The Forgotten Locket Read Online Free Page B

would have been here waiting for you, but I misjudged the time.” He shook his head briskly, absently. “I can see you, but not much else. The river, of course. I can still see that. But everything about the river is muddled—the past, the future. It makes it hard to know where I’m supposed to be.”
     
    “Be with me,” I said. My thoughts drifted as if in a dream. I couldn’t stop looking at his mouth. I didn’t understand most of what he was saying, but the shape of his lips was mesmerizing. Inviting. I wanted to touch them, taste them. I wanted them to tell me his name.
     
    His arms tightened around me as the embrace melted into a caress. “Always.” He exhaled the word, his breath hot on my cheek.
     
    The world around me softened and blurred. The sensation of being in a dream was stronger than ever. I felt lighter than air. I raised myself up on my toes, sure that with that small push, I would float away into the sky.
     
    Instead, my lips met his, and if I had wished to fly before, now I was soaring.
     
    His hands trailed lines of light up my back and along my neck as he held me close to him. His mouth moved on mine with an intensity as fierce as the summer sun.
     
    My fingers and toes tingled, but the rest of me melted into something soft and ethereal. A breath wrapped around a liquid core.
     
    “Who are you?” I asked dreamily when he finally released me and I could speak again. “And where have you been all my life?”
     
    His mouth curved in a small smile. “Are you feeling all right?” he asked with a hint of confusion.
     
    “Mmm, never better,” I said, lifting up on my toes again, wanting to taste that smile in another kiss.
     
    Instead he pulled away, moving his hands from my back to my shoulders. He held me at arm’s length, and I had the feeling he was somehow studying me with his wounded eyes.
     
    I felt a giggle bubble up inside me. “You’re cute when you’re serious, do you know that?” I tilted my head to the side, mirroring his position. “Can I see your face?” I asked suddenly. “All of it. I want to see your eyes.” I reached up and touched the side of his blood-stained bandage.
     
    He stepped back quickly, shaking his head. “No, don’t—”
     
    I lowered my hand, a smear of red on my fingers. “Why not? What happened to them? You’re not blind, are you? I thought you said you could see me.”
     
    A tremor traveled through him. He controlled it quickly, though his body remained taut and tense.
     
    “Let me see your eyes,” I said again, a little worried. “Maybe I can help.”
     
    “How long have you been here?” he asked quietly.
     
    I shrugged. “Does it matter?”
     
    “How long?” he demanded in a voice close to a shout.
     
    “I don’t know!” I shouted back. “I don’t even know where I am. But I know I hate it here.”
     
    A muscle twitched in his jaw. “Where is the door?” he asked.
     
    “What door?” I glanced around, wondering if perhaps I had overlooked something, but the barren landscape held nothing but us.
     
    He frowned, a deep line crossing his forehead.
     
    “What is your name?” he asked, but it didn’t seem like he wanted to know. It seemed more like it was a test.
     
    “What kind of question is that?” I laughed. “It’s . . .” I started. “My name is . . .” And then my mind went blank. Or rather, it went black, the darkness creeping in from the edges of my consciousness. Terror followed, slipping in behind the shadows. How could I not know my own name? A cold sweat lined my scalp, left damp trails down the back of my neck. My mind felt thick with questions, stuffed with noise and chaos.
     
    “What is my name?” An edge appeared in his voice, diamond-sharp and demanding. Another test.
     
    I shrugged again, feeling a flare of anger cut through my confusion. “You tell me. You seem to know all the answers before you even ask the questions.”
     
    He took a deep breath and his whole body sharpened