length there was to pour.
The door home stood open, unguarded. From this angle Jenny could see the rune Uruz on it, the inverted U flaring fire-red with power.
Through the door-and through the small window-she could see midnight blue. She glanced at the clock, which was still ticking away. 5:50 a.m.
Dawn was coming fast.
"Go on," Julian said, as if eager to be rid of them.
"Not without Jenny," Dee said.
Michael, Jenny thought, was surprised. He looked at Dee, opened his mouth. Zach's mouth was curled angrily. Audrey was shaking her head in doubt. Tom just stood.
Jenny looked away.
Julian's voice was impatient. "Well, go, stay, do whatever you want," he said. "I'll leave you to argue it out. But, remember, that door closes at dawn. Six-eleven sharp. If you're still inside, you're here for good-and I might not be in the mood for company."
He turned to Jenny. "This place is crowded."
"I know. There's a couch downstairs. We can sit on it and get acquainted."
They went.
The sofa in Jenny's grandfather's basement was shabby and lumpy but wide and very soft. It sank under their weight. Jenny found it odd to be sitting beside Julian like this, with no animosity, no need to pull away. No battles to fight.
It was a very private place. She knew the others wouldn't open the stairway door and come down, or even look in before they left the Shadow House. Julian's warning about not wanting company was sufficient. They all knew what he could do.
She looked up at him, to find him looking at her. So close. His eyes the color of a May morning.
Very deep, but very gentle.
She could feel his hunger.
And could feel herself trembling slightly. Her nerves jangling with excitement-and fear. But he didn't even touch her, at first. He just looked at her, with an expression she'd never seen on his face before. A look of wonder. The tenderness she'd seen when he was impersonating Zach.
"Are you frightened?" he said.
"A little." She was trying not to show it. She said lightly, "So you're the youngest Shadow Man."
"And the nicest."
"I believe that," Jenny said earnestly.
He did touch her, then, fingers light on her hair. Jenny felt the little inner stillness, the change in perception that comes before response. She shut her eyes and told herself not to think, not to feel anything but the featherlike touch. The lighter it was, the more it moved her.
She was surprised when it stopped. She opened her eyes-and was even more surprised at the anger in his face.
For an instant Jenny was really frightened, and the reality of what she was doing came home to her. Then she saw that Julian wasn't angry at her but-for her.
"You're so-innocent," he said. "That boyfriend of yours, that-Tommy, that spoiled, swaggering-he never thought about you, did he? Only about himself. And he botched it. I'd like to kill him."
This wasn't at all what Jenny wanted to think about. She started to say so, but Julian was going on, his eyes full of wild blue light.
"You want to watch out for that cousin of yours, too. He really does think about you, you know. I took that impression from life."
Knowing it was completely inappropriate, Jenny burst into slightly hysterical, but genuine laughter.
"... you're jealous," she said, when she could get her breath. "Of Zach. Zach doesn't like people, only lenses and things."
The dark look disappeared from his face. "It doesn't matter," he said. "He won't be able to get at you here. No one will, ever. I'll keep you safe. ..."
Jenny reached for him and lightly pressed her lips to his. He forgot about talking, then, and kissed back-such a soft kiss, his warm lips barely brushing hers.
But the soft kisses developed into slow shivery kisses and then into white-hot ones. She was still afraid of him, even as she clung to him-was it true that fear had to be a part of passion? Everywhere he touched she felt fire and ice.
Upstairs, the clock struck six.
Jenny pulled away from Julian, reluctantly. "I have to breathe," she whispered. She shook herself a little, then stood up. "Things are happening so fast."
He smiled as she walked around, getting her breath back, feeling her flushed cheeks cool. She couldn't look at him right now; she needed to regain her composure. Scarcely seeing it, she fingered the cobalt bracelet on the shelf.
"Why did you let me through my nightmare?" she said abruptly. "Sentimental reasons?"
"Not at all." He laughed. "I did play the Game fairly. I don't lie, even