by Zoe Chant
They touched glasses and drank. The bloody Mary was ice cold and spiked with tabasco, refreshing and eye-opening. They shared the fried green tomatoes, with a crisp cornmeal coating over their juicy interiors, and the homey tomato pie. The sandwich was both light and hearty, like a steak salad, leaving her contented without feeling weighed down.
“That’s the first time in my life that I’ve had a three-course meal made almost entirely out of fruit,” remarked Ransom. “Four-course, if you count the bloody Mary.”
“You should, it’s basically a deli case in a plastic glass. But actually, there’s five courses.” With a flourish, she set a small styrofoam cooler on the tomato table. “And I’m not even going to fight you over the ‘fruit’ thing, because the last one is a dessert and eating a dessert made out of vegetables is just plain wrong.”
“I won’t argue with that. Roland brought homemade zucchini cake to the office once. We fed it to Blue when his back was turned, so we wouldn’t hurt his feelings. What is it, tomato sorbet?”
“Nope.” Natalie opened the cooler and lifted out their dessert. It had been so expensive that she’d only bought one to share, especially since there was every chance that it would be inedible.
They stared at the dessert in awe. It was a tomato, complete with stem and leaf. A very beautiful, peeled, juicy-looking, glistening tomato, sitting in a pool of wine-red caramel. Beside it was a scoop of cream-colored ice cream, exactly the size of the tomato, surrounded by crushed pistachios.
“What is it?” Ransom asked. “I mean, obviously a tomato—even if I couldn’t see that, I’d know from context—but…”
“It’s a caramelized tomato stuffed with twelve flavors, and star anise ice cream. Apparently it’s a dish from a restaurant that’s famous in Australia, which says something about how hard they had to look to find a tomato dessert.”
“What are the twelve flavors?”
“No idea. Let’s find out.”
They each took a spoon and dug in. Natalie had expected it to be weird, and it was, a little. But weird in a good way. Weird like Tomato Land was weird. Weird like her hair and his books.
“Lemon,” said Ransom. “Pistachio.”
“Vanilla,” added Natalie. “Almond.”
They considered the tomato, and both took another bite.
“Apple, definitely,” said Ransom. “And I think… orange?”
“And blueberries.” She ran her tongue over her teeth. “Pepper! Just a tiny bit of it.”
“Cloves,” said Ransom after a moment. “And cinnamon. That’s what’s giving it that almost apple-pie feeling.”
“That’s ten. Does the tomato itself count as a flavor?”
“I’m not sure. Does caramel?”
There was very little of the tomato left now, barely enough to share. Ransom drew a neat line with his spoon, dividing the final bite. “Last chance.”
Their spoons touched as they scooped up their shares.
“Mint!” Natalie exclaimed triumphantly.
“And pineapple,” said Ransom.
They’d been leaning across the table to share the dessert, but now that it was gone, they didn’t sit back. The air felt electric, as if there was a current running between them. Neither of them moved, but she knew he was going to kiss her.
I wonder if that’s what it feels like when he knows things, she thought. No, can’t be. It hurts him. This feels wonderful. Like the moment you jump off the platform holding the trampoline, in the split second before gravity takes hold. Free fall.
He kissed her. Or maybe she kissed him. Probably they’d moved simultaneously, like hands reaching out to catch in mid-air. The jolt when their hands touched was nothing to what it felt like when their lips touched. She’d never felt anything like it before. That one kiss set a fire that curled through her entire body and made all thought go up in smoke. It was the most glorious and thrilling moment of her life.
Her heart skipped a beat.
Not in the romantic way. In the awful, terrifying way that had sent her to the doctor in the first place, for the series of tests that would change her life. There was a steady rhythm to a heartbeat, an unvarying pulse of all-is-well, all-is-well. You don’t notice it until it breaks up into a series of stutters that spell out nothing you want to know.
