were going, the city towers whizzing past outside the window, and just kissed this man who was giving her the most precious gift of all: freedom.
Jak was so lost in kissing Arianna, he didn’t realize they had stopped.
The bright morning sun glinted off the bare girders all around them in the construction site. Sarra had pulled the Jeep right up onto the bare dirt, next to the construction company’s trailer and several ten-foot-high stacks of sheetrock and lumber. An enormous crane stood silent and unmoving in the center, with a half dozen lifts and diggers filling out the wide-open construction area and waiting for the contractor to settle their dispute and return to work. Half-constructed skeletons of buildings surrounded them on three sides, but at least one had the ground level built out. There were concrete floors and some sheet rock walls up: enough to give them privacy for the spell.
And there was plenty of equipment to bury him once it was done.
Jak was loathe to move Arianna even a centimeter off his lap, but the rest of the crew had already climbed out of the Jeep. He gently eased her down from the high seat of the car, keeping a hold on her hand as he followed her out.
Circe was giving disgusted looks to the dirt-packed ground, but she gamely was making her way in teetering heels toward the enclosed building. Arianna’s brothers were following close behind, but Sarra was holding back, waiting for him and Arianna. And openly glaring at Jak.
She had to know something was up. She knew him better than anyone else here, and that was just the problem: she might guess what was happening before he could complete the spell. He just hoped she wouldn’t say anything… until it was too late to stop it.
Then she could curse him as much as she wanted.
He laced his fingers with Arianna’s and pulled her closer as they trudged toward the building. Not only did he want to touch her as much as possible in these last moments, but he had a feeling his love for Arianna was a kind of shield—one that would make Sarra hold her tongue.
He was right: Sarra’s hot glare finally left his face and dropped to their clasped hands. Then she turned away and marched with stomping boots toward the witch and his fate awaiting in the construction building.
Arianna snuggled closer to his side. “Sarra’s just angry because she doesn’t want to see you get hurt.” He could feel the tremors racing through her body, one small hand holding his, the other gripping his arm. “She’s afraid.”
He frowned down at her, his heart skipping a beat. He knew she was talking about herself as much as Sarra. “There’s no need to be afraid. When I’m…” He swallowed down the lump growing in his throat. “When I’m going through the spell, your brothers will be here to take care of you.”
She peered up at him with an earnest look full of love. Which just made his heart swell… and calmed the writhing tentacles of fear working through his body.
“I’m not afraid.” She was lying; he could feel the fear in every quiver of her body. “I trust you, Jak.”
He blinked, a tsunami of doubt threatening to pull him under. He was lying to her. His last and final act with her would be a lie. He hated that—hated every part of it—but it was necessary. He prayed she would forgive him in the end. For now… he pulled her to a stop and kissed her once more, soft and sweet. Then he laced his fingers with hers again and picked up the pace toward the building. He needed to do this before he lost his nerve altogether. Or Sarra put the pieces together. Or anything else could go sideways to stop it.
Everyone was waiting, a tense circle of silence, when they arrived at the shadowy half-built building. The sun only penetrated in strips that painted the floor with prison-bar shadows that were really reflections of the girders. It gave an eerie half-light, half-dark feel to the concrete-and-bare-steel skeleton.
Sarra was still fuming.
Jak