As Lie the Dead

Chapter Seventeen

Later …

I was on fire. Every inch of my body ached and burned—back and shoulders that lay on something soft, face caressed by external force, legs surrounded by support. Nothing was left untouched. Even my insides hurt, as though taken out, smashed to a pulp, and then tossed back in.

The pain meant I wasn’t dead. It was just too much to handle, so I drifted. Up and down on waves of agony and itching, highs and lows that carried me back and forth from sleeping to near-waking. I thought I heard voices, smelled smells, felt touches on my skin. I tried to talk a few times and probably only grunted. My tongue was swollen, throat dry and sore.

No, it felt better to sleep.

And then the overwhelming need to vomit forced me to wakefulness. My entire upper body twisted sideways, and I dry-heaved into something soft. Cottony. A blanket. Something warm touched my face and shoulder. Spoke indecipherable words in a gentle voice.

Bolts of lightning shot down my legs. I stiffened, tried not to move as heaves dissolved into quiet sobs. Hot tears scorched my eyes; I squeezed them shut against the uncontrollable weakness. Weight shifted the soft blanket … no, mattress.

I shot up in a tangle of arms, blankets, shouts, and pain. My legs hollered at the sudden movement, furious and blinding. Someone grabbed my flailing wrists. I forced my eyelids to peel apart, even as the voice became more clear.

“Evy, it’s me. Calm down, please.”

A blurry shape was outlined against the light of a pale wall. I blinked several times. The voice, soothing and soft, placed the details my addled brain couldn’t quite focus on its own. My racing heart calmed, only to speed up again. Not from fear this time.

“You’re safe,” Wyatt said.

I stared, not quite believing it, even when my eyes completely focused. He was sitting on the bed next to me, hands clamped around my wrists, black eyes wide with concern. A flurry of emotions blasted me—joy, surprise, confusion, and most of all, stark relief.

He loosened his hold on my wrists and I fell against his chest, flinging my arms around his waist. I inhaled his scent, felt his warmth on my cheek. He was really there, arms around me, chin resting on the top of my head. I held tight with what little strength I had, communicating with touch what I couldn’t seem to manage with words. Then through the relief came the pain again, white-hot and itchy irritation. I groaned, pushed away, and fell back against a fluffy pillow.

“Take it easy, Evy. Your legs are still healing.”

I scrunched my eyes shut and sucked in several deep breaths. My stomach felt twisted inside out, but less likely to try and jump out of my mouth. I was aware of other things, as well—the gentle swish of water through nearby pipes, the faint odor of fabric softener in the clean sheets, the lack of anything resembling a burning factory or VW bus.

“Where?” I croaked.

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

I cracked one eyelid. He brushed the back of his knuckles across my cheek. I automatically leaned into the touch, amazed he was even there. A little pale, but otherwise healthy for someone who’d recently had surgery. A lot had happened, and I wanted details.

“We’re in Michael Jenner’s house,” Wyatt replied.

My other eye opened, and I stared. “Seriously?”

“Yeah. I guess your meeting made an impression. The Assembly is considering what you told him, and we should know their decision tonight.”

Good, that still gave us time to decide how to handle the mass-meet at Park Place. I glanced briefly around the small bedroom—definitely a guest room, with its plain painted walls, simple curtains, and abstract watercolor in lieu of personal photos. Even the furniture was the generic sort you buy to fill a room, not add style. The bed was against the wall, the door angled away and propped half open.

He was still watching me when my attention returned, as though terrified he’d blink and I’d disappear. I had no intention of teleporting again for a long time. Not until my body stopped throbbing. My wounds would heal, as they always had—fast, because of my Gift. A Gift not everyone shared.

“Not that I’m complaining,” I said, “but what the hell are you doing out of the hospital?”

Wyatt smiled, fingers still gently stroking my cheek. It was distracting in a nice way, but his anger simmered just below the surface. “About an hour after I spoke to you the last time, I was moved to another room and was livid that no one would tell me where you were. Then I got a call from Kismet, telling me you were in the factory when it caught fire and that it went up so fast she never saw you come out.” Something passed across his face as he recalled the memory of that moment.

