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I woke up to white sheets and sunlight streaming through an east facing window. By the angle, I figured it was early, maybe an hour past dawn.
As the room slowly brightened, I could make out a small dresser near the door and a student desk next to it. Close by the bed, a man sat slumped in a chair, bandages around his head, and his arm in a sling.
"Cole?" I asked.
He jerked, coming awake with the suddenness peculiar to those who fear they are running out of time. He reached out to touch my hand, then snatched it back. "Char? You're awake?"
I grinned at him. "Either that or I'm having a really odd dream. Where are we?"
Relief washed over him, blanking his expression for a moment. He reached for my hand again, taking it gently in his and kissing the back. "The country school. It isn't finished, but the student rooms are habitable, and that's where we are."
His words stirred a memory and I frowned, struggling to bring it to mind. "The second school Ryleigh and Imogen are building? I thought it was months from completion?"
"The kitchen and common areas aren't done yet, so we're kind of half-camping out." He looked up at me, eyes tracing the contours of my face. "I thought I'd lost you, Char. How are you feeling?"
I checked in with my body, shocked at how good I felt. The memory of Drakat's torture flooded in, and my heart pounded. I didn't hurt, and the horrible fatigue faded into normal tiredness, but I was going to be scarred from head to foot.
Wasn't I?
I eased my hand out of Cole's light grip and lifted both arms into the light, blinking. Nothing. Not a single scar, except the one on my wrist I'd gotten when I fell off my bike at age ten. Even better, both hands worked.
Mouth dry, I flung back the covers.
"Easy," Cole said. "It's OK."
My legs were smooth and unblemished. It was like the hours in Drakat's tower never happened.
I stared at Cole, uncomprehending. "How..."
"Boros. He reversed your body a day, enough to undo the damage Drakat caused. You lost so much blood... You almost died, Char."
"But I remember everything. Drakat is still dead, right?"
A sick look crossed his features. "She is." He looked up at me through a fringe of dark hair, his gray eyes serious. "And I don't regret that, but watching her die that way was..."
"Rough," I said, completing the statement. "But I still don't understand how I remember it all, but my body is back to my yesterday self."
He cleared his throat, sitting back as if bracing himself. "Three-days-ago self."
"What?"
"Boros took your body back twelve hours, but that was three days ago."
I swung my legs off the bed and shot to my feet, swaying as a wave of vertigo spun through me. My knees gave way, and I dropped onto the bed, making the springs squeak. "I've been asleep for three days?" My stomach growled, and I laid my hand across it. No wonder I was starving.
"You had a lot to recover from. Even though going back undid the damage, your body remembers the trauma because your mind does. Boros could have taken you back, 'body and soul' as he explained it, but you'd have lost your memory of that day."
My attempt to stand exhausted me, and I laid back on the bed, welcoming the soft feel of the pillow under my head. "That's really weird."
"No argument here."
A memory hit me of Sasha laying crumpled against the wall, and I sat up again, head swimming with the sudden movement. "Sasha? Is he OK?"
I am well.
I turned my head too fast and spots filled my vision, clearing slowly as I closed my eyes to just breathe for a moment. When I opened them, my first glimpse was confirmed. Doirsain and Sasha lay on the bedside table. The wyvern's head lifted to look at me.
It takes more than a rap on the head to kill a wyvern, he said.
"Where are Boros and Caraigama now?" I asked. The closer they got to Boros saving me, the hazier my memories became. I was missing something.
My heart thumped with anxiety. If Drakat was dead, then she wasn't a threat. But as long as Caraigama remained unbound, there was the risk that someone else would try to claim them. Of course, that risk remained, no matter what.
When they fought Drakat to save Ryleigh, it bound them to her. Sasha's answer sounded in my mind, and from Cole's twitch, I knew we'd both heard him.
"Then Ryleigh and Imogen are still in danger," I said, anxiety flickering inside me.
Drakat is dead, as are most of the imps in her employ, Brulg included. Boros sent the survivor's minds back in time to a point before they knew Caraigama existed, effectively erasing their memory of the stone. They are very confused, but overall, happy to be free of Drakat's service.
Relief flooded through me. "What about the others?"
"Nate has a broken arm, but he'll mend. Imogen and Ryleigh both have some cuts and bruises, but they are fine otherwise," Cole said.
"Georgina? And did I see Grag there?"
Cole laughed ruefully. "The girl is a wonder. Killed Brulg, then took on three imps to keep them off Nate when he fell, and came out without a scratch." He went on to explain why Grag was there and how he came to be unconscious. "He definitely earned his pay, and a concussion from Brulg to go with it. But he'll be all right."
