She was gone before he could respond, nightgown fluttering behind her.
He put on his ruined shirt and headed for his own shower. It was going to be a long day.
By the time Marcus emerged,dressed in fresh clothes, Hazel had transformed back into her usual prickly self. She stood at the stove in jeans and an oversized sweater, scrambling eggs aggressively.
“Tea’s in the pot,” she said without turning. “And before you reorganize my spice rack again, I know where everything is.”
He poured himself a cup, noting she’d made it exactly how he liked it. Two sugars, no milk. When had she learned that?
“About last night…” he began.
“Murraue attack. You saved me. Moving on.” She divided the eggs between two plates with unnecessary force. “Toast?”
“Hazel.”
“Do you want toast or not?”
He accepted the change of subject. For now. “Toast would be fine.”
They ate in stilted silence. Azrael watched from the windowsill, tail flicking slowly back and forth.
After a few minutes, the cat grabbed a piece of bacon and headed for the cat flap Marcus had installed yesterday.
“You’re not staying?” Hazel asked.
“I’ll be outside. You two clearly have things to discuss.” He vanished before she could respond.
“Your familiar has opinions,” Marcus noted.
“My familiar knows when to leave a room.” She stabbed at her eggs. “We should reinforce the wards today. That thing found us too easily.”
“Agreed. And…” He hesitated. “I have something in my briefcase. A charm that should help with nightmares.”
“A charm?”
“Silver and obsidian. Wear it while you sleep, and it creates a buffer. Not foolproof, but it should buy us time if another one comes hunting.”
She looked up sharply. “You just happened to have an anti-nightmare charm?”
“I told you. These attacks aren’t uncommon for witnesses.”
She threw her napkin at him. He caught it without looking up from his plate.
“Show-off,” she muttered.
“I prefer ‘competent.’”
They spent the morning working on the wards. Marcus produced the promised charm from his briefcase, a delicatechain with a small pendant that looked like crystallized midnight.
“Sleep with this on,” he said, handing it over.
“And it’ll keep the nightmares away?”
“It’ll make you less… appetizing to things that hunt in dreams.”
“Charming.” But she put it on, the pendant settling just below her collarbone. “Thanks.”
By afternoon, the cabin was wrapped in layers of protection. Hazel stood back to admire their work.