I reached up and threaded my fingers through his, then drew his hand down to hold it against my chest. I almost asked if he knew she’d been lying, or at least creatively excluding the truth. Instead, I squeezed his hand, encouraging him to continue.

“I got a little upset,” he said with a chagrined smile. “No one would tell me what was going on, so I signed myself out. Phineas found me outside the hospital. He said he’d gone back to the factory hoping to catch up with you when you got your information from the gremlins. He had you wrapped in blankets in the back of a van. You were so … I didn’t think you were alive, at first. We ended up here. Jenner called a doctor he trusted.”

A doctor? I looked past him, down the length of my blanket-covered legs. I wiggled my toes and found them working. Nerve endings twitched and smarted. “Were they broken?” I asked.

“Both of them, in several places, plus your left kneecap. The doctor had a time resetting those bones so they’d heal straight. And you were having trouble breathing all night from all the smoke and chemicals you inhaled.”

“All night? How long have I been out?”

His lips pressed together. “It’s Sunday, about noon.”

Holy shit, I’d been unconscious for more than a day! My deadline for saving Rufus was looming closer and closer, and Aurora could have given birth by now. Who knew what was going down with Call and his cronies?

“Fuck,” I said. “Park Place last night—”

“Nothing happened.”

I blinked, confused.

“Kismet had people watching it. No one went into or out of that building last night. Whatever was supposed to happen was probably moved.”

Because Phin had tipped them off. Told Black Hat we knew about Park Place. Shit, shit, and dammit all. If I hadn’t been so utterly exhausted, I probably would have hit the wall in frustration. Our last lead was gone. Unless I managed to track down the recently relocated gremlins. The problem was the Black River docks covered more than a mile of waterfront, and I didn’t have the time or resources to search it all.

He bent at the waist and pressed his forehead to mine, our noses nearly touching. Inky black eyes gazed into mine, his coffee-scented breath warm on my face. I couldn’t imagine mine smelled that great, but he didn’t wrinkle his nose or pull away. I drew strength from his nearness, glad to have him by my side again. We made a better team than solitary players.

“So much happened the day before yesterday,” I said quietly. “I don’t know where to start.”

“Phin filled in some of the details. He’s got a hell of a story to tell, too.”

“He’s still here?”

“Downstairs with Aurora, I think.”

My head jerked in surprise and, forgetting how close we were, we banged our noses together. Wincing, Wyatt sat up, and I tried to follow, heedless of my smarting legs. “Aurora and Joseph are here?” I asked.

“Just this morning. Apparently, the stress of being forced from your apartment sent Aurora into labor. The were-cats took her to a private clinic and informed the Assembly, who then told Jenner.”

“Who told Phin.” I gazed at him in wonder and dread. “She had her baby.”

“A healthy baby girl, and she’s already the size of a one-year-old.”

Joy over the safe delivery was demolished by an impending sense of doom. “But my bargain with Phin was good only until the baby was born. What happens to Rufus now?”

“Nothing yet.” Phin’s voice surprised me, and even Wyatt jumped. Phin stood just inside the room, his body half hidden by the door. He had a healing burn on his left cheek and a serious crease to his forehead. “Welcome back.”

I swallowed, tormented by enough conflicting emotions to choke an empath. He had stabbed me and left me for dead. Allowed Belle’s cronies to attack and drive me out of my apartment. He’d also given me top secret information about his people. Oh yeah, and he saved my life. Again. I wanted to hug him tight and punch him until he cried.

“You have every right to be cross with me,” Phin said when I didn’t speak.

“Cross?” I repeated. “Cross doesn’t even begin to cover it. You stabbed me in the gut and tossed me into a fucking Dumpster.”

“He … what?” Wyatt asked. He started to stand. I grabbed his arm and kept him still as a familiar flush crept up his neck.

Phin ignored Wyatt, his blue eyes never blinking. “I won’t ask your forgiveness, Evy, but when I tell you what I learned, I believe you’ll agree the risk was worth the outcome.”

