Текст книги "Fire Fall"

Автор книги: Bethany Frenette

сообщить о нарушении

Текущая страница: 14 (всего у книги 16 страниц)

I stood frozen, staring. For the space of a second, I thought Gideon must have recognized Mr. Alvarez and chosen to help him. But the hope was fleeting. Gideon stalked forward, and the look in his eyes was anything but friendly.

Verrick had hated other Harrowers even more than he hated the Kin, Shane had told me. It was Verrick I saw now. Verrick I sensed. I felt the thrill of satisfaction that burned in his gaze, and the hard knot of hate that coiled inside him. He had Gideon’s hair and Gideon’s face, but the wide curve of his lips was more of a sneer than a smile. I searched for some sign I recognized, a trace of the boy I knew—hidden, waiting. It was Gideon who had sat hunched in my room, dripping rain. He must be there still, within the wrath that rippled off him.

I spoke his name, but his eyes were fixed on Mr. Alvarez, who had killed the other Harrower and now turned toward him.

“Don’t,” Tink shouted, but neither of them heeded her.

I couldn’t move. I could only watch in horror.

Gideon had reached Mr. Alvarez before I could blink—before I could remember that he was who we’d been searching for and I had to find some way of disconnecting him from the Circle. He caught Mr. Alvarez by the neck and whipped about, his fingers once again closing, tightening. Tink screamed. My stomach churned. But just when I thought it would be over—that I’d hear a snap and then see Mr. Alvarez’s head twist, his body slacken—he fought back. His left arm swung upward, Guardian lights bright at his fingertips. His hand gripped Gideon’s face. He broke free, falling backward, and rolled out of reach. Then he was on his feet again. He went on the offensive, striking out at Gideon.

They grappled for a moment. Mr. Alvarez attacked and Gideon evaded, and then the roles reversed. Mr. Alvarez retreated once more, ducking, rising, his left arm seeking Gideon’s throat.

Gideon caught his arm, and this time Mr. Alvarez couldn’t escape. With his other hand, Gideon grabbed Mr. Alvarez below the chin, raised him into the air, and flung him into the side of a building. Mr. Alvarez crashed against the wall and then slid to the ground on his side. He didn’t move. Gideon advanced.

The paralysis that had swept over me didn’t grip Tink. She flew forward, darting into the space between them and turning toward Gideon. She held her left arm before her, glowing softly, and though I could see her shaking—her entire body trembling—she screamed at him. “Gideon, stop!”

And abruptly he did.

There it was, I thought. That flicker. The slightest shifting within the cold hatred he carried. He looked at her. His smile faltered. His lips parted. Some word whispered out of him, too faint to hear. Then he turned and ran.

He was nearly out of sight by the time I released my breath. He disappeared down the other side of the alley, racing into the foggy gray darkness that swelled into the street beyond. It closed around him, thickening—and he was gone.

Leon had joined us. I felt his hand on my shoulder, and for an instant I tensed, until I saw him step beside me. We hurried toward where Mr. Alvarez lay on the ground, near the side of the building. He was so still I worried he was dead.

Tink was standing over him. “What are you doing?” she demanded. “Get up!” And then she dropped to her knees and shoved him, hard, until he rolled over onto his back.

“Tink, he’s hurt,” I said.

His eyes were open, though. And instead of grimacing in pain, he was giving Tink a distinctly annoyed look. But he didn’t try to rise to his feet. He just rolled back over away from her.

“He’s giving up!” she shouted, still shoving. This time he resisted, curling onto his side. “After all his talk about duty and protecting the Kin, he just quits.”

He covered his face with one arm. “I told you—”

“To make a choice. Well, I did. And I’m here. I’m scared out of my mind, but I’m here, and if I can manage that, then what the hell are you doing?”

“He just got thrown into a wall,” I pointed out. “He needs a hospital, not a pep talk. Or whatever this is.”

But Tink was too worked up to listen to me. She was pushing him again. “We’ve got Harrowers loose all over the city. The Guardians are completely scattered, and you’re supposed to be leading them. So get—up!”

Somehow, all of that screaming and shoving actually worked. Mr. Alvarez shifted onto his stomach, pushed himself upward with his hands, and then, groping at the wall, slowly stood. There was a streak of blood trailing from his hair down the side of his face, his lip was split, and one cheek was already starting to bruise. Leon helped him toward a stack of boxes that was piled against the side of the building.