He jerked his head back. “Natalie? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
But that jagged no-rhythm was still going. She thought wildly of running to the bathroom to breathe inside a stall, then returning to claim indigestion or the start of her period—some bodily TMI that would stop him from inquiring more.
Stress yourself more, while this is going on, and you’ll never even make it there, she thought. Or you’ll drop dead when you close the door behind you.
With a cold, detached resolve, knowing she’d never again find that passion and joy she’d felt in the first instant of their kiss, she pushed back her chair and sat down on the ground.
“Natalie!”
She’d have explained, but she couldn’t speak and breathe at the same time. She lay down on her side right there on the dusty ground, breathing deeply and rhythmically. One-two-three-four inhale, hold one-two, one-two-three-four exhale, hold one-two. One-two-three-four inhale…
Distantly, she was aware of strong hands lifting her, slowly and gently so as not to break her rhythm. Her head was in Ransom’s lap, and he was holding her, breathing with her, his hand curled around hers.
Very quietly, he said, “Do you want an ambulance? Squeeze my hand once for yes and twice for no.”
She squeezed twice, grateful to him for giving her a way to make her wishes known that wouldn’t affect what she needed to do, and more grateful that he cared what her wishes were.
“She doesn’t need a doctor,” he said, calmly but with an underlying edge of tension, his voice pitched to carry to onlookers. “I know this looks scary, but it’s not dangerous. It’s an inherited condition, like epilepsy. Please don’t crowd around, you’ll embarrass her…”
Natalie wasn’t tracking time, but it felt like it took longer than usual before her heartbeat returned to normal. When her vision cleared, she saw Wally lying beside her and licking her face, Heidi curled up beside her and nuzzling her throat, and Ransom looking down at her with a tenderness in his dark eyes that she could only perceive as love.
His arms tightened around her. “Can I carry you now?”
For an instant, she let herself relax into his warmth and strength and caring. There was nothing she wanted more than to let him lift her up and carry her home, safe and protected and loved.
Home. Where had that word come from? She’d never had a home, not a real one. Home was a place where you always belonged and never had to leave. The circus had been the closest she’d ever come to that, but she’d had to leave that too.
As for safety, that word applied to her even less. She trusted Ransom to protect her from the wizard-scientists, if they ever tried to come for her again, but he couldn’t protect her from her own failing body. Nobody could. She’d come this far and crammed in this much living into her short life by having no illusions. She wasn’t going to start conning herself now.
“No,” Natalie said. “I want to walk.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
She sat up, slowly so the blood didn’t rush to her head, and then stood. He supported her as she did, lending her the strength she needed. She stood blinking in the sunlight, then put on a bright smile for him and the rather large crowd that was lurking and fiddling with stray tomato-shaped things and pretending not to watch.
“Sorry,” she said, pitching her voice to carry. “I forgot to take my meds this morning. Let’s go back to the hotel and get them.”
“Good idea.” Ransom offered her his arm, but she gave him a quick head-shake. The dizziness had faded, her heart beat steadily within her chest, and she was afraid that if she laid hands on him now, she might not have the strength to let him go.
“I really do feel fine now,” she said. “We don’t need to go.”
Ransom gave her a long, considering look. “Would it still be fun?”
As usual, he’d cut right to the heart of things. She had never felt in a less fun mood in her entire life. “Probably not. But it’s so depressing if I have to leave and never come back because of this.”
“You can come back. We were going to swing back this way anyway, remember? To go paragliding. We can take an extra day for Tomato Land 2: The Reckoning.”
She was startled into a laugh. “You’re right. Let’s do that.”
But as they continued to walk, not even the thought of Return to Tomato Land could console her. How perfect everything was otherwise made her feel even worse. She was in a ridiculous, hilarious, marvelous, extremely American, and absolutely bucket-worthy place, with a pair of teleporting puppies and a man who was not only extremely sexy, but also brilliant, funny, brave, and kind. The one kiss they’d shared had been the sweetest and most joyous moment of her entire life, something she’d trade her entire bucket list to experience again.