“You’d better have one hell of a story.” I settled back against the pillow, still clutching Wyatt’s hand. He remained seated, a silent sentinel. Phin stepped into the room but kept his distance.

“You recall the man in the black hat?” Phin asked.

I nodded.

“His name is Snow, and he’s a low-level member of the Kitsune Clan, who are—”

“Wait, I know this one!” I’d heard the word “Kitsune” before, referencing an animal. Now what was …? “Foxes. They’re were-foxes, right?”

“Correct. Snow has been actively recruiting for someone who wants to create a … well, for lack of a better term, an anti-Triad organization. A sort of nonhuman enforcement group to go after the Triads who punish indiscriminately.”

Wyatt snorted. “They’ll end up going after all of us.”

Phin pinned him with a hard stare. “Your people have a long history of punishing whomever they wish, as long as those punished are weaker than you. The Triads are out of control, and my people are beginning to fight back.”

I thought of what he’d said in the Green Apple diner, about wanting to join the Triads. Policing his own kind. I could see how such a group might appeal to Phin, even if its existence scared the shit out of me. “Who’s he been recruiting?”

“Mostly Therians, but there are some vampires and a few half-breeds. I never thought I’d see the day when the two stood in the same room and didn’t try to kill each other.”

Ditto that. “How many?”

“Around sixty, so far.”

Twice our numbers, although our training gave us an advantage in combat. “I don’t guess the man he works for is named Leonard Call?”

Phin’s head twitched sideways. “How did you hear that name?”

“A little birdie told me.” I briefly outlined my conversation with Isleen, including her woman on the inside. “If he’s been building this force for a month, we’re damned lucky we finally got wind of it. With our own numbers so low, a sneak attack would have devastated us.”

“An attack of any sort still might,” Wyatt said. “Even if every Triad in the city had shown up at Olsmill the other night, we wouldn’t have won without help from the Bloods. We always kept the Dregs in line through fear and intimidation. That’s obviously not working anymore.”

“Obviously,” Phin drawled.

I pondered Isleen’s other comment about a larger threat looming, one ten years in the making. I’d thought to ask Rufus about it, to get some skinny on the earliest days of the Triads. “Who decided that?” I asked before I could censor myself.

“Decided what?” Wyatt asked.

No stopping now. “Fear and intimidation, Wyatt. Isleen got me thinking…. She said things really started to hit the fan around the time the Triads were first organized. You were there.”

He bristled like a threatened dog and stalked across the room before I could stop him. “She said this was all our fault?”

“No, that’s not what I said.” I struggled to sit up again, the movements less painful now. “What changed ten years ago that made the Triads necessary when they hadn’t existed before?”

He glared at me, the flush in his neck rising to his cheeks. “Your mother was murdered by vampires eleven years ago, Evy, and you’re asking me why?”

A chill spread through my chest. Her body had been found drained of blood, two weeks dead, so the possibility of her being killed by vampires had always existed. It just hadn’t been verified and never would be since her body had been cremated. No one had voiced it so bluntly since my days in Boot Camp, when the information was used to goad me into action. It had always worked.

I threw back the blanket covering me, noting—but not caring—that I was wearing only my bra and panties. Both legs were wrapped tightly in gauze bandages and medical tape, but I swung them off the bed anyway.

Angry fingers of pain tore up and down my legs, and I barked out a terse “Fuck you, Truman,” as I tried to stand up. “My mother was a fucking heroin addict who slept around and got herself killed.” My weak legs wobbled. My left knee screeched as weight was added, and I flopped back onto the bed, panting. “Why ten years ago?”

His face was a thundercloud. “Because that’s when the shit started hitting the fan. Halfies seemed to come out of nowhere, and they were attacking anyone they could. The goblins began oozing out of the sewers and old bootleggers’ tunnels and attacking in the open. They all got bolder, which attracted the wrong sort.”

“Wrong sort of what?”

“Of freelance bounty hunters, mostly. Dregs are drawn to this valley, mostly through the power of First Break”—which we knew courtesy of our brief visit to Amalie’s hidden home—“but vampires travel the world and sometimes leave Halfies in their wake. Those early hunters had no code or organization. They did what they wanted to make their kill, and consequences be damned.”

