Salvation by Stephanie Tyler Read Free Book Online Page B

“It’s a party night out there.”
    She did. Now that the fight was over, she was a bit lighter, if not tired. With her hand firmly in his, they walked out into the controlled melee.
    Keller had heat lamps set up everywhere, which warded off a lot of the incessant chill, and the proximity of the crowds did the rest, although she still wore a sweatshirt. The crowds were the same as they’d been, except people were milling around instead of heading toward the warehouse. There were colored lights strung up everywhere—and working—which in and of itself was different. It looked like a giant carnival and she was like a kid in a candy store. Post-Chaos in Defiance, she’d never really wanted for anything, but for the first time she realized that the world was still out there and functioning. It was easy to see in the imported clothing, the new cars, the variety of foods. There was a good part of the world that was still up and functioning and her eyes were wide again.
    “Does everyone else realize what all this means?”
    He urged her to lower her voice. “No, and you don’t either.”
    So she wasn’t wrong. “Do they not care?”
    “I think they don’t know what to do with it,” he told her. “Great, there are parts of the world that might be functioning the way ours did at one point. How do you know it’s true? And if it is, how would you get there? How do you make money once you’re there? Most people want the easy way out. Most of them always have.”
    She nodded, took everything in. The lights. The carousel. People roaming around with their kids. Like kids. She ate cotton candy and watched fireworks. “Is it like this every night?”
    “Pretty much nonstop.”
    All the money that went into this. Then again, it was Keller’s money, so what should he be spending it on? World peace? Even Defiance wasn’t that big of a do-gooder.
    Suddenly, mercifully, the music switched to a slower tune...and the opening bars of Axl’s whine came though the speakers.
    She glanced up at him in surprise as the familiar song brought goose bumps to her arms. “Did you plan that?”
    “I might have some pull.”
    “I bet you do,” she murmured, let him tug her into his arms. He wrapped them around her waist, splayed a large hand on her lower back.
    In turn her arms went around his neck. He was so tall, she had to tilt her head up to see him, and she was nearly up on tiptoes. And they were back and it was somehow just the two of them, dancing to “Patience” (ironic that the title of the song was something Bishop had a lot of experience with, at least in dealing with her) and that same feeling when she’d first seen Bishop was here.
    Pressed to him, it didn’t matter where they were or for how long. She knew they’d be okay. And so they swayed to the music and she was back to looking at his tattoo and watching the wings beat, and this time she was stone cold sober. Her fingers traced the ink and she heard him humming along to the music.
    When the song ended, it was immediately replaced by the fast, charging beat again, and it was completely jarring. She buried her face against his chest as he murmured, “Where do you want to go now?”
    After spending the day underground, she’d been eager to be outside. Now, she felt more overwhelmed than anything. Her brain was on overload. She looked up at him and managed, “I want to get out of here.”
    He didn’t argue, simply allowed her to stay partially snuggled into him as the moved away from the worst of the carnival atmosphere. Once she could actually hear herself think, she told him, “The first night you came...I’d been planning on leaving.”
    “Yeah, I know,” he said casually.
    She stopped, pulled away from him. “What do you mean you knew?”
    “You had a bag in your car. A go-bag,” he explained.
    “You went through my things?”
    “You kissed me,” he countered. “I didn’t even know your name.”
    “So you figured going through my underwear would