“Carter has gone to find Brodie,” he says, his voice hopeful.
It’s a good idea. Brodie’s healing magic might be the only thing that can save Ned now. But a bitter knot twists in my stomach. Brodie should have been here already. Jade had to be hidden, I know that. He almost opened a portal to the fey realm, and he killed a Council member. It’s chaos. And of course Red, ever the protector, took it upon himself to get Jade to safety. And where Red goes, Brodie isn’t far behind.
I understand it, I really do, but damn it, I wish Brodie were here. We need him. Ned needs him.
A heavy sigh escapes me as I try to think of something, anything, that could help. Everything we’ve tried so far has failed. Getting Ned to feed was a disaster.
Speaking of which, “Did Gray take that poor human back to wherever he found him?”
Lello nods, his blue eyes wide. “He didn’t want to, but Mal made him. Listening to your mate is always a good idea.”
Relief washes over me. That poor bewildered and terrified human looked like he’d seen the gates of hell, and Gray was so confused why we were all aghast.
Lello shifts his gaze back to me, his expression lighting up with sudden realization.
“Oh!” he exclaims, the sound breaking through the gloom. “Ned will listen to Morgan if Morgan tells him to feed!”
I pinch the bridge of my nose, exhaling slowly. “Morgan and Ned are not mates,” I remind him.
Lello’s lips curl into a defiant pout. “So?”
“So, it won’t work.”
“Yes, it will!” Lello insists, his voice gaining a stubborn edge. “Ned loves Morgan! That’s why he’s too sad to feed, because he still thinks Morgan hates him. If Morgan came here and they made up, Ned would feed!”
His words hang in the air, and for a moment, I don’t respond. There’s a wild logic to what he’s saying, but it’s a fragile hope, strung together by emotion and wishful thinking.
Could it work?
I glance at Ned’s motionless form, my chest tightening. Maybe Lello’s right. Maybe Morgan is the key. Besides, it is not like we have much to lose.
“Come on, then!” I say, springing to my feet. The sharp scrape of the chair against the floor matches the energy surging through me. Taking action, any action, feels infinitely better than sitting around, stewing in useless frustration.
Lello doesn’t need to be told twice. He bounces up, his wide blue eyes sparkling with excitement at the sudden burst of activity, and together we race out to the driveway. The cars we all share sit there, quiet and unassuming, but one of them is about to carry the weight of our hopes.
Lello clambers into the passenger seat. “I can’t drive,” he reminds me brightly, as if that’s a fun fact.
“I know,” I reply, as I start the engine. “You know where Morgan lives. I can drive. It’s perfect teamwork.”
The drive is mercifully short, but it feels like an eternity with Lello buzzing beside me, his nervous energy filling the car. He’s practically out the door before I’ve even turned off the ignition, sprinting up to Morgan’s house like his life depends on it.
By the time I catch up, Lello is already jabbing at the doorbell with the urgency of someone trying to summon a lifeline. I take a deep breath, steeling myself for whatever comes next.
Morgan opens the door. His dark eyes are shadowed with loss, his shoulders heavy with a sadness that seems to permeate the air around him. My heart twinges with sympathy.
Lello doesn’t wait for pleasantries. He launches straight into the story, his words tumbling over each other in a frantic rush. “Jade, the stone circle, Ned..he’s not feeding, he’s fading…”
Morgan’s expression shifts from confusion to alarm. His eyes widen, and for a moment, he looks like he might barge past us to run to his car.
“Ned needs you,” Lello says, his voice soft but insistent.
Morgan steps forward, then hesitates. He glances over his shoulder, back into the house, his face a mask of conflict. “The kids,” he murmurs.
“I can watch them,” I offer quickly. The words are out before I fully think them through, but there’s no hesitation in my voice. I’m desperate to keep the momentum going, to not let anything derail this fragile chance. “I love kids,” I add, hoping to sound convincing.
Morgan’s dark eyes flick to me, scrutinizing. I can’t blame him. I’m a stranger, standing on his doorstep, asking him to leave his children in my care.
For a moment, the silence stretches too long. Then, with a decisive nod, he steps aside and gestures for me to follow him inside.
