“Evan saw a man across the kitchen, butt leaning against the counter, muscular arms folded over his broad chest. His blond hair was cut very short, and his eyes were bright blue sparks. Evan’s gaze locked with Paul’s, and a sudden sense of vertigo swam through his head. The conversation in the other room, the back and forth between John and Alden, the startling brilliance of Bill’s teeth -- all of that faded away as Paul stared back at him. Evan found himself inside a strange bubble that blocked all outside stimuli. He had never experienced a connection this intense before, especially with an initial look, and even though it terrified him in a thrillingly sexual way, he didn’t dare pull his gaze away from Paul’s for fear of breaking the timeless moment between them.”

“Pearce leaned in over the table to lock eyes with Mark. “Look, Mr. Beecher, you and I are going to be spending a lot of time together for the next week, got it? And when you think about it, I’m the only thing standing between you and a bullet in your head, so you might want to start being a little nicer and a lot more cooperative, okay?”

“It took a long moment, but Gerard finally raised his head and looked Jon in the eye. “It meant that I have not been honest with you, Jon Calder, and if you are to understand the danger you are in now, I must tell you everything, no matter if you believe me or not.”

“Charlie squinted in the glare of the sun. “Are you a member of the crew?” He stepped forward and shaded his eyes.“In a manner of speaking,” the man replied. “I’m Rock Harding.”“Oh, nice to meet you.”

“An intense cold swept over them all. Harry felt his own breath catch in his chest. The cold went deeper than his skin. It was inside his chest, it was inside his very heart. . . .Harry’s eyes rolled up into his head. He couldn’t see. He was drowning in cold. There was a rushing in his ears as though of water. He was being dragged downward, the roaring growing louder . . .And then, from far away, he heard screaming, terrible, terrified, pleading screams. He wanted to help whoever it was, he tried to move his arms, but couldn’t . . . a thick white fog was swirling around him, inside him —”

“What’s your name, Farm Boy?”“Charlie Heggensford, ma’am.” He stuck out his hand and she smiled as she shook it.”

“As I turned away, I saw Holmes, with his back against a rock and his arms folded, gazing down at the rush of the waters. It was the last that I was ever destined to see of him in this world.- Watson.”