“We can’t just let him wander off,” I said. “He knows about the stones. All of them.”
“Ryleigh fixed that.”
Bemused, I waited for him to go on. When he shifted uneasily, but didn’t speak, I cocked an eyebrow. “Well?”
“She, uh, gave him a charm. As long as he keeps his mouth shut, it will provide him enough luck to keep him comfortable. Put that together with the wand he got in payment, and I’d be very surprised if he wasn’t a count or something within a year.”
“Are you both crazy? He’s an imp. No moral compass, no scruples except his own greed and selfishness. And you handed him the keys to Belfast.”
“We wouldn’t have gotten to you in time without him.”
“Maybe not, but –”
“If he talks, the charm dies. He’s too greedy to open his mouth with that on the line. Besides, I’d have paid the devil himself to keep you safe.” With an air of uncompromising finality, he sat back, wincing as his arm touched on the chair.
I thought it over. Cole was probably right. Grag’s own self-interest ought to keep him quiet. And if it didn’t? Well, that was a problem for another day.
"What about you?" I asked softly. Cole’s bandages told the outline of a story, but I wanted the details.
"What? This?" He gestured to his head and arm. "It's nothing. Just a cut and a sprain. Give me a week and I'll be back designing handbags and lingerie."
"I'm so sorry I got you into this. I should have come alone."
His anger surprised me. "And you'd be dead. No one stands against a demon alone. I should never have let you go to that pub by yourself."
"I wasn't by myself." Heat flashed up from my core, warming my cheeks. "And you don't 'let' me do anything. I make my own decisions."
His jaw tightened and a flash of memory hit me. Drakat standing over me, her knife red and dripping. The pain of each cut searing through me as my life trickled to the floor in thin, red streams.
My irritation died. "But you're right," I said. "If you hadn't come after me, I wouldn't have made it. So, thank you."
He wound his fingers around my hand, squeezing lightly. I was glad when he didn't let go.
"So," he said. "What is next?"
I smiled at him. "Next? We go home."
THE FLIGHT BACK TO the States was long but uneventful. I slept through most of it, still tired from dealing with a demon.
We got off the plane in Jacksonville and found Lena and her boyfriend waiting for us in the baggage claim.
I eyed the young man, wondering what it was about him that bothered me so much. Might be the simple fact that he was dating my little sister, but as I watched him with her, I didn't think that was it. There was something... avaricious in his eyes when he looked at her.
Neala was right. I needed to look into his past. Maybe I'd ask her to look in on his relatives in the Summerlands.
I'd already talked to Zel. She was still under a court order restricting her movements, but I was fairly sure I'd be able to get that lifted soon. Once I did, she was planning a trip to visit her daughter. But our conversation had gone beyond the personal, and I frowned as I recalled it.
"There is one other thing," Zel said.
I sighed. "I'm still not interested in joining the coven, Zel. That isn't going to change."
"Yes, yes, I know. Though if you're going to keep fighting demons and other sundry bad guys, you could use the backup a coven provides."
Yeah, and I could get them all killed. No thanks. I have enough trouble keeping my family alive. Besides, my demon fighting days are freaking OVER.
Zel was still talking, and I tuned back in.
"... that as it may, there is someone I want you to meet. He has a somewhat... unique problem that I think you might be able to help him with."
My steps grew lighter. Another client? That would help keep the lights on, if nothing else. Then I slowed down. "A legal problem? Because I'm a lawyer, Zel. Not a PI."
"But you did such an excellent job saving Ryleigh and Imogen—"
"I only took the job because you and Ryleigh are like family. It was a one-off." Pride licked at me, and I shoved it aside. So, what if I'd won this time? I'd almost gotten killed doing it, and I'd nearly taken Cole and Sasha with me. No way was I wading into someone else's mess again. "If this guy wants me to get the goods on his wife, or rescue his daughter from a cult or whatever, that is not my bag."
"Just meet him. Hear him out, then make your decision." Zel's voice had gone up a note in pitch, hinting at desperation. What kind of 'unique problem' could make the normally unflappable Zelmara O'Connor desperate? Had this guy's daughter really been kidnapped by a cult?
Interest struck through me, despite my best intentions. "All right. I'll meet with him. But as a lawyer, not a PI."
"Thank you." I heard her sigh of relief, and unease sifted through me. "I'll set up a meeting. We'll talk soon." She hung up before I could respond.
I was going to regret this. I just knew it.
