Page 82 of Death Makes the Heart Grow Fonder

She wore a dark robe, but her face looked slightly younger than I remembered. As if she had taken up a good skin regiment.

“Oh good,” she said, smiling. “You came inside. That saves me the effort.”

Faith lifted her weapon. “Where is the relic?”

Dagna sighed theatrically. “Still no manners.”

Eve’s hands lit with a low glow, hellfire contained, ready. “Stop stalling.”

Dagna’s smile twitched. “Stalling is such an ugly word. I prefer pacing.”

She flicked her fingers.

The air snapped.

A force slammed into Eve like a shove. Eve staggered back one step, then planted her feet, eyes narrowing.

Dagna’s gaze slid over us, then paused on me.

There was a moment of stillness. A small smile.

Then her eyes flicked lower, as if she could see the thread in my chest that ran to the egg.

“That looks uncomfortable,” she murmured.

Cal’s posture changed instantly. His shoulders broadened slightly, not a full shift, but enough to make the air around him feel heavier. “Do not look at her.”

Dagna laughed softly. “You are adorable when you pretend you can stop me.”

Eve moved first.

Hellfire snapped from her hands in a bright arc, not a wild blast, but a controlled strike aimed at Dagna’s torso. Dagna twisted aside, fast, the flame licking her robe but not catching. A ward shimmered briefly around her, absorbing heat, then vanishing.

Eve did not pause. She followed with a second wave, pushing Dagna backward toward the far end of the lot, away from the hospital walls.

For a few seconds, it looked like Eve might actually win.

Dagna’s smirk faltered. Her steps got quicker. Her wards flashed more frequently, each one eating more of her focus.

Faith and Nishi split off with Tegan and Greyson, moving in a tight search pattern, eyes scanning ground and vehicles, looking for anything that felt like a concealed cache. Tegan’s tracker needle quivered, then swung toward a cluster of parked cars near a low concrete barrier.

“There,” Tegan said, voice tight. “It is close.”

Greyson held his device up like a lantern, runes glowing. “The shield is thick here. If the relic is anchored nearby, it is feeding it.”

Nishi kneeled, ran her fingers above the asphalt without touching. “I see ward lines. Someone drew a circuit.”

Faith leaned over her shoulder. “Can we break it?”

“Quietly,” Nishi said. “Or we trigger whatever she built.”

Faith snorted. “Tonight has been one long trigger.”

My attention kept sliding between Eve’s duel and the search, but the bond tugged harder as the shield space pressed in. I could feel the egg calling for warmth, for stability, for my focus. Every time I turned my attention away, the dark pressure nudged back, subtle but persistent.

Cal stayed at my side like a shadow with muscles. He watched me, then the fight, then the search, as if he was dividing himself into pieces and trying to be everywhere at once.

“You are fading,” he murmured, so low only I could hear.