“Girl, what in God’s name do you think you’re doing?”
“I can take it, Millie! Jude can’t!”
My voice broke, but I didn’t care. This was just the cherry on top of the sundae of suck that had started the minute Christopher and I had had to leave the concert. Bad enough that had happened, worse that it’d been all for the Unseelie who’d caused us so much trouble before.
But now, Jude threatened?
Not happening. Not if I could help it.
I joined my magic to that of the Warders, and between us, we dove headlong into the life energy that was Jude Lawrence, looking for any trace of the invader. Visually there was nothing to see, just the subliminal haze that was power in a fully lit room, and Jude lying unconscious before us all. Magically, I could feel exactly what Jake had described. Her heart still beat without faltering. Her blood still flowed, full of vital health. But her nerves were overloaded, firing off with far too many impulses for one person’s body to contain, and that was the only physical sign I could find that anything was wrong with her at all. The sense of hollowness I’d felt from Elessir—and the cold hunger of the thing when it’d reared up out of him and turned its head to me—was nowhere to be found.
Then her heart rate practically doubled, revved up by the combined rush of my power, Christopher’s, and Millicent’s, and Jake snapped out in urgent tones, “Stop it, all of you! You’re too much for her!”
Millie retreated instantly, whipping her hands and her magic back at the same time. Christopher, not nearly as practiced as she, pulled back with less grace. I didn’t back off at all until Carson grabbed my shoulders and pulled me backwards, not hard, but with an insistence that would not be denied. “You heard Jake, kiddo. Give her some space. Let her breathe.”
“What’s wrong with her?” I shouted. “Didn’t you see it? Didn’t you see it get her?”
“I saw it.” Which of course was no surprise—Carson was the partner of a kitsune, after all, and had been seeing strange things while I’d still worn my hair in pigtails—but I needed the reminder nonetheless.
“Millie, what in God’s name was it?” Christopher asked.
Slowly, with reluctance, the aura of magic in the room began to ebb. Millicent rolled back onto her heels and then hauled herself to her feet, stiffly enough that it actually showed her age. With a stab of extra guilt I included her in my overall worry. She looked mortally offended, but she also looked worn out, not to mention old. What had she just done in my bedroom, and how much had it taken out of her? She drew in a deep breath and then huffed it out again.
“Damned if I know, boy. I haven’t felt anything like it in all my days. Best I could tell is that it felt like it might have been Sidhe—once.”
What it was didn’t seem nearly as vital to me as finding it and yanking it out of Jude, if it was still inside her. I opened my mouth to say so. But then Jude stirred, just as Jake was trying to lever her up off the floor. Every one of us snapped our eyes back to her.
“Jesus,” she mumbled. “What… what just happened?”
“Chica, how are you feeling?” I pulled forward from Carson’s grasp and forced myself not to crowd her.
“A little dizzy. Did I fall down?”
“You did,” Jake informed her, in that firmly earnest tone he always used when he was in EMT mode. “Do you feel anything else wrong? Do you remember the date? What you were doing?”
“It’s Saturday… October…” She trailed off on the actual date, but that was close enough for Jake and me alike. “I’m… I’m on Kendis’ floor.”
“Do you know what you were doing just now?” Jake pressed.
Jude opened her mouth, closed it, and then finally shook her head, color draining from her face. “Last thing I remember, Millie, Christopher and Ken were all going in her room.”
Stricken, I glanced round at the others. Carson and Christopher looked ill at ease, but they were watching Jake and Millicent for cues—and it was Millicent who finally proclaimed, patting Jude’s dark hair, “It’s okay, honey, you might have just clonked your head a bit. I don’t think she should be driving anywhere, Jake, do you?”
“Absolutely not. Carson, help me get her to the couch.”
My housemates helped Jude upright slowly, in stages. I arranged the cushions and pillows so the boys could lay her down as comfortably as possible, and then I edged back out of the way. “What’re we going to do, Millie?” I murmured sidelong to her, nodding in trepidation back towards my bedroom door. “I mean, about…?”
“He’s asleep. Fainted right after—” Millicent caught herself, scowled all over again, and shrugged. “Well, after. We’ll deal with him, but not right now.” More loudly, she appended, “Jake, is she okay or what?”
“I’m fine,” Jude warbled.
Jake met Millie’s eyes, and I needed no words to read the look that passed between them—or to guess that my housemate couldn’t answer the question she was really asking, not while Jude could hear. “As far as I can tell she’s all right, no worse than if she’d just gotten up too fast,” he said cautiously. “I’d like to keep an eye on her though.”
“But I need to go home—”
“No.” I stepped back to the couch. “No. Please, babe. Rest here tonight. We’ll all feel better if you do.”
“She can have our hide-a-bed,” Carson offered. “Since, ah, Kendis may be needing her couch.”
Jude’s brow crinkled. “Why can’t she… oh.” She glanced towards my bedroom, recollection sparking in her eyes, which gave me a modicum of relief. “Right. Can I at least wash my face and stuff?”
“I have a big T-shirt you can sleep in,” I said, turning to the hallway and then pausing again to ask Millie, “Um. Can I?” Translation: was it safe to set foot into my own bedroom?
