Forever The World of Nightwalkers - By Jacquelyn Frank Page 0,53
stew into it and filling the second with water. He dropped down onto his haunches and scratched the animal that was the pride and joy of its breed. Chico had been a good dog, a dependable dog. A loyal one. He’d never given Jackson a lick of trouble. But neither had he learned so quickly. And Sargent, pound for pound, packed a serious bite. Those padded suits weren’t foolproof when it came to protecting the wearer, and a few of his volunteers had come out of training with a good show of bruising.
“Sorry about that, boy,” he apologized, still feeling pretty crappy about the dog going hungry all day long. He would have to start paying much closer attention to this weakness he was vulnerable to, start planning ahead and making provisions for all circumstances. He had to heed the lightening sky and not push it to the limit. After feeling that horrific and hot petrification clawing over him he had known it was not something he would ever willingly let happen to him again. And the vulnerability hadn’t been the worst of it. The whole time it had hurt, like someone was scraping up the length of every long bone in his body, the nails on the “I know.”. ichalkboard kind of pain taken to the nth degree.
“You could have warned me about that,” he said dryly to himself … or rather Menes.
It seems to me that I did. On many occasions.
“I guess words can’t quite convey the honest intensity of the matter. I know I share your memories, but I can’t access them yet. I guess … I guess I thought I knew.”
You never know, Menes murmured quietly in his brain, until you experience it for yourself. As is true of most things.
Jackson nodded even though Menes didn’t need the gesture to know he agreed and understood. But whether the Blending was complete or not on a physical level, there was still a lot of space between them on a spiritual level. As he had many times over the past three weeks, he wondered just how much of himself he would end up losing in order to make them a single individual.
Nothing, Menes assured him. Nothing of your soul, your memories, or the essence of who you are. But in the physical world … I am asking you to sacrifice a great deal, I know. I sometimes think we ask too much of our hosts. That asking permission in the Ether is such an inadequate way of preparing a human for what is about to come.
“Yeah, I have to agree with you there. And I understand what it is I have to do. I understand who it is we have to become,” Jackson said, a wistful sigh leaving his body. “There’s just things I’m going to miss,” he said as they scrubbed at Sargent’s ruffling fur.
“You know, normally if I entered a room and heard someone holding what seems like a detailed conversation without anyone else there they either have to A) be on the phone, or B) be a schizophrenic.”
He looked up, a smile touching his lips at her words. It grew as he took in her tousled and rumpled appearance. She looked like she’d just been engaging in bed-sport, her hair victim to the ravaging stroke of his fingers as he held her in place for—
No, no … bad thought, he told himself hastily. He absolutely could not let himself run wild with that thought or he’d get hard, he’d start craving things, and start wanting to kiss her lush mouth all over again. Bad enough that he still hadn’t erased the taste and feel of her from the front or the back of his mind.
“Good morning. Or … well, I guess it’s goodnight at this point.”
“Yes we’ve been here all day.” She frowned as she watched Sargent lick the bowl so enthusiastically that, now empty of food, it was moving across the floor with Sargent hot on its heels. “I called Landon on the way here last night. I told him my thoughts on the likelihood of finding the boy. Since Sargent isn’t a cadaver dog, do you think you’ll still be needed?”
There was a hell of a lot Sargent could do to help find that boy despite his training limitations. But …
“I won’t be going back out. Not after what happened. It’s time for me to leave town. Pack up my shit, quit the force, and just go.”