Clockwork Twist : Dreamer by Emily Thompson Read Free Book Online Page B

amber light and looked at Twist silently, his eyes uncovered and glowing a soft green: almost Jonas's true color.  It was only then that Twist realized he wasn't standing up anymore.  He'd slid down onto his knees, leaning against the streetlight.  When he looked up, he felt the chill lines on his face and realized that he'd lost a few stray tears as well.  Recognition flashed through Jonas's eyes as well and Twist felt naked and idiotic.  He wanted to run again, but his body wouldn't move this time.
    Jonas gave a quiet sigh and stared down at Twist for a moment longer before he finally moved.  He fell to one knee very close to Twist and reached out, pulling Twist into his arms.  Twist was too stunned by this to fight, and it only took an instant for his Sight to flood with white.  The cool comfort in the fog was so numb, so bright, and so empty that Twist lost himself in it completely.  The warmth of Jonas's arms seemed to wash over him as his steady heartbeat poured hot down Twist's spine.  It felt like a lifetime before Twist managed to find the seam between them again.  By then, the ice inside him was gone and the emptiness just a memory.
    Jonas pulled away slowly, his hands moving to lie gently on Twist's shoulders.  It was only after Jonas moved his hand off of his neck—that spot that was always the source of the buzzing sensation—that Twist understood he'd touched it at all.  The white fog in his mind receded, but didn't leave completely, hanging at the edges of his mind.  He could see every dark thought still raged on behind it now, far away from Twist's sore attention.
    “Come on,” Jonas said softly, staring at Twist with purple eyes now. “Let's go get you a drink.”
    Jonas pulled Twist to his feet, tugged his collar into shape, and then led him down the street, with an arm over Twist's slight shoulders.  Figures passed them in the mist here and there, while other dim glows began to fill the street.  The noise around them was soft, but present.  Twist couldn't pay attention to where they were, or where they were going, so he let himself fall totally under Jonas's care.  Somehow, the loss of control didn't frighten him at all.  Eventually, they were inside again, out of the mist, and sitting down at a table.  There was cigar and pipe smoke in the air, and low conversations all around.
    Twist focused his reluctant attention to his eyes and looked around as Jonas spoke to someone else.  They were in a dim little restaurant or cafe, sitting at a small table in the corner.  There were other people here too, all men, but only half of them seemed entirely awake.  Some appeared to be asleep sitting up, leaning back in their chairs with their heads bowed.  Jonas's hand was still resting on Twist's back, very near his neck.
    “How do you feel?” Jonas asked Twist once the other person he was talking to went away.  His eyes were still a deep purple when they looked at Twist, and Twist felt the fog in his mind thicken when their eyes met.
    “I … I'm not...”  Twist's words seemed to only tumble from his grasp.  He took a breath and tried again. “I don't know,” he said eventually.
    “Did one of them touch you?” Jonas asked, his voice soft but unemotional.
    Twist shook his head.
    “Good,” Jonas said.  He moved his hand off of Twist's back, down his arm, and to his hand without once breaking contact.  He slipped his warm fingers through Twist's and gave another sigh.
    This new position was a lighter touch, and Twist felt his attention clear.  He slowly began to realize that he wasn't thinking properly at all.  Something was very wrong with him.  He frowned, wondering what it could be.  A moment later, someone came to their table and left two glasses.  Jonas picked one up with his free hand and gave it to Twist—still not breaking contact—and then took the other one.  He took a healthy drink of the honey-colored liquid inside, so Twist did the same.
    The taste of the