“Am I at least allowed to sit down?” he said sourly, not waiting for an answer. He took long breaths, resting his head in his hands.

“Do you know what’s going on?” I asked Tink, who had come to stand beside me. She was injured, too—there were cuts on her left arm, still oozing slightly, and more across her right shoulder, though the blood there had dried. Her face was pale, her eyes huge.

“Besides Armageddon?” she replied, clutching her elbows.

“It started some time this morning,” Mr. Alvarez said. His breath wheezed out. “I think.”

“Have you seen my mom?”

He shook his head. “I just arrived. I was heading to Harlow Tower when I ran across the Guardians here.”

“So were we,” Leon said.

“She was with the rest of us there,” Tink answered.

Leon flicked a glance in my direction, then asked, “You guys had a plan?”

“Sort of.” Tink turned to me. “Your mom was working with the leaders of the Kin at other Circles to figure out some way of stopping this. I’m not sure if they came up with anything, and then when the Harrowers started showing up, the Guardians left to fight them. But we’re spread out all over now. I’m not sure where your mom went. She could still be there.”

I bit my lip. “She didn’t say they’d found a solution?”

“Not to me. What are you going to do? Why are you here? I thought your mom sent you away from the Circle.”

“We have to go after Gideon,” I said, and felt Leon’s hand grip mine.

Tink’s wide eyes got even wider. “I’m not sure that’s such a good idea.”

“Me neither,” I said. I stared down the other end of the alley, where Gideon had vanished. “But it’s the only idea we’ve got.”

“How are you going to find him?” Tink asked.

“I know where he’ll go,” I said, realizing the moment I spoke it that I did. I could feel it, in that quiet almost-sense that connected me to the Circle. As I looked down the alley, I could see the faintest rim of light shining in the gloom, a thread trailing off into the distance. He was going to Harlow Tower. To the center of the Circle, where it had all begun. The place where Verrick had died, and Gideon had been born.

While Tink and Mr. Alvarez returned to the other Guardians to regroup and begin a sweep of the streets, Leon and I walked back to his motorcycle. My feet were still bare, one heel bleeding from where a sharp piece of gravel had dug into it, but I ignored the pain and the cold of the asphalt—at least until Leon located my sandals. Tink chased after us, grabbing my elbow before I could hop onto the motorcycle.

“I’d better see you again,” she said, giving me a wobbly smile.

I did my best to smile back. “Ditto.”

“If you find Gideon…” She paused. It took her a moment to form the words. I could see her struggle with them, the way she swallowed thickly, then lifted one trembling hand and held it over her mouth; I could see the shine of tears gathering in her eyes. She turned away from me, letting her arms fall back to her sides. “Just tell him thanks,” she whispered.

The roads we passed through were deserted, though as we drove I thought I saw the blur of Harrowers creeping out along some of the streets: the slide of silver on gray, and here and there the hint of crimson. There were more dead birds on the pavement, the brown of sparrows and the blue-black of crows turning white with frost. The Beneath was steadily tightening its grip on the city. On Nicollet Mall, the trees were gnarled and twisted, almost skeletal. Their branches bent toward the earth, twigs curling like claws, and their leaves were mottled with decay. Debris was scattered everywhere. Rust crept across parked cars, and up and down several buildings, bricks were bleached the color of bone. The hiss of the Beneath followed us down every road.

There was more fighting the block before Harlow Tower. Leon brought us to a sudden halt, parking up on the sidewalk close to one of the buildings. He got off the motorcycle, then stood for a moment looking out into the street ahead of us. In the sky above, the gold glittering letters of HARLOW TOWER dimmed into gray. The stench of rot was much stronger here, suffocating almost, and everywhere shadows lay like pools of blood that spread, oozing, underfoot. I moved up beside Leon, and my heart missed a beat when I recognized my mother among the Guardians.

They were clustered in the middle of the road, where the stoplights had gone dark, the poles tilting as though they’d begun to melt, and all the bus stops and benches were flaking into ash. There were only five or six Guardians, and the demons seemed innumerable—there had to be dozens at least. The demons came sliding out from between buildings and along the red shadows. Some appeared to climb straight up from the earth itself, their talons clicking against the street as they ran.

