Peter rearranged Evan so he could shake it. “My deepest appreciation for your help. Please send me the bill.”
“No, he told me about you,” the doctor said, nodding at Martinelli. “It’s on the house. I retired two weeks ago, anyway. Oh!” he added, as Martinelli took his arm. “Thatassistant of yours—she should have been a nurse! Wonderfully calm under pressure.”
On that note, the two of them teleported away. He slid Evan onto the couch, tucking a blanket over him, thinking about Beatrix. Then something occurred to him: If she knew how to teleport dayside, they could have fetched a doctor themselves—no one would have been the wiser as long as he’d come along for verisimilitude.
They were very lucky Mrs. Clark hadn’t died because they couldn’t do that. He hadto help Beatrix figure out how.
By the timethe older children were settled on their living-room mats and the baby boy had been carefully washed and swaddled, it was well after midnight. Mr. Clark sprawled halfway on the bed, halfway off, still in his work clothes and deeply asleep. Beatrix lay the drowsing newborn in Sue’s arms, heart constricting at how wrung out and sad she looked. Sue peered down at her child for a long, silent moment, this baby she had not planned for.
“Well, my sweet,” she murmured, dropping a kiss on his forehead, “I suppose we’ll muddle through somehow.”
Beatrix squeezed Sue’s free hand.
“Thank you for everything you’ve done, you and Omnimancer Blackwell,” Sue said, choking up. “I’m so terribly sorry you both are stuck here, and with no beds?—”
“Don’t give it another thought. He can conjure something up, after all.”
“If only I could fix my problems so easily,” Sue murmured.
The words almost tumbled out.You can do magic, too.
Beatrix bit her tongue, literally as well as figuratively. She needed to let Plan B get further removed from her. Recruiting people in Ellicott Mills would be lunacy.
“Don’t leave just yet,” Sue pleaded, and that, at least, Beatrix could do for her. She moved the bassinet by the bed and helped shift the baby into it. She sat with her until Sue’s eyes fluttered closed, her breathing evening out. Then she tiptoed to the door, shut off the light and walked carefully down the pitch-black hall, stopping when her hand reached the end of the wall to let her eyes adjust, lest she step on a sleeping child in the living room.
“How is she?” Peter’s quiet voice came from somewhere near her feet. She blinked, unable to make him out.
“Managing,” she murmured back.
“It just hit me—we never thought to call your sister to tell her where you are.”
She groaned and sat on the floor. “I hope she’s not too worried.”
“I think it would have occurred to one of us earlier, had this never happened and we were in the house as I’d suggested. And then what on earth would we have done?”
Both his phone and hers were bugged. What indeed.
“You were right,” he said.
“And yet here we are, sleeping under the same roof after all,” she said, shaking her head.
“In the same room, no less.”
She could see him now, lying on a mattress, looking at her. Despite the chill in the room, she felt hot.
“I made you a bed—over there,” he said, gesturing. She glanced away with effort and saw it on the other side of the sleeping children, circled by a curtain. Sensible. She turned back, which was not sensible. The top two buttons of his shirt were undone, revealing something she had never seen dayside before—the hollow of his throat. She wanted to kiss it. She wanted to undo the rest of his buttons. Any other night at this time, they would already be in bed together.
Now they were about to slip dreamside while lying mere yards from each other. Nothing better underscored the absurdity of the lines she’d drawn than this. Who did she think she was fooling?
Peter cleared his throat. “The doctor sang your praises. Said you should have been a nurse.”
She tried to think of a reply that didn’t sound as bitter as “I should have been a medical researcher, actually,” and came up with, “Mrs. Clark thanks you from the bottom of her heart for what you did.”
“All I did was badger Martinelli to get someone to help you. Easy work.”
Oh, that self-deprecating smile—oh, oh,oh. If she reached out a hand, she could run her fingers down his jaw. If she leaned in, she could kiss him.
She looked at him. He looked at her.
