Maggie felt the brush of his warm lips and then cold air as he jerked back. "No," he said. "No." She could see the clash of fear and anger in his eyes, and she could see it suddenly resolve itself as the pain grew unbearable. He shuddered once, and then all the turmoil vanished, as if it were being swept aside by a giant hand. It left only icy determination in its wake. "That's not going to help," Maggie said. "I don't even understand why you want to be this way, but you can't just squash everything down-" "Listen," he said in a clipped, taut voice. "You said that in your dream I told you to go away. Well, I'm telling you the same thing now. Go away and don't ever come back. I never want to see your face again." "Oh, fine." Maggie was trembling herself with frustration. She'd had it; she'd finally reached the limit of her patience with him. There was so much bitterness in his face, so much pain, but it was clear he wasn't going to let anyone help. "I mean it. And you don't know how much of a concession it is.
