by Clara Martin
“Be careful,” Eamon’s voice whispered. I looked up to see him there, floating, surrounded by gold fire once more, looking at me gravely. “Faolain isn’t playing the game much right now—his face creased in a wicked smile—“but remember, he’s not the only one in town. You’re safe from me, my dear. You are not safe from Western Wind.”
I gave a shallow nod. Eamon smiled sharply. “Excellent,” he said. “This’ll be an interesting game. You don’t play it well, but at least you’re quick on your feet.” He disappeared again.
I walked up to Nate and tried to smile. “Ready to go?” I asked.
Nate stared at me and exploded from his chair, almost knocking it over. “You’ve got to be kidding,” he burst out. “First something crazy goes down at your work—you still haven’t told me or Mom why you didn’t come home last night—and now I’m picking you up from a police station? What’s going on?”
I sighed. “I’ll explain in the car,” I promised, walking to the door. Before I opened it, I hesitated and turned around to look at Maria again. “Adaline,” I said, with some difficulty. “Did she survive?”
“Yes,” Maria said gently. “She did.” She paused. “She’s in a coma now, but she is expected to live.” Maria looked at me very levelly. “The poison used seems to have originated in the Northern Wild—but you didn’t hear that from me.”
I nodded, feeling tired. I had so many questions. Why had Eamon insisted on transferring the bond to himself? Surely there was another way to handle it. Who had shot the dart? Who had supplied the poison? Who had sent Will, the unknown operative, to my Muay Thai class? And—I froze, remembering the very beginning of my saga—who had sent the first Sending, warning me to run?
I smiled politely at Maria. “I have no idea what you just said,” I replied. Maria nodded back, smirking slightly.
“Let’s go,” Nate said, grabbing his keys. “You look like you’re about to fall over.” Together, we walked to the parking lot.
“So, what happened?” Nate asked, as we got into the car. I sighed. “Stupidity,” I said disgustedly. I should never have gone into the shelter without calling for backup first. Briefly, I wondered what I had been thinking, then sighed. I hadn’t been. I was a trained, former army lieutenant—I had no excuse.
I told Nate what had happened as we drove. He was mostly silent, every now and then interjecting a “what!” or a “wow.”
“Mom’s going to be pissed, isn’t she,” I said at the end of my recitation.
Nate glanced at me out of the corner of his eye. “Probably. You were pretty stupid.”
“Hey!”
“Well, you were,” he said. “What were you thinking, running into the shelter with no backup?” His eyes narrowed. “And you never did say why you didn’t come home last night.”
“Just a really bad migraine,” I lied. “I had to sleep at the NVRA because I didn’t want to drive.”
“I don’t mind picking you up.” Nate’s eyes were still narrowed suspiciously.
“I know, Nate,” I said heavily. “But I don’t like treating you as my personal chauffeur.” He looked at me, and I relented. “There was some operation-related drama going down,” I told him.
“What do you mean?”
I suppressed a sigh. I could tell Nate would be a good lawyer—he never let anything go. He was worse than a dog with a bone.
“Charles was captured,” I admitted, “along with his team.”
Nate’s eyes flew open. “What?” he asked, horrified.
“I don’t know where he is now,” I said, eyes clouding with tears.
“Oh, Eileen.” Nate gently touched my shoulder. “I’m so sorry.”
I nodded, covering my mouth with my hand. The burn tingled, and I flinched.
“What’s wrong?” Nate asked, worried.
“It’s ... it’s a burn,” I murmured, holding it out. It seemed to get pinker as I looked at it.
“It most definitely is!” Nate said, shocked. “Did that happen when you were in the car with the fae kidnapper?”
“Adaline,” I corrected absently. “And yes, it must have.”
He grabbed my hand and looked carefully at it. “Lady of the Lake, Eileen. I think you need to go to urgent care. This is a nasty burn.”
I took a longer look at it. It was deep, but the last thing I wanted to do was stay out. I wanted to curl up in my bed, in my pajamas, with a cup of hot tea.
“Later,” I said absently.
