Read Online The Descent by Alma Katsu - Free Book Online Page A

appeared at that moment, his hair loose and leonine, the first few buttons on his shirt undone to give me a peek at his chest, and his jeans twisted so they were tight across his hips. He’d thrown an arm over his face to shield his eyes against the sun, but I could still see the lower half of his face, including his strong mouth, and I recalled how kissable it was. The sight of him was tempting.
    Where’s the harm in a cuddle? I thought, even though I knew we probably would not stop there. And if we were to indulge this once . . . if I leaned over him for a kiss and took the opportunityto press full against his chest . . . if I reached down to undo the fly of his jeans, and unleash the passion that I knew was inside him . . . would I be lost to him for good? Could we stop again after having done the deed once?
    But why not try it and see? a voice in my head asked. After all you’ve been through the past year, nursing your dying lover, it is time for you to be reborn. And you know this man; you’ve been in his bed a thousand times already. Stop thinking and do something about it. Go over and kiss him. Tell him you want him to take you right here, now. Tell him that you want him inside you, like the old days. Where is the harm?
    I was about to abandon my cards and slither over to him when he said unexpectedly, “There’s been something I’ve been meaning to talk to you about.”
    “Oh?” I said, already half risen to my feet.
    “It has to do with the girls.”
    Ah yes, the two women who had fallen for Adair and were sharing his bed. I had somehow forgotten about them in the heat of the moment. There was the harm in succumbing to temptation: it would be an entirely impetuous and selfish act with consequences that would harm them . A chill settled over me. It would be irresponsible to just do as we pleased. We both had responsibilities, after all: he, the girls; and me, rescuing Jonathan.
    He sat up and leaned forward, his forearms resting on his knees, oblivious to the thoughts I was battling. “It’s hard to explain, but ever since Robin and Terry arrived, I’ve had the feeling that something—strange—is going on. I’ve had no one to discuss it with, but now you’re here, I thought . . .” He shook his head, impatient with himself.
    To be honest, I was annoyed that he’d brought up the girls. I felt as though I’d been doused with cold water, though it was undoubtedly for the best. I quickly regained my composure. “What is it?” I asked, pushing the cards aside. “Out with it. You can tell me.”
    “All right. Just remember—you asked for it.” He hesitated. “The story of how we met, me and the girls, all that was true. They turned up on my doorstep, just as they said, but at the time, I sensed that there was something familiar about them. From the moment I met them, I knew that I’d seen them before. And then it dawned on me”—he flicked an unsteady glance my way a second time to make sure I was still following him—“they reminded me of a pair of sisters I knew centuries ago.”
    “So? It was déjà vu; they reminded you of someone else. That’s not uncommon.”
    “There’s more to it than that. You see, these sisters were witches.” He rushed the words out of his mouth as though he was embarrassed to say such a thing. “Their names were Penthy and Bronwyn. Robin is very much like Penthy. They have the same blond hair, both high-strung and flighty. Terry is just like Bronwyn, bossy and headstrong. They lived in the English fens land, out in the woods”—here he hesitated, avoiding my gaze—“in a giant tree. They admitted to being witches right away. They said they’d come from a long line of witches, and had been banished to the forest by the townsfolk, who had been afraid of their mother. They were something, those sisters. Beautiful, but a touch mad, I think. You could see it in their eyes.
    “That night, I stumbled through the fens wood in thedark, lost, sure I