The fire blazing in his eyes spoke volumes for the things he’d witnessed those nameless hunters doing. Isleen had verified that vampires left the city for long periods of time but always returned to the source of energy that fed them. Home to the Break.

I was chilly sitting there in my underwear. I drew the blanket up and around my shoulders, still puzzling out his story. “So which straw broke the camel’s back? Who organized?” I thought I knew the answer but wanted to hear him say it.

“The Fey Council,” he replied. “The last straw happened downtown, ten and a half years ago. Five Halfies went into a Greek restaurant about thirty minutes before closing. The owner, his wife, their daughter, and four customers were there. The owner and two of the male patrons were bled right away. Two vampire hunters tracked them down, but not before the Halfies … entertained themselves with some of the women.”

I felt sick.

Wyatt grimaced. “The hunters decided they couldn’t risk the survivors spreading rumors of vampires existing. That it was better to keep it a secret; that they’d be better off dead than living with the trauma. So they killed everyone who was still alive, turned on the gas main, and burned down the evidence.”

My head spun, and I clutched the edges of the blanket, finding it very hard to breathe. “They murdered innocents,” I whispered, trembling.

“The restaurant owners had two teenage sons who were left orphans. Everyone said it was a tragic accident.”

I dropped my head into my hands, unable to fathom such an action. Slaughtering the Halfies, sure, in the most painful manner possible. But not the murder of four innocent women simply to keep a secret. What sort of person did that? A hand touched the top of my head. I looked up. Wyatt had crouched in front of me, his entire face alive with emotion—fury, regret, grief.

“Sorry you asked?”

I shook my head. “Just surprised.”

“It was a different time, Evy. We didn’t know much about the Dregs, just lots of rumors. Without the Fey Council, we’d have been lost. They found us, trained us, taught us. It was almost three years before the Triads, as we know them today, truly formed.”

“You and Rufus were there from the beginning?”

“Pretty much. We didn’t start this battle, Evy. We just reacted to it. We had to do something to protect ourselves from them.”

“So something else triggered this.” I blew through my teeth, frustrated. “Vampires start infecting humans, and those Halfies go out and multiply their numbers. That gets the goblins to sit up and notice, so they start crawling out of the sewers and tunnels, getting bolder in their attacks, too. That tells the other Dregs it’s okay to act up, and suddenly we’re overrun with them.”

“Point of fact,” Phin said. I’d forgotten he was there, and the harsh lines of his face screamed out his anger. “Therians have always been among your people. We didn’t crawl out of anything, and most of us live our lives as peacefully as we can.”

“Peaceful?” Wyatt repeated, standing and pivoting to face him. “That’s what you call recruiting others to kill us off? Peaceful?”

“I have no desire to see your people killed off. I like humans very much.” His blue eyes flickered briefly to me. “However, as recent events showcase, your judgment and policing skills leave a lot to be desired.”

“We didn’t—”

“I don’t care about who gave what orders anymore.” Phin’s voice was furious enough to make even me flinch, but his outward appearance remained still. Almost preternaturally calm. “My greatest concern is that it does not happen again, not to any other Clan or species—human and nonhuman alike.”

He took several steps forward. Wyatt tensed, but Phin ignored him. His fierce gaze bore into mine.

Phin continued. “Yes, I wanted vengeance for the loss of my Clan—wanted it so badly I could taste human blood on my tongue. Coming to you for help in protecting Joseph and Aurora was like castrating myself, admitting to weakness that, as their Clan Elder, I couldn’t entertain. The morning we met? I almost landed on that car while you were still in it, and I would have enjoyed it. Humans were evil, they had slaughtered my people, and I no longer wanted anything to do with any of you.”

I squirmed under his glare and the weight of his words. Seeing the real Phineas el Chimal for the first time, in all his temperamental glory. Ruled by his emotions. Admitting to his grief and rage. Damn, but that had to feel good.

“What stopped you from killing us?” I asked.