“No, now,” Nate said, twisting the steering wheel. “It’ll scar and you might lose function in the hand.”
I laughed. “Where did you learn that, biology class?”
“Forensic Magic,” he corrected me. We drove for about ten more minutes in silence. I was falling asleep when we pulled into urgent care.
“Go ahead,” he urged me. “Go in. I’ll just sit out here and read.” He retrieved a thick tome from the back of the car.
“An Analysis of Marbury v Madison?” I asked as I got out. “You must be really bored.” He grunted, already immersed in his text.
I walked into urgent care and up to patient registration. The medical assistant looked up. “Hi,” I said politely. “I need my hand looked at. And my leg.” I held my hand up for her inspection, then pointed at my leg.
She raised her eyebrows. “Nasty burn,” she observed. She pushed the magi-pad over to me. It sparked blue.
I sighed. “I can’t use magic,” I told her. She raised her eyebrows again but gestured for me to sit down. “Don’t worry,” she said, “I’ll fill it in for you.” A thin trail of fire extended from her finger. “Put your hand up to mine,” she instructed. I placed my palm against hers and smiled at the cool feeling. She transferred my palm to the pad, smiling in satisfaction.
“All done,” she said, pulling the pad back. “You’ll be called in the order you came in.” I nodded and headed into the waiting room. “Thank you,” I called over my shoulder. She waved her hand in acknowledgement.
I sat down and pulled out my phone with a sigh. I should text Anna and let her know what happened. I blinked when I saw I had four missed calls, all from—Charles? I hit “call back” and held the phone up to my ear. He answered on the first ring.
“Hey, babe,” he said breezily. I frowned in surprise. He’d never called me that before. “Where are you?”
“I’m ... at urgent care,” I said slowly. “Charles, how are you?”
“I’m good! I’m good.” He paused. “Can I see you?”
“Of course,” I said, still surprised. He hadn’t asked me what was wrong, which was very unlike him.
“Which urgent care are you at?”
“The one in Woodbridge,” I said, giving him the address. “See you soon?”
“Absolutely, babe.” He hung up the phone. I put mine away distractedly. Soon I would see Charles again. My heart filled with joy. That dream of him being out in the woods, peering through binoculars and surrounded by an orb of blue fire, was just that—a dream. I looked at my hand, frowning, and then dismissed it. Doubtless it had happened during the car chase.
Just then, the doors swung open and Charles walked in. He looked around the waiting room before spotting me and sauntering over. I watched him move, feeling a little on edge. He moved like a hunter. My spine twinged with energy. It felt like something wasn’t right.
Then Charles smiled at me, and all that was forgotten. “Hey, babe,” he greeted me, pulling me up and kissing me. I stiffened. Maybe it was everything I had been through that day, but it felt wrong. He felt me stiffen and immediately released me. “Babe,” he said, sounding hurt, “what’s wrong?”
I swallowed. “Nothing,” I murmured, sticking out my hand. “I’m just—I thought you were still in the boundary area, searching for your team!”
Charles stared at my hand for a moment, then reached out an
d gently gripped it. “Not to worry, babe,” he said, smiling at me gently. “I always come back.” I nodded slowly.
“So sit down,” he suggested. “Tell me about your day.” He slid into a seat and patted the seat next to him in invitation. I slid down as well, sighing in exhaustion.
“Oh, Charles,” I said. “I’m so exhausted.” I felt tears well up in my eyes.
“I know, babe,” he said comfortingly. He patted my shoulder. “Sounds like you had a long day, between Eamon and Faolain and then Adaline,” he murmured.
I stiffened, then forced myself to relax. He could’ve learned all that from Anna and Garrett, I told myself.
But then, Sheldon pointed out, you haven’t told Anna about Adaline yet, have you?
A memory surfaced: Garrett, lecturing me on proper protocol for entering the War Room. “Some of the fae can shape-shift. We had one shifter try to get into the War Room, but he was caught when he didn’t know the passcode.”
Some of the fae can shape-shift ...
I straightened slightly. “Charles,” I said casually, “When we get out of here, can we go back to where we had our first date? Luigi’s?”