And it had almost killed her.
Chapter 13
You’ll never come back, growled his hellhound.
No. Ransom caught himself shaking his head, as if they were speaking aloud. No. I’m going to save her. If I have to sacrifice my own life to do it, I will.
That’s too easy, his hellhound snarled. That won’t be how it works. Whatever your chance is, you’ll ruin it, like you ruin everything you touch.
With Natalie walking silent and sad at his side, Ransom wanted to comfort her. But he didn’t know what to say. And without the distraction of conversation, his hellhound began shoving people’s worst moments at him.
A young father walked by, bouncing his squealing toddler daughter atop his shoulders. Ransom saw him dressed in black at a funeral, a baby cradled in his arms. His grief was overwhelming, unbearable…
Ransom looked away, desperately searching for something else. Something happy. The glitter of a gold wedding ring caught his eye, and he saw a woman reaching upward to cup her wife’s head for a kiss. They were middle-aged, unglamorous, and looked very much in love.
And then his hellhound pounced, and he saw the one whose ring glittered in the sun barehanded and in dirty clothes, crouched on a sidewalk and shaking a cup with nothing in it but a few quarters. Hunger gnawed at her belly, and despair gnawed at her heart. Ransom tried to tear himself away, but his vision shifted to her wife as a teenager, opening the door and finding a grim-faced man in a military uniform. Before he even opened his mouth, she knew her father was dead…
“Ransom?” Natalie was looking at him quizzically. “Are you all right?”
Her question hit him like a punch to the gut. She was the one whose life was in danger, she was the one whose heart had nearly stopped, and she was worried about him.
She’s too good for you, snarled his hellhound. You don’t deserve her.
He couldn’t argue with that. And he didn’t want to make her worry about him when she had so much to deal with herself.
The sandpaper rasp of his hellhound’s growl filled his mind. You mean, you’re afraid she’ll be horrified if you told her what you really are. And you’d be right.
“Seriously,” she said. “Are you getting a migraine?”
“No.”
“Then what? I know something’s up. You can’t con a con artist.”
She was so small, so delicate-looking, but there was a startling strength in her. Like a steel wire stretched from pole to pole, thin but able to support the weight of a tightrope walker. He could hear in her tone that she wasn’t going to leave it alone.
Don’t tell her. His hellhound sounded almost… afraid. She’ll hate you. She’ll leave you. Imagine the look in her eyes of horror and disgust…
Ransom looked into her eyes. They were a clear pure blue, like the sky above. He wanted to take her into his arms and hold her close, so much so that not doing it physically hurt. He’d never in his life longed for anything so much as he longed to kiss her, both to comfort her and to once again experience that joy and passion and intimacy that had set him aflame, body and heart and mind.
But that was something they could never do again.
How could you have been so selfish and thoughtless? growled his hellhound. You knew her doctor warned her against strong emotions and excitement. You almost killed her!
I know, Ransom replied. His guilt was a physical pain, twisting in his gut. And I won’t follow it up by lying to her.
Before he could second-guess himself or his hellhound could browbeat him into silence, he said, “I have two powers. Most of us who were experimented by the wizard-scientists do. One belongs to our human self, and one to our beast. The knowing, the visions—that’s my human power. I told you I can’t control it very well. It turns on of its accord. My hellhound’s is… a different sort of information, and I have the same problem with it.”
“And it hurts too?” she asked. He nodded, but before he could say more, she burst out, “I hate those wizard-scientists for doing this to you! I hope they do attack us again, then I’ll get a chance to kick them a few times on your behalf!”
It was the last thing he’d expected her to say. Her anger on his behalf touched him so deeply, he felt on the verge of tears. But he pushed past them, determined to be honest. “The physical pain isn’t the bad part—well, it’s the less bad part. My hellhound’s power is to see the worst moment of a person’s life. And not only see it, but experience it as if it was happening to me. Their grief or loneliness or guilt or pain…”
Her eyes were wide, her mouth open. She was horrified. Of course.
