Catalyst

Chapter Seven

James shrugged his wide shoulders and took a few steady bites of his dinner. His movements were slow and she had the impression that he was trying very hard to appear calm and unafraid.

"I don't know, to tell you the truth," he said after a long, quiet moment. All of the lights were off, save the one dim, glowing bulb in the kitchen, casting the floor in shadow. The rest of the house felt disconnected. It was just them, floating in an empty kitchen, sitting alone at the counter. It made Phoebe feel better; pretending that the mess around them might not actually exist. It was in the dark, and what she couldn't see couldn't hurt her. Couldn't make her think of the woman in the photograph, in the hands of hunters. Dead, or close to it.

"If the hunters got Linda," James mirrored her thoughts, "then they probably also got Jason, unless she sent him away somewhere. But I would have no way of finding that out." He pushed his bowl away and reached for Phoebe's hand. She removed her fingers from the side of the bowl, where they had been sucking the warmth from her food, and let him lace his fingers with hers.

She looked at him, expecting a kiss, or a longing stare, even his broken features from earlier, but he was looking down at the counter, adamantly avoiding her gaze.

"I think you should go home."

She ripped her hand out of his, suddenly furious.

"What?"

"It's too dangerous for you here. It's ridiculous I took you in the first place. Linda's dead, I don't know where she left Jason. For all I know he was here, with her, and he's gone now too. He was only eight. There's no one left." He still wouldn't look at her.

"Where are you going to go? If I leave you, and I'm not saying I will, where would you head? If you have no one, why would I leave you alone? You're being dense if you think I would just abandon you!"

His head jerked up and she was positive this time that something in his eyes was moving. The blue and gold shimmered and shifted in his irises so they looked alive.

"I'm not going to let you get killed!" His yell shocked her into silence.

James stood and grabbed his bowl, throwing it roughly into the sink, so that she heard the shards rattle around as it broke. She jumped in her chair at the sound. Her muscles were locked into place, her lungs frozen.

His hands on the edges of the sink, James leaned over and took a shuddering breath, his back hunched as if he might be sick.

"I can't let you die."

"I won't." She stood and made her way over to him, resting a cautious hand on his back, which was slightly damp with sweat, despite the stale air. "You won't let me get hurt; I know you. I may not have known exactly what I was signing up for, but I knew you were being hunted, and I knew it wouldn't be a walk in the park. I'm scared, I won't lie about that, but we'll find someplace to go. A different country maybe, or continent. Somewhere they won't think to look. We'll figure something out, and I won't leave you until I know you're safe."

"And school? Your life? What if I'm going from place to place for years, trying to stay off their radar?"

She rested her head against his shoulder, wishing he would turn around, but afraid of what the look on his face would say.

"Then I'll be right there with you." James flinched like she had slapped him.

"That's just—" the sound of shattering glass cut him off and he immediately spun around and used a heavy arm to swerve her around him until he faced the entryway of the kitchen, knees bent, and she was behind him, pressed into the edge of the sink.