“Absolutely, babe,” Charles said casually. “You know how much I love Italian.” He smiled at me. I smiled back, automatically.
“I’m just going to text my brother,” I told him, pulling out my cell phone. “I’ve been waiting awhile and he might want to leave. Now that you’re here, though, you can drive me.” I smiled at him. He nodded, seriously.
“Absolutely, babe.”
He watched my phone as I texted Nate. “Go ahead and leave. I’m good to go here.”
A few moments later, my phone buzzed. “Are you sure?”
“Absolutely. I’m as good as fire is red,” I texted. I swallowed, hoping he’d get the message, and lowered my phone to look innocently at not-Charles. Not-Charles smiled at me and stroked my face. “I’m so glad I’m back,” he whispered. “I missed you.” He leaned forward for a kiss, and I quickly turned my face away. The kiss caught me on the cheek instead. He frowned. I laughed, unsteadily.
“I’m sorry, Charles,” I told him. “I’m just really tired.” I yawned for dramatic effect. “Do you mind if I sleep on your shoulder?”
“Of course not, babe,” he murmured, patting my shoulder comfortingly. “Go ahead.”
“Thank you,” I said brightly, leaning against him. I closed my eyes, feigning sleep.
“In trouble again?” Eamon’s voice asked sarcastically. I cracked open my eyes to see him crouched down, his face barely an inch from mine. “You’re lucky I’m resourceful.”
I hissed through my teeth at him.
“Oh, you’re resourceful too,” Eamon conceded. “That little gambit with your brother was a good one. I take it that was code of some type? Red for enemy? Hopefully he gets it.” Eamon leaned back a little, looking at me speculatively. “Last time,” he murmured, “you managed to save yourself, without my help. You have no idea how badly that wounds my pride.” He smirked. “Now this—you’re just a magnet for trouble, aren’t you?” He tsked at me, then vanished.
Not-Charles touched my shoulder. “Hey babe,” he said. “They’re ready for you.” He paused. “Want me to come back with you?” The medical assistant was standing next to him, looking sympathetic.
“No, no,” I said, “Don’t worry about me. You just stay and rest. I know how tired you must be.” I smiled brightly at him.
“I really think I should come with you,” not-Charles said, starting to stand.
“No, no,” I said, pressing him down. “Please. I’d feel so guilty if I let you move.” I stood next to the medical assistant. “Ready!” I chirped. She nodded, looking carefully at my eyes. We moved toward the door to the inner area of the clinic in silence.
“Ma’am,” she said, “please sit here.” She pointed to a booth with a blood pressure cuff and a scale. She shot me a troubled look and got out the blood pressure cuff. When she leaned over to put it on my arm, she whispered to me.
“Ma’am, are you safe right now?”
“No,” I whispered back urgently. “I need to get out of here.”
She gave me a slight nod and finished taking my blood pressure. “I’ll go get the doctor,” she said. She gave me a significant look. I nodded, trembling slightly. She left, but I saw her lift the telephone and make a call at one of the stations.
Less than a minute later, she came in with the doctor. “Well, well, Ms. O’Donnell,” the doctor boomed jovially. “I’m Dr. Hatsuka. Let’s take a look at your leg and arm.” As he unwrapped my leg, he cast me a long look from under his lashes. “Security is en route,” he told me quietly.
“Thank you,” I mouthed, leaning back and closing my eyes. He examined my leg in silence and then turned to the medical assistant. “Go get me a burn pack,” he told her, “and a fresh bandage.” He turned back to me. “Should only be a few more moments.”
“Should it?”
I looked up to see not-Charles standing outside my booth, smiling easily. I froze in horror. Beside me, I saw the doctor freeze as well. “One of the other medical assistants let me back,” he explained casually. “I just wanted to be with you, babe.” He crossed his arms and leaned on the wall, smiling at me.
I started to shake. “Get out,” I hissed.
“What?” He straightened up, looking genuinely surprised.
“Get out!” I snapped. “You’re not Charles. Get out!”
