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I reached up to pull myself onto the ice—and failed. Snow fell in to make puddles of slush. Switching tactics, I tried to lever my leg up. It wouldn't move. I couldn't move my leg.

"Okay," I said, not as scared as I thought I ought to be. The cold must have numbed everything—even my thoughts felt blurry. I was supposed to be doing something, but I couldn't remember what. I blinked as I saw Trent, his legs still in the water.

"Oh, yeah," I whispered. I had to get out of the water. The sky above me was black, and the night was silent but for the ringing in my ears and the faint sound of sirens. The light from the fires was dim and going dimmer. My fingers wouldn't work, and I had to use my arms like clubs to pull a chunk of boat closer. Concentrating to not lose my thought, I pushed it under to buoy me up. A groan slipped from me when, with its help, I managed to slip a leg up onto the ice. I rolled awkwardly and lay panting. The wind was like fire on my back, and the ice was warm. I'd done it.

"Where is everyone?" I breathed, feeling my flesh hard against the cold ice. "Where's Ivy? Where's the fire department? Where's my phone?" I giggled as I remembered it was at the bottom of the river with my purse, then sobered as I thought of the unconscious people drifting downward through the icy water in their best finery to join it. Hell, I'd kiss even Denon, my old, despised boss from the I.S., if he showed up.

That reminded me. "Jonathan," I whispered. "Oh, Jo-o-oo-onathan," I sang. "Where are you? Come out, come out, wherever you are—you tall freak of nature."

I lifted my head, glad I was pointed in the right direction. Squinting past my stringy hair, I could see a light where the limo sat. The headlights were aimed at the river, shining to show the destruction and the sinking bits of boat. Jonathan's silhouette stood at the quay. I could tell it was him because he was the only person I knew who was that tall. He was looking the wrong way. He'd never see me, and I couldn't shout anymore.

Damn it. I was going to have to get up.

I tried. I really did. But my legs wouldn't work and my arms just lay there, ignoring me. Besides, the ice was warm, and I didn't want to get up. Maybe if I shouted he'd hear me.

I took a breath. "Jonathan," I whispered. Oh hell, this wasn't going to work.

I took another breath. "Jonathan," I said, hearing it around my ringing ears. I pulled my head up, watching as he didn't move to look. "Never mind," I said, letting my head fall back onto the ice. The snow was warm, and I pressed into it. "This is nice," I mumbled, but I don't think it made it past my thoughts into real words.

It felt as if the world was spinning, and I could hear the slosh of water. Snuggling into the ice, I smiled. I hadn't slept well for days. I exhaled, drifting off into nothing, enjoying the warmth of the sun that was suddenly shining on the ice. Someone curled their arms around me, and I felt my head thump into a soggy chest as I was lifted.

"Denon?" I heard myself murmur. "Come here, Denon. I owe you a big…kiss…"

"Denon?" someone echoed.

"I'll carry her, Sa'han."

I tried to open my eyes, swirling back into nothing when I felt myself move. I drowsed, not awake but not quite not asleep. Then I was still, and I tried to smile and go to sleep. But a faint pinch and throb kept intruding on my cheek, and my legs hurt.

Irritated, I pushed at the ice, finding it was gone. I was sitting up, and someone was slapping me. "That's enough," I heard Trent say. "You're going to leave a mark."

The pinch vanished to leave just the throbbing. Jonathan was slapping me? "Hey, you freakin' bastard," I breathed. "You hit me again and I'll take care of your family planning."

I could smell leather. My face screwed up as feeling started to come back into my legs and arms. Oh God, it hurt. I opened my eyes to find Trent and Jonathan peering down at me. Blood seeped from Trent's hairline and water dripped from his nose. Above their heads was the interior of the limo. I was alive? How did I get to the car?

" 'Bout time you found us," I breathed, my eyes closing.

I heard Trent sigh. "She's okay."

I suppose. Maybe. Compared to being dead, I guess I was okay.

"Pity," Jonathan said, and I heard him shift away from me. "It would have simplified things if she wasn't. Not too late to slip her in the water with the rest."

"Jon!" Trent barked.

His voice was as hot as my skin felt. I was freaking burning up.

"She saved my life," Trent said softly. "I don't care if you like her or not, but she has earned your respect."

"Trenton—" Jonathan started.

"No." It was cold. "She has earned your respect."

There was a hesitation, and I would have drifted off to nothing if the pain in my legs would let me. And my fingers were on fire. "Yes, Sa'han," Jonathan said, and I jerked awake.

"Get us home. Call ahead and have Quen draw a bath for her. We have to get her warmer than this."

"Yes, Sa'han." It was slow and reluctant. "The I.S. is here. Why don't we leave her with them?"

I felt a small pull upon my chi as Trent tapped a line. "I don't want to be seen here. Just don't get in anyone's way and we won't be noticed. Hurry up."

My eyes wouldn't listen to me anymore, but I heard Jonathan get out and shut the door. There was another thump when he got in the driver's door and the car eased into motion. The arms around me tightened, and I realized I was in Trent's lap, the warmth of his body doing more than the air to warm me. I felt the softness of a blanket against me. I must have been swaddled up right tight; I couldn't move my legs or arms.

"I'm sorry," I murmured, giving up on trying to open my eyes. "I'm getting water all over your suit." Then I giggled, thinking that had sounded really pathetic. He was already soaked. "Your Celtic charm isn't worth a damn," I whispered. "I hope you kept your receipt."

"Shut up, Morgan," Trent said, his voice distant and preoccupied.

The car picked up speed, and the sound seemed to lull me. I could relax, I thought as I felt the tingling of circulation in my limbs. I was in Trent's car, wrapped in a blanket, and held in his arms. He wouldn't let anything hurt me.

He wasn't singing, though, I mused. Shouldn't he be singing?

Twenty-seven

The warm water I was sitting in was nice. I had been in it long enough to prune twice, but I didn't care. Ellasbeth's sunken tub was fab. I sighed, leaning my head back and staring at the ten-foot ceilings framed by the potted orchids lining the bathtub. Maybe there was something to this drug lord business if you got to have a tub like this. I'd been in it for over an hour.

Trent had called Ivy for me even before we reached the city's limits. I'd talked to her myself not too long ago, telling her I was okay and was soaking in warm water and wasn't getting out until hell froze over. She had hung up on me, but I knew we were okay.

Dragging my fingers through the bubbles, I adjusted Trent's borrowed pain amulet hanging about my neck. I didn't know who had invoked it; maybe his secretary? All my charms were at the bottom of the Ohio River. My smile faltered as I remembered the people I hadn't been able to save. I would not feel guilty that I breathed and they didn't. Their deaths were laid at Saladan's feet, not mine. Or maybe Kisten's. Damn it. What was I going to do about that?

I closed my eyes and said a prayer for them, but they jerked open when a faint cadence of brisk steps grew louder. They quickly grew closer, and I froze as a thin woman dressed smartly in a cream-colored suit clacked and clicked in over the bathroom tile unannounced. There was a depart ment store bag over her arm. Her steely gaze was fixed on the doorway to the changing room, and she never saw me as she vanished into it.