Shots rang out, and I realized that a figure crouched near the entrance to a building wasn’t a Guardian or a Harrower, but Mickey. He had his sidearm out, keeping distance between himself and the center of combat as he carefully chose his shots. He didn’t fire at the Harrowers fighting the Guardians, just those on the outskirts, creeping in. Guns had limited effectiveness against demons—but the Guardians needed all the help they could get. Mickey managed to slow down the advance of one or two, and a Guardian I recognized as Camille hurried to finish the demons off.

Close to her, Elspeth and Iris were fighting side by side, taking on a demon together. Soft lights flared at Elspeth’s fingertips, her short hair flying out around her as she moved. Iris appeared to be amplifying, holding back just slightly and then rushing in for the kill. The demon fell before them, and they turned to face each other. The other Guardians were giving them a wide berth, which told me they might have accepted Iris’s presence for the time being, but only as a matter of necessity.

Mom was fighting Shane.

Even with her powers diminished, she was a force unparalleled. Other Harrowers raced toward her, but she killed them quickly, barely even slowing her advance. A quick catch of the throat, a flick of the wrist, and they slid downward, gurgling as they dissolved into the Beneath. Her target was Shane, who had begun to shed his human disguise. Scales showed through the skin of his neck and face, and the familiar green of his eyes was now nothing but blank white.

Both of Mom’s arms flashed toward him, but he jerked free, rasping with laughter. He retreated, but not for long. While the Guardians were steadily weakening, the Beneath was growing stronger. Mom struck at Shane again and again. The third time, he didn’t evade her blow. He grabbed her arm instead, then lifted her into the air and hurled her at Mickey, sending them both crashing to the ground.

As Mom and Mickey began to untangle themselves, Shane turned and stalked toward Iris and Elspeth.

“I see you, interloper,” he said, his voice low and icy. “Traveler between two worlds. Traitor to both. Wanted by neither.”

Iris froze, facing him. I saw her hands clench. Elspeth was still busy fighting the Harrower beside them, but Iris stood staring as Shane inched closer.

“I hear your blood, turncoat. It calls to be loosed from your veins. It craves that sweet singing release. Let it free from the foulness of your flesh. Let both worlds drink.”

He lifted his hand. A sizzle of light pooled within his fingers, a swell of energy brightening against his palm. It illuminated the silver in his skin, the ripple of scales along his arms, though he hadn’t yet turned his hands to talons. He bared his teeth and then sent the blast of energy hurtling toward Iris.

Elspeth screamed, turning. She thrust the Harrower in her grip away and leaped in front of her sister.

But in the same instant, Iris caught Elspeth’s arms, swiveling, twisting about to shield her. The blast caught Iris, throwing both her and Elspeth onto the road.

Mom was on her feet again, running. Shane had more energy building in his hand, but she threw herself toward him, knocking him to the ground. He rolled away, jumped up, and withdrew a few steps. Mom followed, pushing him back. Whatever she’d lost in power, she was making up for in fury. Her hair had come loose from its bun, haloing about her as she struck. Her fingers latched onto his throat. He staggered, sliding out of her grip, but she caught him again. The second time he broke free, he retreated farther, snarling something between his teeth before disappearing from sight. This time, Mom didn’t chase him. She’d seen me. She raced back down the street toward us.

The remaining Harrowers had vanished. I searched, but no more bodies snaked across the street toward us. No more hisses sounded. No more talons clicked. Nearby, Camille was sitting in the road, a dazed expression on her face; another Guardian rested beside her.

Elspeth was clutching her sister and weeping.

“I’m not dead,” Iris said, trying to push her away. “I’m fine. Get off me.”

She was injured, though, and badly. The back of her shirt had burned away, and blood was oozing thickly from one shoulder, where the skin was painfully scorched. Some of her hair had been singed away, so that it was wispy and uneven. The side of her neck had a jagged cut, climbing up toward her jaw.

“You can’t die,” Elspeth kept sobbing.

Iris was looking at me, her gold eyes narrowed and accusing. “That’s up to Audrey.”

I felt a snarl build in my throat, and struggled to contain it. “You’re the reason all of this is happening in the first place.”

“I told you how to end it,” Iris snapped. “He’s a Harrower, Audrey. You wouldn’t be murdering an innocent.”

“Not like you,” I said.

She didn’t hesitate. “Not like me.”

