Annette
Temple was dying.
Bringing him home had helped, but it wasn’t enough. I could feel the vitality seeping from his body. Between the power he’d channeled at the Gauntlet and the assault on his home, it was all too much for him. His breathing was rough and ragged, and his face was pale. His fingertips had taken on a faint blue tinge.
“What do we do?” asked Ronnie.
“I’m not sure.” Jenny was the healer, not me. I sniffed and wiped my eyes. “Damn you, Temple. Your timing sucks balls. End-of-the-world scenarios are when it’s extra useful to have a functioning wizard on hand.”
“Right up there with birthday parties.” He laughed quietly, then coughed. His eyes opened slightly. “It’s a shame I won’t get to see my next one.”
I wanted to punch him to make him take those words back. Instead, I forced a smile. “For your hundredth, I was planning to hire elven strippers to jump out of your cake.”
Temple groaned. “As long as you’re not the one baking the cake.”
“Asshole.” It had been fourteen minutes since Jenny entered the house. I didn’t even know if she was alive. “Jenny’s still inside.”
“I know.” A flake of gray snow landed on Temple’s face. He wrinkled his nose. “R’gngyk’s coming.”
“Most guys fall asleep after that, so we have a little time.” When he didn’t respond, I added, “That was succubus humor.”
“You need to work on it.”
More snow drifted down around us. The sky had turned cloudy, and the temperature had dropped at least fifteen degrees since we arrived. The snowfall was centered around the shop. That was probably a bad sign.
“Did I ever thank you for bailing me out twenty years ago?” he asked.
“No.” I managed a smile. “In fact, I recall you threatening to turn us both into newts for barging into your life and interfering with your affairs. You told me to take my damn money and go back to Chicago.”
“I’m glad you didn’t listen.”
I squeezed his hand. “We need to help Jenny. I can’t get through the door. Alex—”
“The little punk rewrote my spell, I know.”
I’d be helpless as soon as I passed through the doorway. Just like Jenny. “I need you to fix it. Morgan is in there. I know you’re exhausted, but I need your help.”
Temple turned his head and smiled. “No, I’m not afraid.”
“Great.” I grabbed him by the arm and shoulder to help him sit up.
“That would be nice, thank you.” He wasn’t looking at me or Ronnie. His gaze was fixed on a point between us, in the direction of the van.
My chest grew heavy. “Temple, can you hear me?”
He chuckled. “Not for years, but I think I remember how.”
“He’s talking to Mom, isn’t he?” Ronnie asked quietly.
Temple stretched out his hand and squeezed something I couldn’t see—the ghost’s hand? Or maybe not her hand, in which case, good for him. But I needed him here. “Temple, please. Not yet.”
The front door swung open. I spun and grabbed my knife. I doubted it would stop Alex, but at the very least, planting the blade in his remaining human eye might piss him off.
But it was Jenny who stepped through. My relief at seeing her turned to horror at the sight of the two bodies she carried, one under each arm. Each was wrapped in sheets and blankets I’d last seen in our guest bedrooms.
No . . .My heart screamed the sound. The knife fell from my fingers. I couldn’t breathe. Ronnie was holding my arm.
Jenny saw me, and her face paled. “No! It’s all right. They’re alive.”
