The following scene takes place during his "interrogation." For those familiar with the witch trials of early America and elsewhere, these didn't so much involve questioning as a physical examination of the accused an every aspect of their lives. In Jacob's case, this all goes terribly wrong since he has an unfortunate attraction to the person investigating him:
His eyes traveled up to my own. Against my will, I felt that familiar sinking come over me. I wanted to dive into his eyes like a pond in summer time.
He was so close, mere inches between us. I could see every lash, the beginning of stubble on his chin and the place he had cut himself shaving just below his jaw. And that loose curl, clinging to the curve of his face.
For a moment, he did not say or do anything, mere stared. And I began to wonder, did he see me, too? Did I haunt his dreams the way he haunted mine? Was there a chance -- slight as it may be -- that he could feel the way I did?
Sarah's words came back to me. "You must draw him in."
I was already damned, guilty as charged. One way or another, they would hang me.
So I reached up, brushing the curl aside so that I could cup his face in my hand, and before he could pull away, I captured his lips with the force of a hawk on its prey.
At first he stiffened, and I thought he would pull away. I pushed him back two steps until we ran into the desk, trapping him. With one hand he braced himself on the desk for balance, the other pressed against my chest.
I pulled back slightly, just enough to meet his gaze. Fear for what I'd done made my heart race, but I wasn't about to die without making at least part of my dream come true.
Remember, October 24 for the full story!