Mom reached us then, tugging me into her arms for a moment without speaking. She smoothed my hair with one hand, and I heard her breath hitch. When she released me, she stepped back, looking me over critically for a moment, and then said, “I didn’t want you here.”

“Don’t take it personally,” Mickey said from nearby. There was a scrape on his forehead and the side of his face. “She didn’t want me here, either.”

“And look how well that turned out,” Mom said, as she reached out and touched his arm.

He grunted, rubbing his forehead. “I’d rather be out here than hiding away.”

“Did you learn anything from the other Circles?” Leon asked Mom.

Her expression turned grave. “We lost all communication hours ago.”

“The radios have all been coughing out static,” Mickey added.

“So we’re on our own,” I said. I turned, gazing out at the encroaching gloom. This was Valerie’s vision called forth, I thought. I had seen it before, in the last flickering images that sped through Susannah’s mind as she died. The city gone gray, the glare of bloodred stars.

Iris had managed to sit up with Elspeth’s help. “What else do you need to convince you?”

“That’s why we’re here,” I said. “To find Gideon.”

“To kill him,” she answered.

I stared down the block toward Harlow Tower, rising high and dark. “To do what I have to.”

There was a sudden shift in the darkness. I spun and felt Leon’s hands catch my shoulders, steadying me. In the thick red shadows that spread across the buildings, a Harrower was stealing forward. It wasn’t alone. A second shuffled up behind it, and a third. I turned again. On the other side of the street, more demons gathered. I could see Shane among them, still half-human, his blond hair ruddy with blood.

These were not the Harrowers from before. I sensed the difference in them even as they began to step forth together, slowly, forming a loose net around us. They didn’t move to attack with the same heedless anger of the demons we’d fought before. An eerie hum built between them. And then they spoke, rasping, hissing, the same whispering voice I heard in the empty around us.

“The Circle will open,” they said. “Your Kin will end.”

Dread coiled tight inside me.

The Beneath was no longer controlling just Shane. It was controlling all of them.

Mom swore, lifting both her arms before her, poised and ready for battle. Camille and the other Guardian had risen to their feet. Elspeth remained on the ground, hugging Iris to her with one arm, the other shining with pale Guardian lights.

Iris looked at me. “Audrey. Go.”

I didn’t hesitate.

Leon and I ran for Harlow Tower.

We came to a stop outside the building, where the revolving doors were locked, and the thick gray sky made the glass opaque, too dark to see in. I thought of the last time I’d stood there. Six months ago, with the snow swirling in the air around me, and Iris waiting atop, a knife in her hands, Gideon at her feet. If I closed my eyes, I could see them both—the way Iris’s eyes had gone white, the way Gideon had whimpered when he’d woken, telling me he wanted to go home. We’d taken him away, but part of him had remained behind. Part of him had always been here.

You set something in motion that night on Harlow Tower, I heard Susannah say.

“How do we get in?” Leon asked.

I shook my head. “We don’t. He’s not in there. He’ll be in the alley outside.”

Where he’d fallen seventeen years ago.

Where his body had come to rest after he and my mother sailed through the air, wrapped in the Circle’s light. Where that light had burned into him, remaking him, shaping him into something else. Someone else. Where my friend had been born.

“You have to stay here,” I told Leon.

His gaze went wary. He was going to argue, and I couldn’t let him.

Gideon would kill Leon. He would’ve killed Mr. Alvarez if Tink hadn’t intervened. But he hadn’t killed her. And he wouldn’t kill me.

The only question was whether or not I’d be able to kill him.

“This isn’t about you protecting me right now,” I told Leon. “All of us, every one of us, is going to die if we don’t end this. Maybe this is the whole reason you’ve been protecting me. Maybe this was it all along. What I have to do right now.” I looked up into his eyes, watching the struggle within him. I grabbed his hand and held it in mine. The cool air had chilled his skin, but I could feel the warmth of his heartbeat. He lifted his free hand and touched my face.

“But I have to do it by myself,” I said. Slowly, I released his hand, let his fingers slide from mine. “I’m the only one who can.”

I hurried away before he could stop me.

