Finally, she runs out of steam, tears streaming down her face as she stares up at me. At least she didn't throw anything this time. Her coffee mug didn't survive her anger yesterday, another thing I'm definitely to blame for.
She looks at Fritz, then Caspian, before looking back at me. "What will you do once she wakes up?"
A question I've asked myself a million times. I want to drag her back home and lock her up for the foreseeable future, but she'sproven that restricting her will only come back to bite me in the ass. I can't tell Bel that I'm 100% going to bond with Isla. That's for Isla to explain, not me. It's no secret to any of them how I feel about her, but she needs to be the one to tell them that she feels the same.
I go with the only thing Idoknow, "Well, first things first, she has some unfinished business."
"The business down in the basement?" Fritz asks.
"What's down in the basement?" Caspian turns towards his friend. "What did you do?"
"It's nothing, Cas," Fritz pats his shoulder before pulling Bel into his chest, placing his chin atop her head. "Isla's husband is just awaiting his sentencing."
A growl pulls from my chest at that word. I fucking hate it. "Don't call him that."
He starts to smirk before thinking better of it and relaxing his features so I don't pummel him, "Well, I didn't exactly learn his name. Kyle just said 'Take this one' and pointed me at an unconscious man in the back of the van."
Apparently, cocaine and liquor don't lend to driving a snowmobile particularly well. Kyle found him crashed into a tree a little ways down the road, unfortunately still alive, just battered and bruised and very cold.
"Once Isla is feeling better, she'll decide what to do with him." If it were up to me, he'd be dead already. He's a nobody, but even a nobodycan be dangerous if they're convinced they're a somebodyfor long enough. But I don't think Isla would appreciate me taking away her choice on what to do with the man who forcefully put his hands on her and wascertainly going to harm her in many more ways.
"And then?" Bel cuts back in, knowing I'm avoidingthe question ofwhat happens long-term.
If Isla completes the bond, her blood will be thoroughly tainted. Completely ruined for the Sanctus Sculitis's purposes, but if I tell anyone that, it'll get back to her. And I want her to make that choice because it's something she wants, becauseI'mwhatshe wants. Not because she needs to for her own safety. The bonding might not even work if there's any reasoning behind it besides the desire to be with me forever. It's hard to know; magic is such a finicky thing.
"And then she'll do whatever she wants. I think she's proven to all of us that there's no stopping her from doing anything, no matter how hard I try." I shrug, "Maybe she'll stay here."
"You would let her do that?" One of her brows raises in disbelief.
The ideaof itmakes my skin crawl, not just because that would mean seeing awholelot more of Fritz, but having Isla in my space made it feel whole.The emptiness there without her is unbearable. "There's nolettingher do anything. She killed four men and freed dozens of their prisoners, she's a force to be reckoned with, one even I can't control."
"All due respect," Caspian clears his throat, "I fear that keeping her here might do more harm than good. How many of their targets do we need in one place?"
A fair point.One that Ican'treally refutewithoutexplaining tothemthat Alastor has defected and is running interference.That's a betrayal I don't think Bel would ever forgive mefor.But he'scurrentlysitting just a few doors down, watching all the channels the Sanctum uses to find people, sending themonwild goose chases with planted evidence I helped him spread.
We are currently safe because of him, and there's no way I can ever give him the credit he deserves, the forgiveness he craves. This helps, but it won't fix the damage he did to Belissenda and Caspian, no matter how many times he saves them now.
"The hope is that having so many of their men disposed of, and one of their... hiding places exposed will occupy their forces for a while." I don't think Bel needs to hear the wordsbreeding groundsin relation tosomewhere they were going to trap her friend, so I have to dance around the harsh truth of what could have happened if things went wrong down there. Shecertainlyknows, but knowing something and saying it out loud are two very different things.
A quiet, pained groan travels from the other room, drawing my attention immediately.
"She's awake."
Bel wastes no time, practically sprinting through the hall to her best friend's bedside. I follow closely behind, needing to get my eyes on a conscious Isla the second I can.
Her eyes slowly flutter open before closing again, her hand pressing against her temple. She opens her mouth to speak but can't make much more than a coughing sound, her throat dry from days withoutanywater.
The doctor steps in, holding a small cupin front ofher and demanding that she drink slowly and try not to speak yet. Her eyes open again, the effects of the drugs still keeping her groggy and heavy-lidded. The small, pitiful sips she takes make my chest constrict. Isla's strength always made her seem larger than life— like not even deathitselfcould take her. And yet, right now, in that bed, she looks sosmalland helpless.
Bel sniffles, reaching out for her hand and grasping it. Fritz drags a chair over, settling Bel into it so she can bring her friend comfort while she comes out of her coma. The doctor continues to slowly help Isla drink, easing her bed slightly upright. Isla can'tseem tofocus on much of anything, her eyes glazed as they float between open and closed.
She mutters something, and while none of us catch it, the hopeful part of me thinks it sounds suspiciously like my name.
"Eamon," shesays it again, her voice little more than a croak. "Where's Eamon?"
I step further into the room, "I'm right here." My voice shakes as I wait for what she'll say next. Will she scream at me for not protecting her? Will she ask about the people she saved?It would bejustlike her to choose this moment to rub it in my face that she was right andsheoutsmarted all of us.
"You still have something you're supposed to tell me," her voice shakes as she teases me and struggles to chuckle afterward.
