal waves were ahead of her.

"I saw you with him-I saw you looking at each other."

Oh, God, Jenny thought. Her mind was filled with panicked images. Julian's fingers in her hair, light as the soft pat of a cat's paw. Julian tilting her face up, Jenny flowing toward him. Julian supporting her weight, kissing the back of her neck... .

But Tom hadn't seen all that. He had only seen her and Julian together at the end, when Jenny's thoughts had been on getting her friends out of the paper house.

"I was trying to save us all," she said, safely on high moral ground. "You know that."

"And that means you didn't feel anything at all for him?"

Lie, Jenny thought. There was no reason she should have to lie. She didn't feel anything for Julian, But she was so confused-so frightened and confused-she didn't know what was going on anymore. "No," she said.

"I know you, Jenny-I know when something gets to you. I saw you-respond to him. He brings out another side to you, makes you different."

"Tom-"

"And I saw what he can do, everything he can do. He's superhuman. How can I compete with that?"

And there, Jenny thought, clarity returning, was the problem. If Tom Locke the Flawless had a flaw, this was it. He was used to always winning, and winning easily. Tom didn't do anything he couldn't do right the first time. He wouldn't try if he thought he was going to fail.

"Besides, you don't need me anymore."

Oh. So that was what he thought.

Jenny shut her eyes.

"You're wrong," she whispered. "I needed you all day today. And you weren't there... ."

"Hey-oh, Jenny, don't cry. Hey, Jen." His voice had changed. He put a hand on her shoulder, then an arm around her. He did it awkwardly, as if it were the first time.

Jenny couldn't stop the tears.

"Don't cry. I didn't mean to make you cry." He leaned over to grip her other shoulder with his other hand.

Jenny opened wet eyes.

He was looking into her face, and he was so close. The grim expression was gone, and in its place was concern-and love. Anguished love. In that instant Jenny saw beneath the smooth, polished exterior of Tom Locke's defenses.

"Tommy ..." she whispered, and her hand found his, their fingers locking together.

Then one or the other of them made a movement -Jenny never could remember which-and she was in his arms. They were holding on to each other desperately.

Relief flooded Jenny, and she gave a little sob. It felt so good to have Tom holding her again. In a moment he would kiss her, and everything would be all right.

But then-something happened. The RX-7's interior was small, like an airplane cockpit, and the center console curved out. Tom pulled back a bit in order to kiss her, and his hand or elbow knocked into the radio buttons. It must have, because suddenly music spilled into the car.

It was a song Jenny's mother sometimes played, an oldie by Dan Fogelberg. She had never really noticed the words before, but now they rang out clearly through the car.

"... Like the songs that the darkness composes to worship the light...."

Jenny recoiled, heart jolting.

God, who had thought of that? Who had ever thought of that? What did some seventies songwriter know about darkness worshiping light?

She was staring at the radio, transfixed. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Tom staring at her.

Jenny reached out and jabbed at the radio, and the car was plunged into silence.

She had to say something-but her mind was blank. All she could hear was the echo of Julian's voice saying, "I want her for... light to my darkness. You 'II see-Tommy."

The silence became terrible.

"I'd better get you home," Tom said in a voice as empty and polite as he had started with. "It's late."

"It was just a song," Jenny burst out, but she knew the song wasn't the problem. The problem was her reaction.

"You've changed, Jenny."

"I'm so tired of hearing that!" Jenny got her breath and added, "If I've changed so much, maybe you don't want me anymore. Maybe we