“Something Danika told me one day, when I asked her why she was so friendly with a human,” he said. “She said, ‘Evy has a good heart. She’s just had it broken a lot.’”

My eyes stung. “I think the goodness of my heart is still open for debate.”

“No.” Phin shook his head, sharp snaps side to side. “No, it’s not. You were willing to turn your back on your friends and coworkers in order to do what you thought was right. Few make the honorable choice when it means losing everything.”

I flashed to Kismet, so torn in her decision to trust me or silence me. She hadn’t been able to make the tough call and go on faith. She was a soldier who thrived on following orders. I had challenged everything she believed in, threatened the status quo. I didn’t begrudge her trying to kill me.

Didn’t mean I’d turn my back on her again, though.

“So what does this mean for us now?” I asked. “Do you still want Rufus handed over to you?” Phin’s hesitation answered my question. “I guess I didn’t uphold my end of the deal, huh? Deliver the brass before Aurora gave birth.”

“I technically gave you until tomorrow,” he said. “Help me protect the other bi-shifting Clans, and then his debt is forgiven.”

“How can I protect them if I don’t know who they are?”

“I believe you’ll find out tonight. Jenner is very persuasive, and you’ve gotten him on your side.”

“How?”

“You stood up to him, and he’s not used to that. It gained his respect. You also did what you promised—your very best to ensure Aurora’s safe delivery.”

“About that,” I said, suddenly curious. “What happened to Belle?”

Phin’s expression darkened. “She received a warning from her Pride Alpha about taking things that do not belong to her.”

“A warning?” From the look on his face, I didn’t want elaboration. Fine. “Okay, so what now? Did Call’s group meet last night somewhere else?”

“If they did, I wasn’t told about it.”

“Could the day have been wrong? Could he be having the meet tonight, even though he knows the Triads are watching the place?”

“I don’t know. I’m sorry. If he does, and your people show up spoiling for a fight, the Triads will be outnumbered three to one. They’ll be decimated.”

“They aren’t dumb enough to walk into that kind of trap.” Nor would I let them, if I thought otherwise. “They may have tried to kill me twice in one week, but the Triads are all that stands between the city and the Dregs.”

My final remarks produced twin squawks from the men in the room. I held my hand up to silence Wyatt and addressed Phin first. “I use the word ‘Dreg’ to refer not to all nonhumans, but to the assholes who’ve decided to wipe us off the map, whatever species they be.”

That seemed to placate Phin. Wyatt, on the other hand, was staring down at me with a queer look on his face. Something between anger and amazement. “Evy, what the hell happened at the factory?” he asked. “What did Gina do?”

“Her job,” I replied, and, oddly, believed it. “I became a threat to the Triads—this time, on purpose—so she followed protocol.”

“Did she start the fire?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“It does—”

“No, Wyatt, it doesn’t.” I tugged his arm until he crouched down to eye level, then grabbed his chin and held tight. “As much as I’d like to kick her ass six ways from Sunday for my legs, in the grand scheme of things, it doesn’t fucking matter. And in this, my vote is the only one that counts.”

Tension thrummed off his body. Though unhappy with the decision, he seemed to relent. “Fine. It doesn’t matter.”

I let go of his chin, almost believing him. He could hold a grudge longer than me, and he wouldn’t be completely satisfied until he got details about the fire. I’d tell him eventually, but it wouldn’t help us today. There was simply too much to do, and as always, my personal bullshit had to wait.

“About Park Place?” Phin asked, elegantly redirecting the conversation.

Wyatt shifted so he sat on the bed next to me. He reached around and tugged the sheet up, over my bare legs. I pulled the blanket tighter around my shoulders, amused by his attempt to protect my modesty.

“We need to know more about Leonard Call,” I said, backpedaling to before our latest conversational tangent. “He’s supposedly human, which doesn’t make a lot of sense. Could he have a specific bone to pick with the Triads?”

“It’s hard to know,” Wyatt said. “I don’t recognize the name, and it’s difficult to imagine a human building a Dreg army to fight against other humans.”

