The Hallowed Ones

tattoo but didn’t touch it. “That must have hurt.”

“Actually, I don’t remember the pain.”

“You must have been drunk.”

He turned in the light, showed me a mark on his chest, right above his heart. “This one hurt more. I was sober for that one.”

“I was going to suggest that you spend a lot of the time drunk,” I said dryly.

This looked like a stylized cross, burned black. I peered at it. “It’s a brand,” I said, in startlement. I’d seen enough of those on cattle. I reached out to touch it in spite of myself, feeling uneven skin.

“Yeah. It’s what the hipsters called scarification. You basically let a couple of buddies hold you down while some tattoo- covered sadist who calls himself an artist drops a red-hot brand on you.”

I glanced up at him. “Are you nuts?”

“Eh. Off and on.”

I stared at the symbol. It seemed both familiar and foreign. “And what does this one mean?”

“It’s an ankh. The Egyptian symbol of eternal life.”

“Strange tattoo for a man who believes he’s about to be dead.” I pulled back my hand.

“Hey, you buy into the eternal life thing too. Just in heaven.”

“Maybe. But we don’t have to be branded to obtain it.”

“I think I’d rather be branded than submit to some of the things that you have to.” He said this without spite, just a soft statement of fact. “I’m not strong enough to do that.”

I wrapped my arms around my knees. I had nothing to say to that. I didn’t feel strong. I felt small and weak and not nearly worldly enough to face what was happening.

Alex reached out, pushed a tendril of loose hair behind my ear. His touch was light as a feather. Not the clumsy fingers that I was accustomed to with Elijah. I shivered.

“You’re cold,” he said automatically. He unfolded himself and stood. “I’ll get you a blanket . . . see if I can haul one out from beneath the dog.”

“Thank you,” I said. “I should check on Sunny.”

I followed him and the bobbing beam of the flashlight to the back paddock, Copper at my side. The flashlight’s batteries were failing, and the glow was more of a dull ember, barely enough to see by.

Sunny was stretched out on one of her blankets and looked up when she saw me. I knelt beside her, stroking her belly. I could feel the puppies moving within her, restless. I kissed her behind the ear.

“She’ll have her litter soon,” I said. “Maybe in the next couple of days.”

“Um. I don’t know anything about puppies,” Alex said. That was the first uncertain note I’d ever heard in his voice.

“I’ll handle it. Don’t worry about it.”

“Good.” He dropped a blanket over me that smelled like dog, tucked it up under my chin. There was a peculiar tenderness in that gesture.

He dug in his bundle of clothes for a shirt. I was a bit sorry to see him put it on. I was fascinated by the marks he’d put on his flesh . . . and more than a little fascinated by the flesh itself. Blushing, I turned away.

“Will they notice you’re gone?” he asked.

“Probably not until morning,” I said.

“At the risk of sounding incredibly forward, I think that you should stay here until the sun rises.”

I opened my mouth to protest, but he leaned forward and put his finger to my lips. My lips buzzed, and I forgot what I was going to say.

“Look, I’m not really concerned about your standards of decency. I’m more concerned about your safety.”

“I have the Himmelsbrief,” I said in a small voice against his finger, but I didn’t relish the idea of running the vampire gauntlet again.

“You mean you have it until the vamps glamour you into throwing it on the ground. Then you’re a midnight snack. Here you’re under the Hex sign.” He withdrew his hand, settled up against a wall with his arms across his chest. “As sad as it makes me to say it, you’re probably safer with me.”

“I’m quite sure that you say that to anything in a skirt,” I retorted primly.

“Historically, that’s probably accurate,” he admitted. “But I’m less of a monster than what’s out there.”

The flashlight winked out. I heard Alex scrape around in the straw to slap it twice, but it remained dark.

“Great,” he muttered.

My eyes adjusted slowly. Streamers of moonlight filtered in through the chinks in the boards. It wasn’t pitch-black, but I was accustomed to darkness. The Plain folk didn’t sleep with night-lights.

Alex leaned back up against the far wall of the paddock. “You sleep. I’ll keep watch.”

I stood, crossed to the far side of the paddock, and sat down next to Alex. I opened the blanket like a wing. “I’ll share if you promise not to bite.”

He nodded, pulled the blanket around him. Gingerly, he put his arm around my shoulder. He smelled of straw and soap. I could hear his pulse thudding hypnotically in my ear.

And I slept the dreamless sleep of the dead.

Chapter Seventeen

“Hey. Wake up.”

“Huh.” I was warm and didn’t want to get out of bed just yet.

“Sun’s rising.”

I blinked. I wasn’t in my bed. I was in the kennel, curled up next to Alex with my head on his chest. His arm was draped over me, his thumb resting lightly on my collarbone.

I was terrified. And I didn’t want to move.

“C’mon, Katie. You’ve got to get back before they notice you’re gone.” Alex’s voice was slurred in sleep. I thought for a moment that he had me confused with Cassia, but he’d called me Katie.

He kissed me on the top of my head.

That scared me. I slipped out from under his arm and the blanket and crawled over to where the dogs lay. Sunny’s head felt warm, as it usually did. I ran my fingers over her sides. No sign of labor yet. But there would be soon. Maybe today, maybe tomorrow.

I turned back to Alex, who’d risen and was folding the blanket. “If she goes into labor before I get back . . .”

“Um, no . . . that’s not gonna happen. I don’t do labor.” Sleepiness gave way to terror on his face. “You have to get back,” he pleaded, cleared his throat. “For the dog.”

I continued, firmly. “If she goes into labor before I get back, don’t panic. This isn’t her first time. Give her water. And watch her. The puppies will come on their own. Give her a couple of minutes to tear off the membranes for each pup. If she doesn’t do it, you have to, or the pup will suffocate.”

“Shit.” Alex watched me with rounded eyes. He was awake now.

“Tie the umbilical cord off and cut it about an inch from the puppy’s belly.”

“Shit,” he repeated. “With what?”

“There are scissors in the tackle box in the front of the barn. Expect about one pup an hour after she’s gone into hard labor.”

“Shit. How many will she have?”

I grinned. The look on his face was worth listening to his swearing. “Usually four.” I stood and patted his sleeve. “You’ve faced the Undead. You can handle this.”

He looked at me skeptically. “Um . . .”

“She does all the work. Just be there for her.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Okay.”

“Don’t panic,” I repeated.