Page 52

I was definitely noticing.

Bernie’s communication tether shimmered from the satchel, forming a small silver and lavender pulse in the air over the table.

Her voice came through, faint but clear. “Status?”

I leaned toward it. “Still alive. Cabin is creepy but defensible. No snacks. Morale questionable.”

Knox gave me a look.

Bernie ignored that part because she was a professional. “Hellmark?”

“Less active,” Knox said. “Maisie blurred the tether at the cabin threshold when it tried to read Guy’s Wards.”

A beat of silence.

Then Guy’s voice, tight and furious. “It tried to read the cabin?”

“Yeah,” I said. “But your Wards slapped its hand.”

Another silence.

Guy exhaled hard. “Good.”

There was something rough in that single word. Something that said Guy had poured a century of pain into every Ward he’d built and maybe, tonight, one of them had protected his brother.

I looked at Knox. He was looking at the little communication shimmer like he wished he could reach through it and hug Guy again without making it weird.

MacAllen men were a walking emotional traffic jam.

Bernie spoke next. “Carrick is still searching the Keevandrie fragments. Stay there. Keep distance from this nexus. Maisie, do not attempt another major interference unless absolutely necessary.”

“Define major.”

“No.”

“That is not a definition.”

“It is a boundary.”

“Rude but fair.”

Knox’s mouth twitched again.

The silver and lavender shimmer dimmed but did not vanish, settling into a quiet standby glow. And then we were alone.

Alone in a Warded cabin.

In a secret penal colony.

Over a Hellmouth.

Holding hands.

Because of a demonic leash.

My love life had really taken a sharp left turn.

Knox turned toward the window, scanning the dark beyond the glass. “You should sit.”