My point exactly. “Do you think Kismet would tell you if she found out anything?”

“After all the names I called her the last time we spoke? Sure,” he deadpanned.

“It’s worth a try.”

Phin produced a cell phone and held it out to Wyatt. Wyatt glared at it, then took the phone and flipped it open.

“Put it on speaker,” I said as he dialed.

He did. It rang half a dozen times before the line connected.

“Kismet.”

“It’s Truman,” Wyatt said.

A pregnant pause preceded a soft, “Hey.”

“What do you know about a man named Leonard Call?”

I stifled a groan. Way to be subtle, Wyatt.

“Um, not much,” she replied, his question seeming to catch her off guard. Indecipherable background noise painted the call with static. “He’s got no address, no credit, not even a Social Security number. There aren’t any Calls in the entire state, and the only Leonard Call we found is a four-year-old in Arizona.” She paused. “Where did you hear that name?”

“A little bird told me. You?”

“From a friend.” I swear I heard regret in her voice. “Wyatt, come back in so we can protect you.”

He snorted. “Why? Am I in danger?”

“It feels like we’re all in danger right now. Our informants are hearing some pretty nasty rumors about goblin movements.”

“What sort of goblin movements?”

“I’ll tell you when you come in. They can’t have who they really want to punish, so they may come after you.”

Who they really want was a diplomatic way of saying, “Since I killed Evy, they can’t kill her for killing one of their Queens.” But part of me was still curious what the goblins were up to.

“We can’t afford to lose you, Wyatt,” she said.

“Touching, but no thanks.”

I gave Wyatt a poke to get his attention, then mouthed the words “Park Place.” He nodded. “What’s going on tonight, Gina?”

“Nothing so far. We’ve been watching the location all night and day, but beyond the occasional homeless person, there’s been no activity in any of the four buildings on that corner. Baylor took his Hunters and a rookie, and they’ve been patrolling the entire waterfront, keeping an eye on things.”

Baylor had a rookie on his team? I chewed on my lower lip. He must have lost a Hunter at Olsmill. I’d been so preoccupied, I still hadn’t bothered to find out the names of the other four Hunters who had died that night.

“Besides a storage-unit auction this afternoon,” Kismet was saying, “and some sort of charity benefit tonight, nothing’s happening within six blocks. Perimeter sensors are in place, so if anyone larger than a sparrow goes in those other buildings, we’ll know about it.”

“Don’t underestimate their numbers or their cleverness.”

“I haven’t underestimated a Dreg in a long time. You taught me better than that.” No, she only underestimates humans. “Look, come in—”

“If I learn something useful, I’ll let you know. Otherwise, don’t expect me.”

“Wyatt—”

He hung up. I bit back a retort about rudeness. Knowing his temper, I should have been amazed he’d made it through the entire phone call without letting loose more foul names. He hadn’t turned his back completely, though. He never would. He’d been there for the birth of the Triads; he had trained Kismet and countless others. This was beyond personal for both of us.

“Well, that was somewhat useless,” Phin said.

Wyatt grunted. “Depends on your point of view.”

Someone knocked on the door, and we all turned to look. A timid, curly-haired head peeked around the edge of the half-open door, and a wide blue eye crinkled as she smiled. “You’re awake,” Aurora said.

I grinned. Seeing her with my own eyes lifted a bit of worry from my chest. She stepped fully into view, cheeks flushed and arms full of a squirming baby girl. Wrapped in a blue blanket, she waved small fists in the air, as if demanding attention. Eyes as round and blue as her mother’s gazed around the room, and she squealed when she saw Phin.

“She’s beautiful,” I said. “She was born yesterday?”

Aurora laughed in her songbird voice. “Our children grow quickly.”

“What’s her name?”

“I wished to honor you, Evy, but tradition requires the same first letter as the mother. So I chose Ava.”

Few things in my life could render me utterly speechless, but Aurora had with her generosity and my namesake. What the hell had I done to deserve that sort of honor?

“It’s a beautiful name,” I said finally.

“Would you like to hold her?”

“I’d probably drop her.”

