“Fiona.”“What? Come on.”“Fiona, I ... want to talk.”She frowned at him. “Why?”“Why?” He gave a small tug, and she had to come back...onto the middle of the roof to not fall over. “Because you don’t seem to want to.”“I dinnae understand.”“We nearly died in that tunnel, Fiona. Julias died that same night. Jack’s got some sort of curse doing only Lord knows what. Hunters are everywhere. And ... and I nearly killed you.” Much as he knew his words carried weight, they didn’t seem to land. They bounced. Which is causing my mind to slip back to the mid-summer of ’07, and what took place. I got off work and caught a cab to the airport to take a trip to Fresno, and then drove back to Texas in a weekend. I landed in Phoenix and had my cell go off. It was her asking where I was. She was just now heading to the Fresno airport to wait the hour the flight would take and asking if I still was going through with this, to which I said that it was too late to turn back. Arriving in Fresno, I finally met. More

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