Stepping out into the icy twilight air, she turned in the direction of the corridor, finding the curse standing a foot or so from Jack, hands in his trouser pockets. He had been waiting for her, and his presence was both comforting and unsettling at the same time.
"Well?" Jack demanded, his tone back to its usual arrogance. The way they were situated, he couldn't see her behind him, which gave her a strange sense of control over the situation.
But the curse met her eyes, his gaze soft and indulgent for just a moment. It was as though he knew her inner turmoil and offered silent support.
Then he pointed casually to the stone wall behind Jack's shoulder and said, "Look." Without hesitation, Jack turned to look, and in that split second, the curse seized the opportunity, gnarling a brutal fist into Jack's hair and slamming his face into the stone.
