“…you can let go, Brogan,” Ricky had been saying. “I got her.”
I blinked hard and focused on the Crossroads. She had opened the back of her truck and her hands were right next to mine, ready to take Lu.
“She’s cold,” I said, as she trembled.
“She’s not cold,” Ricky said gently. “Your arms are shaking. How about we both get her into the truck so we can assess her injuries. And yours.”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re not.”
I held her gaze for a moment then looked away to the mattress with a bright chevron wool blanket thrown across it.
I tried to take a step, and my calf charley-horsed.
Ricky just shook her head. “All right, hero. I’m taking her out of your arms. No, don’t glare death at me. You need more work than she does. Just…stay.”
She shifted her grip on Lu and lifted. My hands slid away from Lu’s warmth, then fell to my sides, absolutely exhausted.
Ricky was strong and swung the much smaller Lu easily into the truck’s covered bed. She arranged Lu’s hands and legs so she was comfortable and pulled another blanket over her.
I suddenly realized Lorde was barking and looked around, panicked she was being chased by the Hush.
“Had to put her in your truck. She was trying to run down that hole after you,” Ricky said. “It’s unlocked, and the window’s down a bit. I’m sure she wants to see you.”
I was already walking to her.
Lorde paced inside, whining and barking and trying to push her nose out the window. I opened the door, still in a daze, wondering if I were alive. Wondering if this was real.
She rushed into my arms, licking and whining. When I finally lifted my arms, she pressed against me, resting her head on my shoulder, breathing.
I threaded my hands into her fur, holding tight to the heat and softness just beneath the coarse outer layer.
And if I sobbed, if I shuddered, trying to shed the horror, trying to shed my fear and helplessness, she did not move.
Her tail wagged softly once, then stilled as she gave me more of her weight. I leaned into her, burying my face in her fur, breathing in her steady, loyal comfort.
“Now you,” Ricky said, pressing her palm carefully on my back. I winced from the heat, from the contact, the world suddenly too many hard edges for me to endure.
“Let’s get the shirt off so I can see the damage. I’ll be careful.”
I released my grip on Lorde, and her tail wagged slowly again. I wiped my face with one hand, then straightened and undid the buttons on the shirt, shrugging out of it with a moan.
Everything hurt.
Ricky grunted, her fingers on my shoulder holding me in place while she inspected my back. “You look like you’ve been through a thresher. Turn.”
I turned, and she gave my chest and stomach a look, prodding at my ribs.
I hissed, and she grunted again.
“The cuts and bites all look shallow. You’ve fractured a rib or two. You’re going to be more bruise than flesh by morning. How are your arms?”
I lifted them, turned my hands, clenched and unclenched my fists. My fingers were bruised and scraped like I’d fallen out of a train and come to a stop across a couple miles of gravel.
“Functional.” I cleared my throat. “It all hurts.”
“I want to clean those cuts. Messing with fae magic or Hush magic is nothing to let linger. How are your legs?”
