“Are you sure he’s . . .”
“Sweetheart, look at him.”
“I haven’t passed yet,” Tray mumbled.
I tried to get up, to go over to him. That was still a little out of my reach, but I turned on my side to face him. The beds were so close together that I could hear him easily. I think he could sort of see where I was.
“Tray,” I said, “I’m so sorry.”
He shook his head wordlessly. “My fault. I should have known . . . the woman in the woods . . . wasn’t right.”
“You did your best. If you had resisted her, you would have been killed.”
“Dying now,” he said. He made himself try to open his eyes. He almost managed to look right at me. “My own damn fault,” he said.
I couldn’t stop crying. He seemed to fall unconscious. I slowly rolled over to face Bill. His color was a little better.
“I would not, for anything, have had them hurt you,” he said. “Her dagger was silver, and she had silver caps on her teeth. . . . I managed to rip her throat out, but she didn’t die fast enough. . . . She fought to the end.”
“Clancy’s given you blood,” I said. “You’ll get better.”
“Maybe,” he said, and his voice was as cool and calm as it had always been. “I’m feeling some strength now. It will get me through the fight. That will be time enough.”
I was shocked almost beyond speech. Vampires died only from staking, decapitation, or from a rare severe case of Sino-AIDS. Silver poisoning?
“Bill,” I said urgently, thinking of so many things I wanted to say to him. He’d closed his eyes, but now he opened them to look at me.
“They’re coming,” Eric said, and all those words died in my throat.
“Breandan’s people?” I said.
“Yes,” Clancy said briefly. “They’ve found your scent.” He was scornful even now, as if I’d been weak in leaving a scent to track.
Eric drew a long, long knife from a sheath on his thigh. “Iron,” he said, smiling.
And Bill smiled, too, and it wasn’t a pleasant smile. “Kill as many as you can,” he said in a stronger voice. “Clancy, help me up.”
“No,” I said.
“Sweetheart,” Bill said, very formally, “I have always loved you, and I will be proud to die in your service. When I’m gone, say a prayer for me in a real church.”
Clancy bent to help Bill out of the bed, giving me a very unfriendly look while he did so. Bill swayed on his feet. He was as weak as a human. He threw off the hospital gown to stand there clad only in drawstring pajama pants.
I didn’t want to die in a hospital gown, either.
“Eric, have you a knife to spare for me?” Bill asked, and without turning from the door, Eric passed Bill a shorter version of his own knife, which was halfway to being a sword, according to me. Clancy was also armed.
No one said a word about trying to shift Tray. When I glanced over at him, I thought he might have already died.
Eric’s cell phone rang, which made me jump a couple of inches. He answered it with a curt, “Yes?” He listened and then clicked it shut. I almost laughed, the idea of the supes communicating by cell phones seemed so funny. But when I looked at Bill, gray in the face, leaning against the wall, I didn’t think anything in the world would ever be funny again.
“Niall and his fae are on the way,” Eric told us, his voice as calm and steady as if he were reading us a story about the stock market. “Breandan’s blocked all the other portals to the fae land. There is only one opening now. Whether they’ll come in time, I don’t know.”
“If I live through this,” Clancy said, “I’ll ask you to release me from my vow, Eric, and I’ll seek another master. I find the idea of dying in the defense of a human woman to be disgusting, no matter what her connection to you is.”
“If you die,” Eric said, “you’ll die because I, your sheriff, ordered you into battle. The reason is not pertinent.”
Clancy nodded. “Yes, my lord.”
“But I will release you, if you should live.”
“Thank you, Eric.”
Geez Louise. I hoped they were happy now they’d gotten that settled.
Bill was swaying on his feet, but neither Eric nor Clancy regarded him with anything but approval. I couldn’t hear what they were hearing, but the tension in the room mounted almost unbearably as our enemies came closer.
As I watched Bill, waiting with apparent calm for death to come to him, I had a flash of him as I’d known him: the first vampire I’d ever met, the first man I’d ever gone to bed with, the first suitor I’d ever loved. Everything that followed had tainted those memories, but for one moment I saw him clearly, and I loved him again.
Then the door splintered, and I saw the gleam of an ax blade, and I heard high-pitched shouts of encouragement from the other fairies to the ax wielder.
I resolved to get up myself, because I’d rather perish on my feet than in a bed. I had at least that much courage left in me. Maybe, since I’d had Eric’s blood, I was feeling the heat of his battle rage. Nothing got Eric going like the prospect of a good fight. I struggled to my feet. I found I could walk, at least a little bit. There were some wooden crutches leaning against the wall. I couldn’t remember ever seeing wooden crutches, but none of the equipment at this hospital was standard human-hospital issue.
I took a crutch by the bottom, hefted it a little to see if I could swing it. The answer was “Probably not.” There was a good chance I’d fall over when I did, but active was better than passive. In the meantime, I had the weapons in my hand that I’d retrieved from my purse, and at least the crutch would hold me up.
All this happened quicker than I can tell you about it. Then the door was splintering, and the fairies were yanking hanging bits of wood away. Finally the gap was large enough to admit one, a tall, thin male with gossamer hair, his green eyes glowing with the joy of the fight. He struck at Eric with a sword, and Eric parried and managed to slash his opponent’s abdomen. The fairy shrieked and doubled over, and Clancy’s blow caught him on the back of the neck and severed his head.
I pressed my back against the wall and tucked the crutch under one arm. I gripped my weapons, one in each hand. Bill and I were side by side, and then he slowly and deliberately stepped in front of me. Bill threw his knife at the next fairy through the door, and the point went right into the fairy’s throat. Bill reached back and took my grandmother’s trowel.
The door was almost demolished by now, and the assaulting fairies seemed to move back. Another male stepped in through the splinters and over the body of the first fae, and I knew this must be Breandan. His reddish hair was pulled back in a braid and his sword slung a spray of blood from its blade as he raised it to swing at Eric.
Eric was the taller, but Breandan had a longer sword. Breandan was already wounded, for his shirt was drenched with blood on one side. I saw something bright, a knitting needle, protruding from Breandan’s shoulder, and I was sure the blood on his sword was Claudine’s. A rage went through me, and that held me up when I would have collapsed.
Breandan leaped sideways, despite Eric’s attempts to keep him engaged, and a very tall female warrior jumped into the spot Breandan had occupied and swung a mace—a mace, for God’s sake—at Eric. Eric ducked, and the mace continued its path and hit Clancy in the side of the head. Instantly his red hair was even redder, and he went down like a bag of sand. Breandan leaped over Clancy to face Bill, his sword slicing off Clancy’s head as he cleared the body. Breandan’s grin grew brighter. “You’re the one,” he said. “The one who killed Neave.”
“I took out her throat,” Bill said, and his voice seemed as strong as it ever had been. But he swayed on his feet.
“I see she’s killed you, too,” Breandan said, and smiled, his guard relaxing slightly. “I’ll only be the one to make you realize it.”