Not-Charles turned to the doctor. “Please, doctor,” he said earnestly, “I’m her boyfriend. She’s schizophrenic, and I’m afraid she’s having a breakdown.”
The doctor studied him for a moment. “I’ll evaluate her,” he said after a moment, “but I’m afraid you’ll have to leave, sir. She doesn’t want you here, and she’s entitled to that.”
Not-Charles seemed to grow bigger. “What?” he asked, voice ugly.
“You heard me,” the doctor repeated, not budging. Behind not-Charles, I saw the medical assistant coming back, hands full of bandages and the burn pack. She saw not-Charles and halted in surprise. I caught her eye. Run, I mouthed. She dropped the bandages and backed up, eyes on not-Charles.
Fortunately, he didn’t seem to notice. His eyes were on the doctor. “No one says no to me.” He grabbed the doctor around the throat and lifted, growing even larger. I screamed and hurled myself at him, trying to get him to release the doctor. Not-Charles batted me back with a single hand. I threw my wrist up to protect my face and crashed into the wall. I felt my wrist break.
Now that was a mistake, I thought muzzily. I know how to fall. I edged my way up the wall, trying not to lose my balance. I felt dizzy.
Not-Charles dropped the doctor with a snarl. I rushed him again, trying to get the doctor away from him; not-Charles grabbed me, lips twisted in a vicious snarl. I gagged. His breath smelled like raw meat.
“I was promised meat,” he said in a deep growl, “for bringing you home.” He lifted me by the throat, just as he had the doctor. I thrashed, trying to scream. I heard a commotion but couldn’t see what it was, I was totally focused on not-Charles.
“Drop her!” A voice yelled. Was that Anna? Not-Charles looked over his shoulder and, with a sneer, released his hand. I fell to the ground, retching. Not-Charles put his hands up.
“I surrender,” he growled. “I invoke the Fae-Human Treaty of 1785—” he swayed, his hands going to his throat. I watched, dazed, as he fell to the ground, blood spurting from his neck.
“Jenny!” It was Anna’s voice again. “Why did you shoot him? We could’ve gotten valuable intel from him!”
“I thought he had something in his hand,” Jenny said stubbornly. “Don’t you see? He does!”
“So he does,” Garrett’s voice rumbled. “But we can check it out later. Right now, let’s take care of Eileen and the doctor.” I felt a pre
sence kneel at my side. “Clever, using that code to text your brother,” he told me, as he gently felt along my head. “He called us and told us you were in trouble.”
I gasped. “Dr. Hatsuka—the medical assistant—”
“The medical assistant is fine.” I felt his hands pause. “Dr. Hatsuka is dead,” he said softly. “I’m sorry, Eileen.”
I felt tears well up in my eyes. Behind him, I saw Eamon floating, regarding me carefully. He flickered out as sight as soon as I saw him.
“Who was he?” I gestured at the body of not-Charles.
“I don’t know,” Garrett said heavily. “Most of the shifters come from the Northern Wild. We usually don’t get them down here.” He paused for a moment and then carefully touched my forehead. “I can’t heal your wrist, or completely heal your concussion,” he told me, “but I can make them a bit better. Would that be all right?”
I nodded, squinting my eyes against the brightness of the fire in his hand. Without another word, Garrett placed his hand on my chest. I sighed in relief as I felt the pain ease.
“Charles?” I asked eagerly.
Garrett paused for a moment, then shook his head. “Still no word,” he said softly. He helped me sit up.
I rubbed my eyes and looked over at not-Charles’s body. In death, he seemed to have reverted to his original form. He was gorilla-shaped, with dark red streaks around his mouth—they looked crusted on, I noted in horror, like blood. I looked at Garrett.
“Is that—”
“Blood? Almost certainly.” Garrett leaned back on his heels and examined the body with a clinical eye. “Nasty creature.”
I shuddered. “Nate didn’t come back with you, did he?” I asked. Surely he wouldn’t be that foolish.
“He wanted to,” Garrett told me, “But we made him wait at base.” He smiled. “He took that about as well as you would have.”
I swallowed and nodded. “There are so many questions,” I whispered.