Forcing the words out past the cold and rising tide of misery within him, he said, “If you don’t want to get in a car with me, I can call a cab. Or I could have one of my teammates pick you up—it wouldn’t have to be Merlin, and he wouldn’t have to know about it. I could talk to Tirzah, she’s good at secrets—”
Natalie threw her arms around him. It was so unexpected that he froze, unsure what was going on, until she squeezed him tight and he realized that she was hugging him. He’d told her something terrible, something that ought to horrify her, and that was her response?
“Oh, Ransom.” Her voice was muffled; her face was pressed into his shoulder. “That must be so awful for you. To see all that pain—to feel all that pain—and not even be able to help, because it’s already over.”
Cautiously, barely able to believe his ears, he put his arms around her. They stood locked in an embrace, giving each other the strength that neither of them had alone. He bent his head, touching his forehead to hers; that was as close to a kiss as he dared. Her hair was feathery to the touch, and her lemony scent had a faint overtone of tomato.
“Aren’t you afraid?” he asked.
“Afraid of what?” She sounded genuinely puzzled, not putting on a show of bravado. “Oh! You mean that you’d see my worst moment? Have you seen it?”
“No.” It was strange, now that he thought of it. He’d dreaded having her worst moment forced on him, and he’d thought that would make his hellhound jump at the chance to do it. But even now that he was thinking of it, nothing happened. His beast was nothing more than a lurking presence in the back of his mind. “At least, not unless that doctor’s visit was it.”
“Who knows. I’ve had lots of bad moments. None of them are secrets, really. If you happen to see one of them, well…” She shrugged. He could feel the entire movement as it rubbed her body against his.
He closed his eyes briefly, struggling to control his desire. A single kiss had almost stopped her heart. They could never do that again; never do more than hold each other, like they
were doing now. It felt like he was tearing his own body apart, but he forced himself to step away.
“I have to,” he said. “I’m sorry.”
There was both hurt and understanding in her gaze, now a smoky gray in the darkening light. “Yeah. I know.”
When they got in the car, he kept the top rolled up. It was getting cold. At the motel, he said, “I know you wanted separate rooms, but…”
“But that was before the best kiss I ever had,” she said.
“It was my best, too.”
They both sighed, in such perfect unison that Natalie gave a rueful chuckle.
“What a screwed-up world,” he said.
“Could be worse.” She ruffled his hair. The touch of her fingers made him gulp for air. “I’m so glad we met, and that could’ve never happened. Or we could not be able to touch at all. Imagine if I was Rogue from the X-Men, and I couldn’t touch you without stealing your power and knocking you unconscious.”
“True. And I love that you thought of Rogue.”
“I love that you know who she is. She’s the best.”
“So,” he said. “One room, two beds?”
“If you can stand it, I can stand it.”
He thought of the shimmering vial buried deep within his duffel bag, and set a mental reminder to himself to never completely unpack. “I can stand it. And I’m glad you’re with me, too.”
Inside the motel lobby, a bored clerk glanced at the pups and pointed to a sign saying that a maximum of two dogs or cats could stay in a room so long as they didn’t weigh 150 pounds combined.
“I think we’re good,” she said.
On their way out, Ransom said, “Imagine two cats weighing 150 pounds combined.”
“I don’t have to imagine it. I grew up with tigers.”
The motel room was distinctly no-frills, much like the one she had stayed at in Refuge City, with a pair of narrow beds close together in the small room. By what seemed to be mutual accord, neither of them brought up any of the serious topics they could have talked about. Instead, they unpacked the puppy beds and toys and food and set them out, and sat on their own beds and watched Heidi and Wally chase each other around, blinking in and out to evade or attack. It was impossible to watch and not have your heart lifted.