No, I felt it—the faint buzz of power from the Break. My hand flew to my chest and found the familiar smoothness of the cross necklace. The heavy weight of thick brown hair falling almost to my waist. Tears stung my eyes as confusion set in fast and sharp, roiling my stomach. My heart thudded hard. In the far corner of the room— how had I not seen it before?—was a hospital IV stand and two empty solution bags. How long had I been here?
“Hello!” My voice was raspy and thick, coming out more like a frog’s croak than a call for help.
The bedroom door swung open, and Wyatt rushed in, a paperback novel still clenched in one hand. He was clean-shaven and looked relatively healthy and pain-free. His entire face lit up when our eyes met. My heart leapt, relief warring with confusion in a dizzying battle.
“Hey, sleeping beauty,” he said, in a mirror of his words only … well, sometime earlier.
Dozens of questions raced through my mind, each one demanding to be asked first. Stupidly, the one I asked was: “What’s that smell?”
He blinked, then smiled. After tossing the book on the foot of the bed, he came over and perched near my knees. “A gift from Isleen, actually. Those herbs over there promote healing. We figured it couldn’t hurt, given you took a four-story header onto the pavement.”
That’s right. I’d gone out a window with Cole. The entire night came back in a rush of pain and sensations. Everything we’d done, everything we’d tried to prevent. “The theater?”
His smile vanished, and he hesitated. “We were right about the tunnel access. Our teams met up with about forty Halfies down there. The tight spaces gave us an advantage, but it was a tough fight. Twenty or so still got up into the theater and started killing. Gina found the source of the barrier spell and destroyed it, so the regular police were able to get in. Not sure how the hell they explained it to them, though.”
“How’d we do?” I asked.
“Baylor lost his rookie. Two of Morgan’s Hunters were wounded, but they’ll live.”
I felt a small amount of relief knowing that the Triads had suffered only one casualty. It could have been much worse. I was even glad Paul Ryan had apparently survived the onslaught. He was a trigger-happy little shit, but he was a fighter, and the Triads needed every fighter they could hold on to. “How did Kismet’s boys make out?”
He flinched. “Tybalt …”
My mouth went dry. “Is he dead?”
“No. But he’s in pretty bad shape. A Halfie bit him on the hand, so Milo …” Wyatt grimaced, a little pale at what I could only imagine had happened in such a situation. “Milo cut his left arm off at the elbow to stop the infection. Nearly bled out before they got him to the hospital. So far, he’s not showing any signs of turning, but he lost half his goddamn arm.”
I felt ill and reached for Wyatt’s hand. He squeezed hard. They’d done the best they could to save Tybalt’s life. Still, what good was a Hunter with one arm? He’d never use his butterfly swords again. I swallowed, no moisture in my mouth. “Have you talked to her?”
“Who, Gina?”
“Yeah.” All our personal bullshit aside, she was still his friend and had to be upset over Tybalt’s injury.
“Once, Monday morning. She told me the truth about the factory.” Grief deepened his frown. “I think she was hurting over what happened to Tybalt and …”
I stroked the back of his hand with my thumb. “She didn’t want to lose someone else she cares about?”
He nodded. I got that. They’d been through a lot together, been friends for years longer than I’d known him. Even though she believed she’d killed me and hurt Wyatt irreparably, Kismet had still reached out. I admired that.
“The innocents?” I asked, still curious about the theater.
“Out of two hundred and ninety guests, there were sixty-four casualties.”
Sixty-four innocent deaths. Not to mention that the half-Blood vampires raging through the party had to have made a couple of the city’s gossip papers. It was one of the boldest displays of Dreg activity I’d ever witnessed. Well, sort of witnessed. The brass and the Fey Council would have their hands full dealing with it. Unless they’d already dealt with it, which raised the question—
“What day is it?”
“Wednesday evening.”
“Holy shit.”
“Aurora got you out of there after you fell,” he said, eyes bracketed with old worry as he recalled that night. “We collected Phin and called Jenner, who got his doctor friend back out here to take care of you both. Because of your ability to heal and the sort of injuries you had, he wanted us to keep you sedated for at least forty-eight hours. Not an easy task because of said healing ability.”
I almost asked what injuries. But, after a fall from four floors up, my imagination could fill in those gaps nicely. “Why here?”
“Because the Triads still think you’re dead.” He smiled at what must have been a priceless look of shock on my face. “No one saw you that night, and we were able to keep your name out of our side of things. Jenner helped us get the lease back on this apartment. I figured it’s the last place anyone would look for a dead woman.”
“Cole?”
His face darkened. “Cole Randall died four years ago, Evy. The man who went out the window with you is named Leonard Call, and he’s at St. Eustachius, in a coma and likely to remain there. Snow was turned over to the Assembly for punishment, which Phin promises will be severe. It seems the Assembly isn’t lenient on those who conspire against its decisions.”
“So Phin’s okay?”
“Apparently weres not only age faster than humans, but they also heal faster. His nose is back to normal, and there’s no permanent damage from those knives, other than a pair of nasty scars. He’s pretty eager to thank you for saving his life.”
“You mean he’s lurking outside the bedroom door again?” I was half-serious.
“No, I sent him home a few hours ago.”
“You sent him home?”
He shifted a bit, getting more comfortable on the bed, still grasping my hand like a lifeline. “Aurora and Joseph left the city like they planned. They’re living thirty miles west of here, in a small place in the mountains. Phin wanted to stay, though. He knows that even with Call in a coma and all those Halfies dead, Call’s militia isn’t just going to fall apart, and he wants to help. He’s renting a condo Uptown.”
The corners of his mouth quirked, like he knew a joke he wasn’t sharing.
“What?”
The quirk turned into a full smile. “In probably the strangest turn of events while you were sleeping, Phin opened a spare bedroom to someone else we both know who is currently homeless.”
I stared at him, mind blank. We knew a homeless person? My confusion only seemed to amuse Wyatt more, and I contemplated a swift punch in the arm to make him tell. Then I got it. “Rufus?”
“Yup. Phineas admitted to being responsible for the fire that killed Nadia and burned down half the building, then he made his peace offering. Given Rufus’s proclivity toward martyrdom, I was surprised he accepted. They seem to have reached a tentative truce—especially now that the Assembly has officially pardoned Rufus for his actions against the Owlkins, at Phin’s insistence.”
Something caught in my throat, and, for a moment, I thought it was a sob. Instead, a bubble of laughter erupted, so loud that Wyatt jumped. I tried to stop and couldn’t. The euphoria of that single giggle multiplied into dozens more, and I launched myself at Wyatt, catching him in a bear hug. He grunted, nearly falling off the bed.
“What is all this?” he asked, arms looping around my waist.
I squeezed his shoulders, laughing like a lunatic, tears streaming down my cheeks. “We did it,” I managed between euphoric guffaws. “My promise to protect Aurora’s baby and to save Rufus’s life. We did it.”
He finally started laughing along. As I sobered, I pressed my face into his neck, inhaling him and the hint of cinnamon I loved so much. Heady and male and just a little sweet. I never wanted to let go.
The militia was down, not out, although I doubted they’d start any trouble in the near future. Leaderless, they would be a nuisance more than a real threat. With Call/Cole’s unmasking, we’d found so many more answers to the