Around me, the city had gone silent. The hush of the Beneath had swallowed the sirens; all I heard was the sound of my footsteps falling hard on the concrete, and that constant, quiet threat that whispered into my ears. This was what it was like, I thought. This was what Harrowers carried with them, the corruption they couldn’t escape. That relentless voice and the reek of death. The grief that had taken root inside of them the moment the Old Race crossed over. The deep, hungering darkness. The hate. I rounded the corner, kept running, trying to outdistance it.

I found Gideon huddled in the alley. He sat against the wall of the building, his arms wrapped around his knees. His head was bowed. All around him, the light of the Circle was pulsing out, glowing hotter with every step I took toward him. It waved in the air in warm colors, soft and rippling, like Gideon was surrounded by the northern lights.

With every step I felt the hum of the connection between us. The Astral Circle, bound to us both.

He looked up as I approached, staring at me with Verrick’s eyes. “I was waiting for you,” he said. “It said you would come to open the Circle.”

It. The Beneath. Though there were no Harrowers near us, I felt its presence. It was everywhere, lurking, pressing near. I felt its stare in the gray, swollen sky above us. Each star was an eye, keeping close, careful watch. That cold, baleful red, up in the infinite dark beyond.

I maintained my distance, a few steps from Gideon. There was dirt on his face, and a streak of blood that slashed down the front of his shirt. Mr. Alvarez’s, maybe. Gideon didn’t appear to be injured. The wound on his knuckles had scabbed over. He looked very young sitting there, his hair tangled, his knees clutched against him. There was a rent in his jeans. His shoelaces were untied.

“Is that why you’re here?” he asked, looking up at me. “To open the Circle?”

“To cut your connection to it,” I said. I swallowed, feeling other words there in my chest. I had come to kill him. I didn’t say it, but it seemed that Gideon could hear it anyway, in the thickness of my voice, maybe, or in the way I held back. I closed my eyes briefly. “I saw what happened. You couldn’t hurt Tink.”

“I chose not to.”

“Because you remember her. Because you know she’s your friend. She wanted—she asked me to thank you.”

“Don’t lie. You didn’t come here out of friendship.”

I didn’t speak. I wanted to step forward and reach out toward him and tell him he was wrong. I wanted to remind him of memories we’d built between us: of baseball games and barbecues; of winter mornings; of long, sleepy hours spent together. And I wanted to shout at him. I wanted to grab him and scream that he was Gideon, not Verrick, that he had a family, worried and waiting. But he was right. I hadn’t come out of friendship. I had come out of need. I had come because this was the moment that every moment before had been leading toward, the completion of the pattern that had been woven seventeen years ago.

“I came because we’re bound,” I said. “We always have been. We can figure this out, okay? We just need to think. Just—help me think.”

“Cut my connection to the Circle,” he scoffed. His speech seemed to shift with every word, every syllable. Now he was Verrick; now Gideon; now both. “That’s what Iris told you? It’s not a connection, Audrey. The Circle is part of me. It made me what I am. It’s what allows my lungs to inflate and my heart to pump. Its power. The light that I took from it. You’ll have to unmake me if you want the light back. You’ll have to rip it right out.”

And that would kill him. Just as Iris had said.

“There has to be some other way,” I said.

He jumped to his feet, and with quick strides stood before me, grabbing my shoulders and letting his hands turn to talons. I felt them slice into me, breaking the skin.

“Perhaps I’ll just kill you,” he said.

“You won’t. You’re Gideon,” I replied. “And Gideon would never hurt me.”

“That’s what you want me to be. It’s not what I am.”

“That’s what you wanted to be,” I countered. “You wanted to be Kin.”

“You’re wasting time. If you want the light, you’ll have to take it. Do what you came here for.” His grip tightened painfully.

I told myself not to hesitate. I told myself that the city was dying all around us, that every second the Beneath was taking hold. Even now the people I loved were fighting, maybe dying.

But I loved Gideon, too. And love changed the rules.

I thought of Brooke Oliver, hunched in her house, afraid. Dying so that the Kin would be safe. I don’t know that the right choice was made, I heard Esther say. I do know that it was the same choice we have made throughout history, and that it is a choice we’re sure to make again.

I looked at Verrick. His eyes met mine. He didn’t release his hold on me. I could feel my blood oozing out, steaming in the icy air. But though the anger that wrapped him was still present, below it I sensed something else—a weariness, deeper than his rage, more potent than his hate.

He was going to let me kill him.

He wanted me to kill him.

