Dekker, Ted - The Circle 4 by Dekker Ted

Author:Dekker, Ted [Dekker, Ted]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction - Religious, Imaginary wars and battles, Large type books, Christian, Christian - Fantasy, General, Suspense, Fantasy, Hunter, American Science Fiction And Fantasy, Dreams, Reality, Christian fiction, Fiction, Thomas (Fictitious character), Fantasy fiction, Christian - Suspense
ISBN: 9781410423399
Publisher: Gale
Published: 2010-09-15T07:00:00+00:00

24

“TEN YEARS,” Kara said. “So that would make you how old over there?”

“The same as I am here,” Thomas said, pacing beside the towering shelves of bound books in Monique’s library. “Forty-nine. Amazing.” He rubbed his face with his hand, a habit he’d developed—to check if his skin was turning Horde, Chelise used to joke.

“But it’s been thirty-six years since you left us. You were twenty-four at the time. You should be sixty, like me. Instead, you’re under fifty and you hardly look forty.”

“All I know is that I was twenty-four—or was it twenty-five?—when I first woke in the Black Forest, and nearly twenty-six years have passed since then.” He scanned the ceiling. “Utterly amazing.”

They’d left the laboratory, taken an elevator to the ground level, and retreated to Monique’s library, issuing strict instructions to be left alone.

“A lot’s changed since you left us,” Monique said.

“It’s not the change. It’s being back in civilization. Elyon knows how much I love the desert, but this . . . this is fantastic.”

“So you’re married? In the desert?”

Thomas looked into her bright eyes, recalling what they’d shared. Was that only a dream? The relationship between the two worlds still confused him. What was less confusing was the fact that he was physically here, now. There was only one Thomas Hunter, and he stood in a city called Bangkok, looking at an older woman who, at sixty, was stunning.

“Married? Yes. Happily. No, happily is a silly word for it. My wife is the jewel of the desert, the light that guides my heart through the darkness when I grow tired of waiting for the end.”

Monique grinned. “Wow. Sounds like I missed out.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. You’re married?”

“Once.”

“Janae’s father?”

“Yes. It was a torrid affair that lasted a year. His name was Philippe, and he raged into my life like a tornado when I was feeling sorry for my loss. I knew it was bad, but he gave me what I longed for and then disappeared. He knew about you, naturally. You were still quite famous then.”

Philippe. Thomas wondered what connection he had to the other world. They were all connected, it seemed. The only real question was, in what way? Albino, Horde, Eramite half-breed, Shataiki? Roush?

Kara walked up to him with a roll of gauze and some tape she’d grabbed on the way out of the lab. She took his hand and rubbed his skin, studying the cut on his palm. Then she wrapped his hand in the bandage.

Her hair smelled like soap. Perfume. Flowers. He still wore the Horde robe, which carried the faint odor of scabbing disease—to them he likely smelled like a skunk.

“I still can’t believe you’re here,” Kara said, tapping the bandage. She lifted misty eyes. “Really here.”

He slid his hand behind her neck, pulled her close and kissed her forehead. “Trust me, to know that all of this exists . . . it certifies me sane. So many times I believed I might be losing my mind.”

“You’re here to stay?”

Her question took him off guard.

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