Page 19 of Twisted Collide

A sudden smile sweeps up her cheeks, wiping away her frown. “Poseidon’s trident,” she repeats with a nod, as if the idea satisfies her.

I expect her to say more, but instead, she finishes her journey around the trident and jets off in the opposite direction.

I follow.

Of course I do.

“Now, where are you going?” I ask, growing more curious by the second and hating it.

“The vines look lonely.” She doesn’t bother looking back at me, stampeding forward at her signature clipped pace. “Duh.”

It’s quirky, odd, and exactly something she’d say, I’m starting to realize.

It should annoy me that she knows I’d follow.

Ididn’t even know I’d follow.

At this moment, she feels bigger than the moon above us. Than the Earth we’re standing on. Like she has a gravity of her own, and I’m lucky to be in her orbit.

I take a look around. Even with the moon and stars, it’s dark out here. Not exactly the best time of day to see the vineyard.

“So, you decided that this is the right time?”

“Tomorrow, I can’t.” I wonder what causes the sadness to her voice.

“And why not?” I press, not giving a fuck if I sound nosy. I am.

“Tomorrow, I report for duty.”

“Duty?” I ask, feeling like I’m going to have to drag this information out of her.

“Yes, my job. But we can’t talk about that, right?”

We had agreed not to discuss such things, but I really do want to throw that rule out, just to know a little bit more about her.

I shouldn’t care.

I should just turn around and go.

“Yeah. That’s right. No talk about our jobs.”

She takes a few more steps and then stops. I just about run right into her back. “Found them,” she says.

“Found what?”

She looks over her shoulder at me. Under the moonlight, her features are barely visible, but it doesn’t stop her from looking ethereal.

Like a goddess sent down from heaven to test my patience and tempt me to sin.

“The vines, silly.” A laugh bubbles up from her throat.

“Silly? That’s not something I’m called often.”

She shrugs but doesn’t elaborate.

I take a step closer, making my way to the space beside her.

Now, this close, I can see what she’s holding is a wine bottle, an already opened one.

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