In the middle of the night, she'd woken up with a memory of her grandmother's voice ringing in her ears. "When it happens," the older woman had said, holding on to Jenna's hand with surprising strength for someone with one foot in the grave, "and it will, don't stay in the cities. She can find you in the city. Too many eyes and whispering tongues that no one can see. Run to the woods, far away from everything and everyone you ever knew. Run, girl, run as far and as fast as you can.
A bedraggled woman stood on his doorstep in the pouring rain, and his first impulse was to slam the door in her face. But she had clearly come as far as she could; her pale face was twisted in pain, and she shivered convulsively beneath a denim jacket that was as soaking wet as the rest of her. Long black strands of hair hung down in twisted ribbons like seaweed in the vanishing daylight, reminding him of a sea creature he'd once dated briefly in his more adventurous youth.
I swore I wasn't going to rescue any more damsels in distress," Day muttered. To his surprise, Barbara gave him a lopsided grin, banging on the side of the trailer to make it produce a door. "What makes you think she isn't rescuing you?" she asked, and stomped inside without a backward look.
A rising tide of desire threatened to swamp her like a tidal wave, washing away fear and doubt and leaving behind it the knowledge that in her topsy turvy life, she was certain of only one thing: she wanted this man, right now, and she'd deal with the consequences later.... "I want to make love to you," he said, his voice low and thrumming through her veins as if it were a music only she could hear.
Day gazed out at the sky, where a shooting star was winging across the heavens. "I stepped in between Jenna and the hex. I wasn't even thinking; it was just instinctive." "Of course it was." Barbara gazed at him fondly. "You may think you have changed, but your gallantry was never just for show; it's part of who you are.
They sat in silence for a moment. Then Jenna said," The son of a god, huh? That explains a lot." He raised an eyebrow. "Oh?" Jenna smirked at him, a mischievous look in her sparkling blue eyes. "You know, the whole super strong, ridiculously gorgeous thing. But obviously you've been told that a lot over the years. I don't expect it means much anymore." A voice far in the back of head said something faint about bad ideas, but he hit it with a large mental stick until it sputtered and shut up. "It depends on who says it," he answered, and bent his head down and kissed her.
At Jenna's questioning glance, he explained, "As the White Rider, I used to wear all white. Few people here have ever seen me dressed in any other way. I wouldn't wonder that most of them could be standing right in front of me, wearing these clothes, and not even look twice." Jenna grinned at him. "Not if they're female, they won't. I doubt there's a woman alive who would not look twice at you, babe." He snorted, absurdly pleased by the flattery, although he tried not to show it. "We'll just have to try and stay away from women, then, won't we?