Camille was at the table, looking dry and fresh, and Delilah was beside her, along with Smoky. Iris, the house sprite who lived with them, brought over a plate of bacon, eggs, and toast. She set it in front of me, then patted my shoulder as I slid into a chair.
“Has the hospital called? Is Mitch still…?” My voice faltered. I couldn’t say the words. I couldn’t ask if he was still alive because I was afraid of the answer.
Iris nodded, her cheeks rosy from standing over the range. No doubt she’d used my step stool to reach the stovetop. “Yes, he’s still alive. They performed the exploratory surgery yesterday. Good news—the medic says they won’t have to remove the spleen after all. It was damaged, but should recover. His kidneys are bruised but will also recover.”
“What about his arm? It was shattered.”
“They went in early this morning. He should be out of surgery in an hour. He’s going to need time to heal up, though. He’ll be in the hospital for a while—a couple weeks at least.”
I pressed my hands to my lips. Two surgeries in two days. Two too many. “Terrance is going to pay for this.”
“By the way, we took you to the FH-CSI medical unit last night. You and your baby are fine, so no worries there.” Camille leaned over my shoulder and gave me a hug. “We decided not to wake you out of the trance that Menolly put you in. You were in shock and desperately needed rest. Sharah says the baby is fine, and she countered the waterweed in your system. It really shouldn’t be used by pregnant women, but she doesn’t think any damage was done.”
I blinked back tears. “Thank you,” I whispered, not wanting to think about the past twenty-four hours. “What about Terrance?”
“He and his men are still out there,” Smoky said from the head of the table. “I had to drop him for fear he might hurt you.”
“Is it true? Camille told us that Terrance claims you’re heir to a throne?” Delilah asked.
I shrugged. “I suppose so. I don’t think Terrance would have bothered chasing me through all these years and over all those miles without some ulterior motive like that. He’s always been a control freak, grasping for power. And I’m the key to that power.”
A sudden chill washed over me. “If we don’t find him, I’ll never be able to stop looking over my shoulder. My daughter will be in danger; Mitch will be in danger, because Terrance will never, ever stop. He’ll come back, again and again, until I kill him or he kills me. I won’t let him take me back as the key to enslave my mother’s people.”
The eggs and toast were threatening to pay a return visit, but Camille brushed my hair back and gently ran her hand over my forehead, and my nausea began to subside. Her skin was cool against the heat flaring on my face.
“Everything will be okay.” She gently rubbed my neck, easing the knots that had built up. “We’re here to help. We won’t let him hurt you.”
I glanced up in time to see Delilah frown at her.
“I won’t hold you to that. I won’t hold anybody to a promise like that. But I thank you. For being here. For putting yourselves on the line. So…” I sucked in a deep breath and slowly exhaled. Time to pull myself out of the mire and face reality. “What do we—I—do next?”
“Terrance isn’t stupid. What’s the one way he could break your spirit, besides harming your daughter?” Smoky leaned across the table, and gently took my hand, his fingers light on my wrist. I stared at his hands. They were strong but unblemished, so far from the taloned claws they’d been the night before, and yet—and yet I could feel the nature of the dragon emanating from every pore.
“I say this not to frighten you,” he continued, “but because I understand opportunistic males. I understand those who grasp and yearn for something or someone they do not possess. I grew up around them. If we can identify your vulnerabilities, then we’ve identified the potential targets on whom your enemy will set his sights.”
I slowly raised my eyes to meet his. “You know what my one vulnerability is, besides my child. Mitch. Mitch is my life, my love. I fell in love with him the first moment I met him, and when we thought the Pod would separate us because I couldn’t bear a child, I was about to go mad with grief. He means the world to me. I chose him for my mate, and I can’t imagine giving him up without a fight.”
“Then we haul ass to the hospital,” Camille said as Smoky quietly nodded and let go of my hands. “Because you know damned well Terrance is going to be down there, looking to finish what he started. He’s not going to wait for us.”
As I hustled back to the bedroom to change and make a quick call to work to let them know that Mitch had been hurt and I wouldn’t be in, I stopped to pick up a picture on the nightstand.
Mitch and me, standing at the edge of the Pacific over in Ocean Shores. The dunes were shifting with the wind that day as the waves rolled in to crash along the beach. That was the day when everything fell into place. That was the day when I told him we could finally plan on being together forever.
Mitch was flying a kite, laughing as he ran. The kite—a chimera—had taken him four weeks to build and now the winds tossed it around like so much wrapping paper. But he was having fun, and I was videotaping him, waiting for just the right moment to tell him my news.
He came racing up to me, and dropped in the sand, slowly beginning to reel in the kite as the stiff breeze dropped and the sun began to warm up the chilled air. I opened the basket and spread out our picnic—thick tuna sandwiches, freshly sliced cucumbers, potato chips and pickles, and a cherry pie.
“What, no wine?” Mitch anchored the kite so it wouldn’t blow away. He leaned back in the sand, shading his eyes as he stared out at the ocean. “Shall we go swimming later?” He pointed to his pack. “I brought my suit; did you bring yours?”
I nodded softly and handed him a paper plate with one of the sandwiches on it. “Yes, as long as nobody sees us change. But eat first. And no, I didn’t bring any wine. I did bring sparkling cider. I just felt… I don’t feel like alcohol right now, you know?”
With a shrug, he accepted the plate and piled it high with chips and cucumbers. “Not a problem. But you brought cookies, right?”
The hopeful note in his voice made me laugh. Mitch was a sucker for anything with peanut butter. “Yes, I brought some fresh peanut butter cookies along with the pie. They’re in the cooler.”
We ate slowly, listening to the mournful call of the gulls as they swirled around our heads. Seabirds knew we weren’t human; they could sense our connection to the Ocean Mother and they flocked to our side, waiting for us to recognize them as allies, as compatriots. I’d never figured out the connection, but it didn’t matter. We liked the gulls and they liked us.
I pulled out a spare loaf of bread and began tearing it up, tossing the chunks to the birds, who immediately swarmed the crumbs, ignoring all sense of propriety.
Mitch laughed and sat up. “They sure like people.” “No, they like food,” I said, closing my eyes against the warmth of the sun as it played along my face, kissing me softly with its rays. “Mitch, I have some news—and I want you to really listen to me.”
He dropped the book he’d picked up and turned to me, wrapping his arms around his knees as he brought them to his chest. “What is it, love?”
I took a deep breath. This was it. Make or break time. “You know how the Pod keeps trying to break us up since I can’t get pregnant?”
“Oh gods,” he said, groaning. “Not again—what have they done now?”
With a soft smile, I said, “Nothing.”