When Lightning Strikes

What if he was afraid? What if he needed her? She didn't want him ever to be alone again; they'd both been lonely for too long....

She stumbled back from the piano, seeing the pictures through a blur of tears. She knew she should call Dr. Gray, should check herself back into the hospital. The thought caused a shudder of revulsion.

She drifted into her bedroom and crossed to the window. Wind clattered against the glass, rain turned it into a rectangle of squirming silver threads. She hugged herself and stared, dazed, at the display of nature's power. Strangely, she was unafraid. For the first time in her life, the storm didn't scare her.

Another lesson learned, she thought bitterly. Another demon exorcized.

And she didn't care. She'd gladly live with fear again for just one more second with Killian. Just one more kiss.

For a heartbreaking second, she felt him beside her, felt the warmth of his arms around her, saw his sexy

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smile as he reached toward her. One kiss, Lainie. Just one ...

With numb fingers, she flicked the metal latch and shoved the window open. Cold, fresh air hit her in the face, rustled her dirty hair. It smelled of pine and cedar and rain, just like it always did.

It hurt, that ordinary, everyday smell. Hurt more than she could have imagined. Tears blurred her vision, turned the backyard into a wash of shadows. Droplets splashed down from the trees and splattered the muddy green of her lawn, running along the fence line in a moonlit, silver rivulet.

Lightning struck in a white-hot bolt. The electric tip smacked into a dogwood tree, setting off a fiery shower of sparks. Thunder vibrated through the house, rumbled in the floorboards. The thick, acrid smell of smoke wafted through the open window. Another bolt exploded through the night and caused a brilliant, unearthly white glow.

Then everything went black.

"Damn." She sagged, too tired right now to deal with another power outage. Turning away from the window, she felt her way across her bedroom and reached for the stash of thick white emergency candles she kept in the box beneath her bed. Lighting a dozen or so, she placed them around her room, on every flat surface, until the walls glowed with a rose-gold sheen. Overhead, the Day-Glo stars twinkled against the dark blue paint.

It looked like a night sky in the Arizona desert.

Don't think about it. Don't... But she couldn't think of anything else.

Sagging onto the bed, she drew the soft blue coverlet around her and lay down, curling into the smallest, tightest ball she could. The fleecy folds of the blanket

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coiled around her and should have been warm. If only she weren't so cold inside ... so cold ...

A quiet, desperate little sound caught in her throat. Tears burned behind her eyes and ached in her chest, but she couldn't release them. She was afraid that if she cried, she'd feel better, and she didn't want to feel better, she wanted to hurt just like this for the rest of her life. As long as she was in pain, it was all real.

She drew her knees tighter against her chest and closed her eyes. Come to me, Killian. I'm here.

She waited, breath held, for an answer, but there wasn't one.

The magic was gone.

No, she thought dully. It wasn't gone.

It had never existed at all.

Tears scalded her eyes and shuddered through her aching chest. She didn't try to stop them this time, couldn't. Sobbing, shaking, she curled even smaller, tried desperately to disappear.

You're safe now. I love you. Lean on me, Lainie.

She tried to bring forth an image of him before his death, but she couldn't do it, couldn't remember his smile, his laugh, his sexy eyes. All she could see were the last moments, the gasping, quiet way he'd said her name, the deathly pallor of his skin.

/ knew I wouldn 't be there for you.

"Oh, God," she moaned.

Suddenly a gust of wind smacked the house, rattled the windows. Her curtains billowed against the wall. Icy air swept into her room, bringing a flurry of leaves with it. Downstairs, the door banged open with a crash. The house clattered and shook and moaned at the onslaught.