Page 81 of Death Makes the Heart Grow Fonder

“We don’t get to choose one crisis,” I said quietly. “So we do what we always do.”

Faith’s gaze snapped to me. “What’s that?”

I forced a thin smile I did not feel. “We do the impossible.”

CHAPTER 11

Greyson’s shield device still sat on the wet pavement. The runes along its frame pulsed once, then dimmed, as if it were catching its breath.

I wished I could catch mine.

The bond to the egg tugged at my insides with every heartbeat. It was not pain exactly. More like a steady drain, the way a phone died faster when you had too many apps running. I could keep the baby safe, but the cost was showing up in my legs, in my concentration, and in the tremor in my hands.

Cal noticed anyway.

His stance stayed close to mine, shoulder angled toward me, as if he could turn his body into a shield through sheer intent. Protective did not even begin to cover it. Concern sat on him like armor, and through the egg bond echo it felt louder than normal, as if his emotions had discovered a megaphone.

Faith paced a short line near the hospital’s side entrance, weapon in hand, jaw set. Nishi stood nearer the service road, her posture still, her eyes scanning for movement. Eve and Tegan were a few steps away with Greyson, all of them looking at the area Dagna had been, as if staring hard enough might pull her back into existence.

Greyson crouched beside the device, adjusting dials and muttering like a man arguing with a stubborn appliance.

“I can widen it,” he said. “For a short burst. But if I do, it will be loud. The shield will react.”

Faith stopped pacing. “Good. Let it react.”

Eve’s gaze narrowed. “If we step through, we may not step back out easily.”

Tegan held her tracker, bone needle jittering. “The relic is behind that curtain. I can feel the signal trying to slip away from us.”

Cal’s voice was low. “And the calling is still pressing on the egg.”

He did not look at me when he said it, but I felt it anyway. The baby’s distress was like static under my skin, quiet but constant.

“We go,” I said, surprising myself with the steadiness of my tone. “We cannot stand here while she plays games.”

Eve’s eyes flicked to me. “Salima, you are running on borrowed energy.”

“I know,” I said. “That is why we end this quickly.”

Faith gave a quick nod. “I agree.”

Greyson straightened, wiped water off his hands on his jeans, then set both palms on the device. The runes brightened in response.

“On my mark,” he said. “Don’t wait.”

The air before us quaked.

That same thin seam appeared, but this time it widened. Not a slit, a doorway, narrow and vertical, edges vibrating like heat over asphalt. Beyond it, the parking lot looked altered. The lights were dimmer. The colors less honest. Even the sound seemed muffled, as if the shield wrapped everything in a thick blanket.

Greyson’s voice sharpened. “Now.”

We moved.

Cal went first, because of course he did. I followed close, then Faith and Nishi. Eve came through with Tegan and Greyson, and the moment my boots hit the other side, my stomach dipped as if gravity had shifted slightly.

The shield space felt wrong in a way that was hard to describe. It was still the same parking lot, still the same asphalt and painted lines, but everything carried a film of unreality. My breath sounded louder in my ears. My skin prickled as if the air held grit.

And then Dagna stepped out from behind an SUV as if she had been waiting for us.