The rib cage still rose and still fell, audible accents on the exhales, like a man recovering from a six-miler. And from its nostrils the huffing formed perfect, measured clouds against the sunset, like the sweet fog in the fortunate fields, kissed by the same heaven.
The beast struggled not. So calm was the moment that Carter was tempted to touch this beautiful face, to ease its transition to The Next World. But it was not his to comfort and he sighed, his unworthiness. He looked back at the car, blocked Julian’s view from the sheer majesty of this half creature, then pulled the trigger.
Neither spoke the whole way home, but he rode with his pistol hand on Julian’s back, telling her without words that she would always be loved. Of the two of them, it’s likely that it was Carter who was closer to tears.
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