“You won’t.”

Despite my protests, Aurora deposited the baby in my arms. The blanket slipped from my shoulders and puddled around my waist. I was beyond self-conscious, sitting like that with a baby in my lap. Her heart beat so fast and precious, her life so fragile, smelling of that fresh baby smell. Surrounded by people who truly cared about her welfare. And mine. Safe.

Wyatt traced his finger down Ava’s arm. She clutched his finger in her small hand and drew it into her mouth to chew on. He laughed.

“Evangeline, may I ask a favor of you?” Aurora said. Her tone shifted from giddy to serious, and the change reflected in her face. Round eyes were hooded, the color more intense.

“Of course,” I said.

“Be Ava’s Aluli.”

Phin’s head snapped toward her, which clued me in that the unfamiliar word carried some weight.

“What is that?” I asked.

“The closest word you have is ‘godmother,’” Aurora replied. My heart fluttered. “Phineas is already her Agida. If anything happens to me, I want you both to protect my daughter.”

“Nothing’s going to happen to you.”

“You can’t know that. I may live to see Ava grow into a beautiful woman with children of her own, but I can’t know for sure. Please say yes.”

I had no experience with children. I avoided them in public places and had never possessed the desire to raise my own. I’d never changed a diaper, babysat, or even held a baby until now. I had every reason to say no, that she’d chosen the wrong woman for the job.

“Yes,” I said. “I’m honored.”

“You are a warrior, Evangeline. You honor me with your acceptance. I have no fear for her now.”

Wyatt nudged me gently with his shoulder. I looked at him, curious. His mouth was quirked in an amused half smile, and one eyebrow was arched dramatically. I shot him a withering look, and he laughed out loud. I started to say something, but a strange odor killed the words. He sniffed. I sniffed. What the hell …?

“I think she needs a diaper change,” Wyatt said.

I groaned. Aurora smiled, took her back with a practiced ease, and left. I wiggled my toes, testing the muscles up and down my legs, still wrapping my mind around the latest conversation. I was now the Therian equivalent of a godmother to Aurora’s daughter. Yikes. At least my legs felt stronger, more able to hold my weight. Being unconscious for twenty-four hours had probably atrophied the muscles.

“So just to summarize,” I said, “we have no more leads to follow and no inkling as to Call’s next move.”

Wyatt started nodding, but Phin said, “Not exactly.”

My head snapped up. “Care to elaborate?”

“Snow said he would introduce me to Call tonight. I’m supposed to meet him at four o’clock.”

“And when the hell were you going to tell us?”

“I almost wasn’t.” Before I could snarl a protest, he continued. “I knew if I did, you’d want to go with me, and I’d have to remind you that Snow thinks you’re my sexually aggressive girlfriend, as well as dead, and I wanted to save the inevitable argument about wearing a wire or something.”

He’d nailed me on that one.

Wyatt’s hand drifted to my blanket-covered thigh—a light and protective touch. “Does Snow thinking you’re dead have anything to do with him stabbing you?”

“Yes,” I replied, covering his hand with mine. Partly for the comfort of his warmth and partly to make sure he didn’t act on the anger that flashed across his face. To Phin, I said, “So you meet Snow alone, and then what?”

“I hope he takes me to Call. I’ll get what answers I can before anything goes down, then pass them on to you. We go from there.”

“I hate that plan.”

“Why? Because you can’t play?”

“Yes, and because you’re going in there alone and with no way for us to back you up.”

Phin smiled patiently. “That’s sweet.”

I frowned. “I’m serious, Phin.”

“You know I can take care of myself.”

“Against half a dozen boxers, yeah. What if sixty-odd Dregs decide they don’t trust you and want to turn you into osprey fillets?”

“Won’t happen.”

“You’re damned sure of your acting abilities.”

He laughed and crossed his arms over his chest. “Actually, I’m more sure of my position within the Assembly. Call knows who I am, and no matter how many of his recruits are Therian, he won’t tempt the ire of the entire Assembly by killing me. Maiming, perhaps even some form of torture, but not death. Whatever his goal, this man wants support, not enemies.”

