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A nightmare held Tom in its grip. The knife came down, striking him in the thigh, and he fell onto the hard floor. Moira called out for him. He struggled to keep her back, struggled to keep her safe.
“Moira,” he murmured.
From a distance, a familiar voice said, “She’s coming, Tom. Rest now.”
He slid back into the fevered dream. The knife came down. He hit the floor. Moira’s sweet voice called to him. Knife. Floor. Moira. Knife, floor...
Count your way down.
The dream shifted abruptly. Another woman knelt over him, her cold eyes drilling into his. Count your way down. Remember that.
He glanced down, expecting to see a knife buried deep in his leg, but it was gone. Begni’s letter was in his hand. Moira took it from him and read it, her wide mouth tilted into a smile. I sometimes forget ye’re not of the People, Tom. The Bones of the Just shall forever lie in sacred slumber. Why hadn’t Rue translated all of it?
This isn’t the one you need anyway.
The thought broke into the dream, cutting it short. Tom fought his way to awareness through hazy layers of pain and fatigue, and opened his eyes. The room was darkened by curtains pulled over the windows. He glanced toward them. Pain stabbed through his head and he winced. God above, his head hurt. What the hell had he done to it?
A gentle hand captured his. “You’re awake.”
Tom grunted. “Not...” His voice croaked out, barely escaping his dry mouth. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Not really.”
“How do you feel?”
“Run over by a train.”
“You lost a lot of blood.”
“Moira?”
“Did Moira stab you? No, darling. She’s out hunting down the woman who did this to you.”
He sighed and rolled his head carefully toward the voice. “Good.”
Rebecca leaned into his line of sight and came into focus. “I told her you’d say that. She seemed to think you’d disagree with her enacting vengeance.”
“Not...” This time, he wanted to say, but his parched throat had finally had enough. “Water,” he whispered, and gratefully sipped it through the straw Rebecca pressed to his lips. It slipped down his throat, soothing the scratchiness.
“Rest now. Save your strength. Moira will be back soon. By the Lady, you’ll need every bit of it to deal with her.”
Tom shook his head and immediately regretted it as a throbbing pain crashed through his temples. “Begni’s letter. Ruanna. Need them.”
“That can wait...”
“No. Need them.”
Rebecca’s hand tightened on his. “All right. I’ll arrange for the letter and Ruanna to be here, but only if you promise to rest now.”
“Will,” he managed, and slumped into the mattress. “Need Moira.”
“I know, darling. She’ll be here soon.”
Tom drifted off, barely aware of Rebecca’s quietly placed phone calls or the nurse coming in and adjusting the drip of his IV. Moira had been right all along, though not in the way she’d thought. The answer had been under their noses the whole time and now he had the key to unlocking it.
* * *
Moira dropped by Tom’s apartment, showered, and changed into clean clothes on her way to the hospital. She’d done what she had to, but that didn’t mean she wanted him to see her spattered with blood. He’d worry and he’d fuss, and he was too weak for either.
She texted her mother with a quick deed done. And good riddance, though Rebecca might be none too happy Moira had let the other members of the Order go. Ah, well. That wasn’t her job. If Rebecca wanted them tracked, she most certainly knew how to do it.
Moira secured the apartment, then slipped quickly into her car and started it. She allowed herself to dwell on what she should’ve considered when Rebecca told her where to find Vivien. How had her mother come by that information?
She mulled it over during the short drive between the IECS campus and the county hospital. As the director of the IECS and the unofficial head of the People’s efforts to protect their settlements in the US, Rebecca was privy to information ordinary Daughters weren’t. Still, knowing the location of a rogue element like the Order and not doing anything to stop them? That didn’t quite strike true. Moira shrugged one shoulder and turned into the hospital’s parking lot. As she always had, she’d trust her mother knew what she was doing and worry about keeping her own family in order.
The hospital was quiet in the pre-dawn dark. Moira jiggled the lock on a side entrance and snuck past the nurses on duty. Visitors weren’t allowed to come and go at night, though that had never stopped the People from seeing to their injured kin.
When she slipped into Tom’s room, Rebecca was seated in a chair at his bedside, her gaze fixed on him. She looked up and smiled as Moira quietly shut the door. “There you are.”
“Sorry I took so long. Me clothes weren’t fit to wear once I was done.”
“She’s dead, then.”
Moira nodded and ran her palms down her thighs over the clean jeans she’d changed into. “Vivien Long will never bother another again, though I let the other members of the Order go in exchange for her.”
Rebecca’s blue eyes glittered. “They can be found again, when the time is right.”
“Good, then. How is he?”
“Resting. He woke an hour ago and demanded to see Begni’s letter and Ruanna.”
Moira’s eyebrows shot up. “Did he, now.”
“It could be the sedatives talking, but I’m taking no chances. Ruanna and James will be here by noon along with a copy of the letter.” Rebecca rose into a full body stretch. “He asked for you.”
