As Lie the Dead

Someone knocked on the door, and we all turned to look. A timid, curly-haired head peeked around the edge of the half-open door, and a wide blue eye crinkled as she smiled. “You’re awake,” Aurora said.

I grinned. Seeing her with my own eyes lifted a bit of worry from my chest. She stepped fully into view, cheeks flushed and arms full of a squirming baby girl. Wrapped in a blue blanket, she waved small fists in the air, as if demanding attention. Eyes as round and blue as her mother’s gazed around the room, and she squealed when she saw Phin.

“She’s beautiful,” I said. “She was born yesterday?”

Aurora laughed in her songbird voice. “Our children grow quickly.”

“What’s her name?”

“I wished to honor you, Evy, but tradition requires the same first letter as the mother. So I chose Ava.”

Few things in my life could render me utterly speechless, but Aurora had with her generosity and my namesake. What the hell had I done to deserve that sort of honor?

“It’s a beautiful name,” I said finally.

“Would you like to hold her?”

“I’d probably drop her.”

“You won’t.”

Despite my protests, Aurora deposited the baby in my arms. The blanket slipped from my shoulders and puddled around my waist. I was beyond self-conscious, sitting like that with a baby in my lap. Her heart beat so fast and precious, her life so fragile, smelling of that fresh baby smell. Surrounded by people who truly cared about her welfare. And mine. Safe.

Wyatt traced his finger down Ava’s arm. She clutched his finger in her small hand and drew it into her mouth to chew on. He laughed.

“Evangeline, may I ask a favor of you?” Aurora said. Her tone shifted from giddy to serious, and the change reflected in her face. Round eyes were hooded, the color more intense.

“Of course,” I said.

“Be Ava’s Aluli.”

Phin’s head snapped toward her, which clued me in that the unfamiliar word carried some weight.

“What is that?” I asked.

“The closest word you have is ‘godmother,’” Aurora replied. My heart fluttered. “Phineas is already her Agida. If anything happens to me, I want you both to protect my daughter.”

“Nothing’s going to happen to you.”

“You can’t know that. I may live to see Ava grow into a beautiful woman with children of her own, but I can’t know for sure. Please say yes.”

I had no experience with children. I avoided them in public places and had never possessed the desire to raise my own. I’d never changed a diaper, babysat, or even held a baby until now. I had every reason to say no, that she’d chosen the wrong woman for the job.

“Yes,” I said. “I’m honored.”

“You are a warrior, Evangeline. You honor me with your acceptance. I have no fear for her now.”

Wyatt nudged me gently with his shoulder. I looked at him, curious. His mouth was quirked in an amused half smile, and one eyebrow was arched dramatically. I shot him a withering look, and he laughed out loud. I started to say something, but a strange odor killed the words. He sniffed. I sniffed. What the hell …?

“I think she needs a diaper change,” Wyatt said.

I groaned. Aurora smiled, took her back with a practiced ease, and left. I wiggled my toes, testing the muscles up and down my legs, still wrapping my mind around the latest conversation. I was now the Therian equivalent of a godmother to Aurora’s daughter. Yikes. At least my legs felt stronger, more able to hold my weight. Being unconscious for twenty-four hours had probably atrophied the muscles.

“So just to summarize,” I said, “we have no more leads to follow and no inkling as to Call’s next move.”

Wyatt started nodding, but Phin said, “Not exactly.”

My head snapped up. “Care to elaborate?”

“Snow said he would introduce me to Call tonight. I’m supposed to meet him at four o’clock.”

“And when the hell were you going to tell us?”

“I almost wasn’t.” Before I could snarl a protest, he continued. “I knew if I did, you’d want to go with me, and I’d have to remind you that Snow thinks you’re my sexually aggressive girlfriend, as well as dead, and I wanted to save the inevitable argument about wearing a wire or something.”

He’d nailed me on that one.

Wyatt’s hand drifted to my blanket-covered thigh—a light and protective touch. “Does Snow thinking you’re dead have anything to do with him stabbing you?”

“Yes,” I replied, covering his hand with mine. Partly for the comfort of his warmth and partly to make sure he didn’t act on the anger that flashed across his face. To Phin, I said, “So you meet Snow alone, and then what?”

“I hope he takes me to Call. I’ll get what answers I can before anything goes down, then pass them on to you. We go from there.”

“I hate that plan.”

“Why? Because you can’t play?”

“Yes, and because you’re going in there alone and with no way for us to back you up.”

Phin smiled patiently. “That’s sweet.”

I frowned. “I’m serious, Phin.”

“You know I can take care of myself.”

“Against half a dozen boxers, yeah. What if sixty-odd Dregs decide they don’t trust you and want to turn you into osprey fillets?”

“Won’t happen.”

“You’re damned sure of your acting abilities.”

He laughed and crossed his arms over his chest. “Actually, I’m more sure of my position within the Assembly. Call knows who I am, and no matter how many of his recruits are Therian, he won’t tempt the ire of the entire Assembly by killing me. Maiming, perhaps even some form of torture, but not death. Whatever his goal, this man wants support, not enemies.”

“Unless they’re Triads,” I said with a derisive snort.

“Yes.”

“We can follow you at a distance.”

“They’ll know, Evy. Whether they see you, hear you, or smell you, they’ll know someone’s watching.”

I wasn’t going to win the argument, and I hated losing. Phin was meeting Snow that afternoon no matter what I said. We couldn’t bug him, and we couldn’t follow him. I was out of options. “Okay, fine. Just promise you’ll be careful. I’m not sure of the specifics of this Aluli thing, but something tells me part of it is not letting the Agida die.”

Phin nodded, smiling again, but there was no mirth in his eyes. Just a hard determination. “I’ll be as careful as I can, I promise. Now if we’re done arguing in circles, I’ll go check on lunch.”

“Thank God. I’m starving.” My stomach grumbled at the mention of food. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d eaten. “Tell me it’s hamburgers or spaghetti or something—”

“You’re getting broth for now,” Wyatt said. “You haven’t eaten in a while, and we don’t want to shock your system.”

I groaned. “You’re cruel.”

“Only because I care.” The hand on my thigh went around my waist, and I leaned against his chest. Heard his thrumming heart, so strong in my ear. Inhaled his scent—clean and masculine, but missing that hint of cinnamon. Must be a soap or aftershave he’d not had access to since leaving the hospital.

Phin had left at some point, closing the door almost completely.

I nuzzled a little closer, calmed by Wyatt’s embrace. So much had happened, and so quickly, it felt like a month since that night in First Break. What we’d thought was our last night together. I’d wanted so badly to be with him then, and couldn’t. I’d wanted to say I loved him the way he loved me, and couldn’t. He’d said he understood,