He wanted to heal the corruption inside him, Shane had told me once, to leave the Beneath behind forever.…

My lips parted.

“You wanted to leave the Beneath behind,” I said.

He sneered at me. “Wouldn’t you?”

That was it, I thought.

It wasn’t his connection to the Circle that needed to be severed. It was his connection to the Beneath.

He needed to not be a Harrower.

He needed to be human. To be Kin, like he’d wanted all along.

The Old Race had done it. They’d crossed over. They’d taken human form, and then they’d left the rest of their power behind in the Circles. The Circles they’d built from their blood.

And the Circle itself had altered Verrick. It had made him into Gideon.

It just hadn’t finished the process.

I had done it before—I had released the Circle’s power. And now I would do the opposite. I would take it. But I wouldn’t keep it.

If the Circle’s power was what Gideon needed in order to be human, I would give it to him. All of it.

The Circle would die, but once the connection was severed, the Beneath would sleep again. And Gideon would live.

Slowly, I detached his hands from my arms, holding them in my own—those talons dripping with my blood, digging into my skin. His eyes met mine. I saw into them, into the ancient dark that moved behind them, into the wrath and corruption that ate at him. I saw the faces of the Guardians he’d killed, their bodies broken, their final sighs escaping. But I saw Gideon as well, a flicker, a hint of warmth within the chill.

I felt the connection to the Circle, a quiet burn. I reached out with instinct, with intuition, just as I had that night six months ago.

“What are you doing?” Gideon gasped.

“Just trust me,” I said.

Light gathered around us, rippling, rising, so bright I couldn’t see anything beyond Gideon’s face. With everything in me, I willed the light into him. With Knowing, with the speeding of my pulse and the fear that clenched my heart, with each breath I exhaled, with the last hope I held.

The light burned away the air between us. It seared my skin. Panic kicked into me, telling me that I was on fire, that those were real flames crawling up my flesh; the Circle was melting away my bones, and in another moment I’d be nothing but ash, blown away and lost in the swirling gray sky above us. But the moment passed, and then the light was shining and clean, and it didn’t burn at all, it was just light. It guttered, fading, as it wrapped about Gideon.

I felt my connection to the Circle break.

Verrick’s wrath began to recede. His rage abated. That malice that wormed within him was charred into cinders, nothing more than dust. The grief was soothed, the hunger fed.

He fell to his knees, and I fell with him.

His hands were still in mine. Warm, human hands now, not claws. When he looked up at me, his brown eyes were rich and clear. Gideon’s eyes. I couldn’t see the Beneath. The connection was severed. His corruption was healed.

He smiled at me.

I smiled back.

Knowing surged into me, quick impressions, memories we channeled between us: the day we’d met, the sunny classroom and the sound of footsteps, the opening door. Camping trips we’d taken, out in the country where the sky was thick with stars. I saw other images that lingered in his mind—the soar of a baseball overhead, the bright glossy sheen of Brooke’s hair. He was Gideon again, I thought. Just Gideon. My Gideon.

And then his hands released their grip.

He slumped to the ground.

I grabbed his arms, his shoulders, trying to lift him back up. The light was pooling around us once more, but this time it seemed to be spreading outward, away. Pulsing out in ribbons and waves. Leaving him.

He was reversing it. Sending the light of the Circle back.

But the light was what had made him, I thought frantically.

He would die without it.

“No!” Desperately, I reached out once more. But I was no longer connected to the Circle. I’d given the last of its light to him. I couldn’t call it back. I clutched at Gideon, wrapping my arms around him, holding him against me, trying to stop him. “You can’t,” I said.

“You gave the Circle to me,” he said, still smiling weakly. “It’s mine to give back.”

The light flooded away from him, out across the streets, the buildings, pushing back the gray of the sky and the harsh red glare of the stars.

“But I’m saving you,” I said.

His lips curved up in that crooked grin of his. “Maybe we’ll meet again.”

The last of the light fell away. I turned my face toward the horizon, where I could see it ripple beneath the blue, the faint glimmer of light of the Circle, throwing back the Beneath. The decay had vanished. There were no whispers, no low rasping hiss. The air was warm, untouched by rot. But Gideon was no longer there to breathe it. I rocked backward, closing my eyes.

That was how they found me a few minutes later, my arms still wrapped around Gideon, clutching his body against me.