Some Kind of Magic Read Online Free Page B

bitch,” he moaned, his body pinning hers to the floor.
    He was mad. He was furious.
    He writhed and bellowed on top of her.
    She reached behind her and managed to grab a tuft of his cropped hair. She yanked.
    He bellowed again, but didn’t release his hold.
    He jerked her fingers from his hair, quite a few strands coming with it, then proceeded to drag her across the floor to the dropped extension cord. The next thing she knew, his knee was in her spine, her arms pinned behind her back as wrapped the cord around her wrists. Al the while, Hallie watched, her mouth open in what looked like a happy smile.
    “Normally,” he said as he worked, his voice breathless, “I don't like to manhandle women. But I can say I'm actually enjoying this." He gave the cord another tug, then moved to the side. “Bend your knees and bring your feet up in the air."
    She should have been afraid of him, terrified of him, but the only emotion she felt was anger at being treated so callously. Instead of bringing up her feet, she rolled to the side and kicked at him with her heavy boots, making satisfactory contact with his knee. He let out a grunt of surprise, shoved her hard to her stomach again, pulled her feet up and wound the rest of the cord around her until she lay there like a roped rodeo calf. Then he got to his feet and headed straight for the bathroom.
    She heard water splashing in the sink. He must have been washing out his eyes.
    “I hope they catch you and put you in a maximum-security prison for the rest of your life!" she shouted. “I never used to believe in the death sentence!" She continued to shout so that he could hear her. “But your gentle manner has pretty much persuaded me to cast my vote in a new direction!”
    She watched as he stepped out of the bathroom. Without a glance in her direction, he cut through the living room to disappear into the bedroom.
    Ears straining for the slightest sound, she heard the creaking of the bed, heard him shifting his weight, getting more comfortable. Then silence.
    What?
    She listened.
    The silence gave way to gentle, rhythmic snoring.
    She made a sound of frustration while trying to kick her feet, only managing to pull her bindings tighter.
    ~0~
    “Hey, man. You alive?”
    Was he dreaming? It seemed so real, like something that was actually happening.
    “Hey, man. You alive?” the voice repeated.
    No.
    “Hey, man.”
    Dylan blinked, trying to focus. He couldn’t. There was something in his eyes.
    Blood. He had blood in his eyes.
    “I’m gonna go for help. Okay? You hear me?”
    Darkness sucked him down, sucked him in, swallowed him.
    Dark. So dark...
    Later, he came to.
    Cold.
    He tried to get to his feet.
    He couldn’t.
    Something held him down.
    A seat belt.
    With frozen fingers, he struggled with the catch, finally feeling the belt slip away. On weak legs, he stood. With a heavy thud, something fell to the floor near his feet.
    A gun.
    He put out a hand to steady himself, grabbing the back of the pilot’s seat, his fingers coming in contact with fabric.
    Jesus. The pilot. He was still in the plane. Slumped over the controls.
    Dead?
    Keeping his head bent beneath the low ceiling, he picked up the man’s wrist to feel for a pulse.
    He let go.
    The body was already stiff.
    How much time had passed?
    He turned away, feeling sick to his stomach. He picked up the gun, then shuffled to the doorway. He jumped, his legs giving out when he hit the ground, the snow swallowing him.
    ~0~
    Claire rolled around on the cold, hard floor, too pissed to care that she was bruising herself. All she'd accomplished in the last several hours was to cut off the circulation in her arms.
    Okay.
    Calm down.
    You can do this.
    She rested. The relaxation of her muscles created slack in the bonds. It was an extension cord—an old, thin one at that. How tough was an old, thin extension cord?
    She wormed her way across the floor until she was next to the woodstove. Maneuvering into position, she rubbed