It was quiet in the safe house. Susanna and Jack couldn’t be sleeping, but they didn’t look up or speak as Dylan and Tristan slid in the door with the last of the fading light. They’d lingered outside as long as possible, soaking in the time together, but the wraiths were gathering. Tristan had hustled her to her feet at the first low hiss and urged her inside.
Neither Jack nor Susanna had lit the fire, and between that and the growing twilight outside, it was dark in the safe house. Dylan was glad for that, because she didn’t think she could control her face. Outside, she’d been able to forget, just for a while, what lay in store for them tomorrow, but in here, with the other ferryman and her soul, it was inescapable.
She thought she might cry. Or scream. Or puke.
Instead, she forced herself to follow as Tristan pulled her over to a spot against the wall, as far from the others as was possible, which wasn’t very far. There was no bed to lie on, and nothing beneath them but stone floor, but Tristan tugged her down anyway. He let go of her briefly to haul his jumper over his head, laying it down on the floor as a makeshift pallet.
It wasn’t comfortable, but Tristan arranged Dylan so that she was mostly lying on him. The hard floor still dug into her hip, but there was no point in complaining. It didn’t matter. She tried to relax, something which got a little easier when Tristan started stroking his fingers softly through her hair. She tried to commit the feeling to memory.
“Dylan,” he murmured. “Come here.”
She lifted her head to peer at him in the gloom. “I am here.”
“No.” He tugged at her, urging her higher. “Here.”
“Tristan!” She hissed the whisper a moment before his lips found hers. Really? He wanted to start kissing now, when Jack and Susanna were just feet away? They’d had most of the afternoon outside, he couldn’t have started it then?
Dylan’s cheeks burned, but she wasn’t going to draw away. This was her last chance to kiss Tristan like this, when the darkened safe house offered a semblance of privacy. Levering herself up so that she could get a little closer, she kissed him back, leaning into his touch when his hand snaked under her shirt and stroked across her lower back.
This was it, all she’d ever have of him. The thought shot through Dylan like a cannonball and turned the kiss desperate, raw.
“Hey,” Tristan said, breaking away. “Hey, it’s OK.”
She hadn’t even realised she was crying, but when Tristan’s thumbs smoothed across her cheeks she felt the wetness as he wiped it away.
“Tristan, I can’t. I can’t do this.”
He didn’t say anything, just sighed and held her.
“You missed your line,” she told him quietly.
“What?” The word came out as a puff of breath against her lips.
“Your line.” She tried hard to curve her mouth into a smile. “You’re supposed to promise to come with me, remember?”
She couldn’t read Tristan’s expression in the dark, but she felt it when he understood. He didn’t laugh, though, like she’d thought he would. Instead he tensed, his muscles drawing tight.
“No,” he said. “No lies, not even as a joke. I shouldn’t have done that to you, I’m ashamed of myself.”
“Tristan—” She hadn’t meant that, to break open old wounds. She’d just been trying to find a way to survive the moment.
“Tomorrow, at the line, I’m going to be happy,” he told her, “because I’m going to know that you’re safe. That nothing can touch you, nothing can hurt you, ever again.”
Dylan tried to shush him, to go back to kissing, because she couldn’t stand to hear this, but Tristan wasn’t done.
“Every single time I deliver another soul to the line, I’m going to stand as close to it as I can get, and I’m going to reach out and imagine that I can touch you. If you ever feel it, a brush of fingers that you can’t explain, know that it’s me and I’m there.”
“Tristan.” Nothing else would come out, no matter how hard Dylan swallowed. How was she supposed to manage the walk to the line? How could she walk through, knowing that Tristan couldn’t follow? “I can’t, Tristan. I can’t do it.”
“Yes, you can,” he whispered. “Because I’ll be beside you. Every step until the last.”
Until the last. The final step that Dylan didn’t know how she’d have the strength to take.
But there was no point wasting precious time worrying about it now. Dylan would face tomorrow when it came. Until then…
“Kiss me,” she murmured. “Please, Tristan, just kiss me.”