It wasn’t often I underestimated my wife, but, well, today was one of those times.
“Never,” she warned, “do that again.”
She dragged her hand up and pressed it over my heart. “Never.” It was a threat.
“I’d promise,” I wheezed, “but I don’t lie to you, love.”
She scowled at me, but it only lasted a second. Then she pointed at the van’s open rear doors. “Let Lawrence heal you.”
“Still not a healer,” Lawrence said. At Lu’s look, he quickly added, “Yep, let me take a look and then we’ll get you both to a doctor.”
The adrenalin I’d been running on washed out of me like water down a drain. My headache was off the charts and other aches were making themselves known.
I moved my ass and sat in the back of the van. I might have closed my eyes while Lawrence gently checked my scalp, neck, shoulders, arms, chest.
I was going to ask about Abbi, was going to ask how Lu had talked Hado into leaving her to go after me, but Lawrence tipped a cup of water to my lips and the water was so good, it became my world.
“…doing better,” Lawrence said. I blinked and pushed my head and shoulders off the van wall where I’d been leaning.
“I think the shroud was enough, but again, not a healer. Now that she’s stabilized, I’m going to take you and Brogan to a doctor.”
“We can’t,” Lula said.
“Someone’s going to notice that fire,” he said, like they’d already done a lap or two on this subject and weren’t anywhere closer to the finish line. “We don’t want to be here when they do.”
“I’ll make sure no one sees it.” Lu might have gotten in and out of the fire fast, but her voice was lower, roughened by smoke.
“Magic?” he asked.
“Not everything was damaged. Most of it survived. I’ll need to get a few things to cast the illusion.”
“How long will the illusion last?”
“A few days. Long enough.”
“Long enough for what?”
“For me to get everything in there somewhere else.”
I cleared my throat. “Without a truck?”
She was next to me then, and I couldn’t help but open my eyes to see her.
Gods, she was beautiful. She had wiped most of the ash off her face, but a thin line of it framed her hairline, the corners of her eyes, and darkened her eyebrows.
“Hey, you awake again?”
“Just resting my eyes,” I grumbled, which pulled a smile out of her. “Is Abbi okay?”
“She’s doing better. Just behind you there.”
Hado sat inside on the floor, his back against the van wall. Abbi, the girl, not the rabbit, was curled up on his lap, wrapped in a soft old magical Pendleton blanket. She held the rose quartz in her hand, and I swear it glowed pink.
Hado’s eyes were the cool luminous gray of burnished pewter. I nodded at him in thanks for saving my life. He nodded back in thanks for saving Abbi’s.
“Always did like that old blanket,” I said.
Lu handed me a cup of water, and I squinted at it suspiciously. “Last time I drank something, I fell asleep.”
