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Back Any Way the Wind Blows Save as PDF
Chapters (100)
  1. Title Page
  2. Copyright Notice
  3. Dedication
  4. 1
  5. 2
  6. 3
  7. 4
  8. 5
  9. 6
  10. 7
  11. 8
  12. 9
  13. 10
  14. 11
  15. 12
  16. 13
  17. 14
  18. 15
  19. 16
  20. 17
  21. 18
  22. 19
  23. 20
  24. 21
  25. 22
  26. 23
  27. 24
  28. 25
  29. 26
  30. 27
  31. 28
  32. 29
  33. 30
  34. 31
  35. 32
  36. 33
  37. 34
  38. 35
  39. 36
  40. 37
  41. 38
  42. 39
  43. 40
  44. 41
  45. 42
  46. 43
  47. 44
  48. 45
  49. 46
  50. 47
  51. 48
  52. 49
  53. 50
  54. 51
  55. 52
  56. 53
  57. 54
  58. 55
  59. 56
  60. 57
  61. 58
  62. 59
  63. 60
  64. 61
  65. 62
  66. 63
  67. 64
  68. 65
  69. 66
  70. 67
  71. 68
  72. 69
  73. 70
  74. 71
  75. 72
  76. 73
  77. 74
  78. 75
  79. 76
  80. 77
  81. 78
  82. 79
  83. 80
  84. 81
  85. 82
  86. 83
  87. 84
  88. 85
  89. 86
  90. 87
  91. 88
  92. 89
  93. 90
  94. 91
  95. EPILOGUE
  96. AGATHA
  97. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  98. Also by Rainbow Rowell
  99. ABOUT THE AUTHOR
  100. Newsletter Sign-up

I close my eyes and drop my head onto his shoulder. The wall behind me is cold and damp. Simon is warm. He’s pushing his nose into my collar and biting my throat.

“I can’t believe I had you in my room every night,” he says, “and I didn’t take advantage of it.”

“You could have had me in your room every night for the last year.”

He groans into my collar. “I’m such a twat.”

I lift my head up and get my free hand around his jaw. I can see his eyes, his pupils wide as saucers. Can he see me? “Kiss me in the Catacombs, Snow. Unhallow the ground.”

“I’ll unhallow your ground,” he says, kissing me.

I don’t think he can see me—his mouth lands halfway onto my chin. I’m laughing, making it worse. “You’re absurd,” I say.

“Look. I already said I’m a twat.”

I hold his jaw in place and kiss him squarely.

Simon’s lips are thin. His mouth is wide. We kiss with our teeth.

It’s everything I ever wanted.

He’s better than I hoped.

Even though he’s more fucked up than I could have imagined …

I don’t want him to lose control down here. I don’t want to have to sit in the dirt to comfort him, with all of my ancestors watching. When he starts pulling too hard on my shirt, I ease him back.

“Come on,” I say softly. “It isn’t much farther.”

50

SIMON

Baz lights a fire in his hand, so I can see.

“I hate it when you do that,” I say.

“What?”

“You’re going to start yourself on fire.” I saw how quickly the vampires went up, in the desert.

Baz scoffs. “I’m completely in control.”

“Seriously,” I say. “Use a torch. There are a thousand of them down here.” All along the walls.

“Fine.” He waves a hand, and the whole row of them lights up. He shakes the flame out of his hand.

“Look.” I stop walking. We’re standing right by the portrait I remembered. Of the blond girl. “It’s Lady Ruth’s daughter, isn’t it?”

“It certainly looks like her,” Baz agrees.

Someone has painted her right on the wall—and cast a spell to make it look like she’s crying. “Do you think she died here?”

“Lady Salisbury says she’s still alive.”

“Huh.”

We both stand there for a moment, watching her cry. Then Baz takes one of his roses and sets it on the ground below the portrait.

“I’ll wait here,” I say. It didn’t occur to me until just now that he might want to be alone with his mum. “You go on.”