The second day of competition, December the thirteenth, dawns much the same as the first: Reese is pulled out of his pleasant dream by the shrieking alarm far too early. He groans and buries his face deeper in the pillows, wondering if he’s pissed God off and managed to get stuck in some sort of limbo, where he has to live the same day over and over again.
The scent of salt fills his nose, and he breathes deep, as though he can inhale the ocean. The sea breeze is brisk, gusting across the lonely expanse of the almost-deserted beach. The gulls wheel and call overhead, their cries swallowed by the crashing of the surf. The tide will come in shortly; he knows, watching the setting sun sink toward the horizon, transforming the world into a rainbow of warmth—gold and red and orange, all the heat of the day transformed into brilliant hues that color the world around him.
It was still raining when Sebby got back to the hotel. The onslaught hadn’t even slowed; in fact, it was probably raining harder than it had been when he’d left his father’s.
Sean was sitting at lunch with Murdoch and Q when his phone started ringing. He smiled tersely at his colleagues.
“Well, shit,” Danny said, and Matt nodded emphatically as they surveyed the scene of destruction.
Kat lifts her head slowly, meets the warm, blue gaze of one Reese Lockwood. He stares at her, shifts a little awkwardly, before finally looking away, toward the other end of the library.
It was raining when they crossed the tarmac to board the plane. The wind was bitter and blowing from the north and the rain seemed to get heavier by the minute.