Moira’s gaze drifted to the even rise and fall of Tom’s chest, to the peaceful expression on his thin face. “Ye told him I’d return soon?”
“I did, and now, I’m leaving guard duty to you.” Rebecca brushed a kiss over Moira’s cheek. “I’ll be back after breakfast. Call if you need me.”
“I will.” Moira turned and followed her mother’s progress toward the door. “Thank ye for watching over him.”
Rebecca smiled faintly. “He’s soon to be my son. How could I not guard him as such?”
She left as quietly as Moira had entered. Moira dropped into the chair her mother had vacated and gathered his fingers between her two hands, stroking warmth into them. He was safe now. No matter what happened, he’d always be safe. She scooted the chair closer to his bed and rested her head in the crook of her arm. A little rest, now that she’d done what she could to protect him, and on the morrow, she’d care for him as a woman cared for the man she loved.
His fingers wiggled in her hand, jerking her awake. She glanced at the light filtering through the curtains, then at her watch. She must’ve dozed, though she could’ve sworn she hadn’t.
It was gonna be a long pregnancy.
Tom shifted on the bed. A low groan grunted out of him. “Moira?”
She stood and smoothed a hand over his forehead. “I’m here, love.”
“Missed you.” He mmmd and turned his head toward her, blinking up at her with clear, brown-green eyes. “I really have to pee.”
She snorted out a laugh and dropped her forehead to his. “Sweet Thomas. Let me get a nurse.”
“Mm-unh. If a woman has to see my naked penis, it’s gonna be you.” He levered himself up onto an elbow and grimaced. “Groggy.”
“Let me help, ye stubborn man.”
She hitched his arm over her shoulder and aided him to the bathroom and back, urging him into slow, careful steps, taking as much of his weight as she could. After, he dropped onto the narrow hospital bed with a tired sigh. “That really hurt, but God, I feel so much better.”
“Ye should’ve let me get the nurse.”
“What you can do is climb up here with me.”
“Are ye feckin’ crazy? Ye’ve a near mortal wound, Tom. The last thing ye need is a woman curled up next to ye.”
He leveled a determined stare at her. “I will always need you near. Now, either climb up here with me or I’m crawling into the chair with you.”
“Tom...”
“Moira,” he countered evenly. He scooted carefully to the edge of the bed and held his arm out. “We need to talk before Nurse Ratched comes in and ups the meds in my IV.”
She stared down at him, torn between exasperation and need, and finally gave in. What would it hurt to lay next to him for a few minutes? As soon as he was out, she’d take the chair again and he’d be none the wiser. She eased onto the bed and stretched out beside him, her legs straight, her head on his chest.
He curved his arm around her shoulders and brushed his face against the top of her head. “I love you.”
Though he’d said it earlier, she couldn’t quiet believe it. Rather than hurt him with a denial, she held her tongue.
“I know you care for me,” he continued. “I know you still want to claim me, but this changes everything, sweetheart. Lying there in the hallway with that knife stuck in my leg? I thought I was dying. I thought I’d never see you again, never get to hold you. Never get to know the baby, if there is one, and it was the most awful feeling.”
“Hush now, Tom. Ye need yer rest.”
“Not until I get this out.” He shifted beneath her and rubbed a slow hand over her arm. “I knew I loved you the night you went after her. I should’ve told you then and I was too much of a coward. I’m telling you now, though, and I’m telling you something else, too. I’m never letting you go. I don’t care if you never grow old. I don’t care if you never submit and become mortal. You’re stuck with me. We’re getting married and you’re living with me and you’re helping me raise the baby.” He yawned and when he spoke again, his words slurred together. “You set the terms when we became lovers. I’m changing the rules now, and you’re gonna follow them whether you like it or not.”
A hint of amusement curled through her. “Is that so? And I’ve no say in the matter?”
“None a’tall,” he murmured. “Now say it so I can go to sleep.”
“Say what?”
“Say you’ll never leave me.”
“Oh, Tom.” She raised up and pressed a gentle kiss to him mouth. “I never could.”
“Good.” His breaths evened out and his arm loosened around her. “Love you.”
“I love you, too,” she whispered. She closed her eyes and settled down beside him, her heart lighter than it had been in ages. He loved her and, contrary to every logical reason he had not to, he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her. She’d marry him, just as he’d said. She’d live with him and do as he asked because she loved him and trusting his judgment was all she could give him, all she could do until...
A sharp pain stabbed into the base of her skull. She hissed in a breath as the pain sparked outward, seeping rapidly into every nerve in her body. A shiver washed over her, and another, becoming a hard shudder. She rolled away from Tom and off the edge of the narrow bed, falling to the floor in a crashing heap. His voice, low and urgent, came from far above her, so far away. She lay on the floor as the pain ebbed and rebounded and her consciousness receded, her last thought a prayer of gratitude to the Lady Goddess that She had finally given Moira someone to love.