“Unless they’re Triads,” I said with a derisive snort.

“Yes.”

“We can follow you at a distance.”

“They’ll know, Evy. Whether they see you, hear you, or smell you, they’ll know someone’s watching.”

I wasn’t going to win the argument, and I hated losing. Phin was meeting Snow that afternoon no matter what I said. We couldn’t bug him, and we couldn’t follow him. I was out of options. “Okay, fine. Just promise you’ll be careful. I’m not sure of the specifics of this Aluli thing, but something tells me part of it is not letting the Agida die.”

Phin nodded, smiling again, but there was no mirth in his eyes. Just a hard determination. “I’ll be as careful as I can, I promise. Now if we’re done arguing in circles, I’ll go check on lunch.”

“Thank God. I’m starving.” My stomach grumbled at the mention of food. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d eaten. “Tell me it’s hamburgers or spaghetti or something—”

“You’re getting broth for now,” Wyatt said. “You haven’t eaten in a while, and we don’t want to shock your system.”

I groaned. “You’re cruel.”

“Only because I care.” The hand on my thigh went around my waist, and I leaned against his chest. Heard his thrumming heart, so strong in my ear. Inhaled his scent—clean and masculine, but missing that hint of cinnamon. Must be a soap or aftershave he’d not had access to since leaving the hospital.

Phin had left at some point, closing the door almost completely.

I nuzzled a little closer, calmed by Wyatt’s embrace. So much had happened, and so quickly, it felt like a month since that night in First Break. What we’d thought was our last night together. I’d wanted so badly to be with him then, and couldn’t. I’d wanted to say I loved him the way he loved me, and couldn’t. He’d said he understood, which amazed me, since I hadn’t understood. I still didn’t understand.

His fingers combed through my long hair. “You should rest up while you can,” he said, breath tickling the top of my head.

“I’ve been sleeping for a day, Wyatt. I’m not tired anymore.”

He laughed. The sound rumbled through his chest and into mine. “Okay, then consider that my thinly disguised plea for a short nap. Not all of us heal like you.”

I pulled away so quickly he jumped. “Am I hurting you?” I felt like a fool, finally noticing how pale he still was.

“No, you didn’t hurt me.” He reached out and brushed a lock of hair off my cheek. “But ibuprofen helps only so much, and my back aches like a son of a bitch.”

I scooted around him, toward the wall side of the twin bed, dragging the blanket with me. My legs barely protested, the only real pain coming from my knee. I lay down on my left side and opened the blanket up to Wyatt.

He accepted the invitation without a word, stretching out next to me. I poked him gently until he rolled over to his left side, and I snuggled up against him. I felt the bandage beneath his shirt, the beat of his heart through his back. It was a complete reversal from the last time we’d “slept together.”

I draped one arm across his waist, and he twined his fingers with mine. I lay awake for a while, listening to him breathe, wondering if this was all we’d ever have. Quiet moments of recovery, scattered among skirmishes and double-crossings and the threat of impending war. One hour of peace every couple of hellish days.

My body had craved his touch since the moment of our first contact six days ago. This new body that I was still trying to understand, full of sensations and memories I had to reconcile with my own. It made my attraction to Wyatt as exciting as it was terrifying. I wanted to love him, but I didn’t know how.

And I still couldn’t convince myself it was worth it. He had died that night at Olsmill, and it had shattered me. What if, the next time, death stuck?

Wyatt grunted softly, and I loosened my grip, unaware I’d held on so tight. “What is it?” he whispered, voice raspy with sleep.

“Nothing.” I kissed the back of his neck. “You rest.”

“Hard to if you keep doing that.”

I smiled and kissed the same spot, just below his short hair. “Doing what?” I asked, and planted another.

He squirmed, his breathing a bit erratic. “I mean it. And the fact that you’re practically naked over there isn’t helping.”

I ceased teasing. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

No, it’s not. But thanks for trying.

He drew my hand up and kissed the knuckles. I settled my head back against the pillow, holding him. Glad to have him for a while.

And for a while, it was enough.