“It should be okay, girlie. But don’t linger.”
Gratefully I bobbed my head at her and crept back down the hall. Christopher came after me, and I took his hand, consoled by his presence. No telltale power met us at my bedroom door. Everything seemed at peace, and Fort had even retreated ahead of us into the room in his kitty bid to escape the excitement in the living room. He stood watch on the bed now, fur less puffed and tail less agitated, though his gaze was no less baleful as he stared at Elessir’s unmoving form.
The Unseelie was indeed asleep, more peacefully than before. He still looked like reconstituted hell, with eyes so ringed by shadow they seemed practically bruised, yet his face had lost a certain subtle strain and more color had stolen into his cheeks.
“He looks a little better,” I murmured.
“If that thing’s gotten out of him, that’s probably why.”
Despite his ominous tone I couldn’t argue with Christopher, since I was right there with him on that particular train of thought. As I entered the room, worry churned in my belly at the notion of Jude looking similarly stricken. The Sidhe on my bed didn’t stir, not even when I reached my dresser and yanked open a drawer to fetch a couple of oversized T-shirts for Jude and me. Everything in the drawer was richly, brightly hued, even garments I’d bought years ago, and smelled of lavender and roses—I hadn’t had to do a single load of laundry since the brownies had moved in and started repairing everything I owned. Right then, the smell gave me no consolation. I set my jaw and blinked rapidly, trying to clear my sight, but moisture prickled anyway at my eyes.
Christopher stopped me at the door, once more grasping my shoulders. “She may be okay,” he said, very softly. “We’ll take care of it, you and Millie and I.” Then his gaze dropped to the shirts I held, and to my surprise, a hint of red darkened his cheeks.
“What?”
“I’m just thinking, lass… I haven’t seen what you sleep in before now.”
It was true. Whether it was because he was a Warder, from Newfoundland, or simply just Christopher I wasn’t quite sure, but for a young man of our day and age, he was very old-school in his relationship with me. He’d spent many of his waking hours with
me in the last two months, sure—but none of his sleeping ones, not since those first few nights after we’d met. Whenever the hour had grown too late, he’d always headed back to his little boarding house room in the U-district despite my dropping hints that he was more than welcome to warm my bed any time he wanted. In fact, I’d planned on dropping another one of those hints after the concert.
“Well, looks like you get to see what I sleep in tonight, big guy. Not that it’s much different than what you usually see me in.” I plucked at one of the shirts, a tie-dyed thing two sizes too big for me, which I’d picked up from the local farmers’ market. “And, ah… we’ll need to figure out where you’ll sleep too.”
Christopher brightened for the first time since we’d bailed on the show, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. “That couch of yours has served us well enough before,” he rumbled. Then he sobered. “But I’d best not sleep yet. Millie’s tired. One of us should be awake in case something else happens.”
His meaningful look in the direction of my bed signified his opinion on the likely source of any further trouble well enough. I had to admit he had a point. “Can you handle staying awake awhile?” My worry, not content with the targets it had already had this evening, whirled right back around to latch on to him.
“The city can sustain me for a little while if need be.” Christopher lifted a hand to my cheek. “But you should sleep if you can. It’s getting late.”
“I’d rather stay up with you.”
A broader smile warmed Christopher’s face at that, and he leaned in to brush a kiss along my brow and lips. “Then keep me company, Kenna-lass,” he whispered, “and play me sweet airs on your fiddle.”
It would have taken much more than that to bring us back to the giddy cheer of only a few hours ago. That lilting rasp, though, did much to soothe my agitation. I hugged him close and breathed in his scent, sharp and alive, still laced with the adrenaline of the show and everything else that had come after. I felt his heart beating at the core of him, a steady, ceaseless rhythm that even now picked up a bit at our embrace. And his magic, the rich and living magic that bound him to the city in which we lived—that bound him to me—wrapped around me with a warmth as palpable as his arms.
I couldn’t have asked for better comfort. Hoping to return it in kind, I pulled his head down and kissed him for several long moments; then, regretfully, I pulled back and looked up into his eyes. “I will,” I promised. “Come on. The others are waiting.”
There wasn’t much to do after that, all told. I turned off the light in my bedroom and almost pulled the door shut, but changed my mind as I realized that we’d need to be able to hear if Elessir awoke. One small sympathetic part of me wondered too if it would disturb him to waken alone in the dark.
Jude kept a game face on, so I couldn’t really tell if she was feeling off at all. She hugged me in thanks for the extra T-shirt and the spare toothbrush I brought her and then followed Jake and Carson into their half of the house to claim their hide-a-bed. Millicent tagged along, drawling as they went, “I’ll share the bed with the girlie. I daresay those two deserve a few moments to themselves.” She jabbed a finger towards Christopher, though, and added, “Boy, you wake me up at the first sign of trouble if I ain’t already coming.”
We both readily agreed. The others all opting to give us some space and quiet time was well worth it.
But Millie’s wise, dark gaze was on Jude the entire time, and as she ambled after everyone else into the other half of the house, I saw her frown. That stayed with me while Christopher and I settled on my couch with my violin in my hands and Fortissimo sandwiching his furry bulk in between us. What songs came to my strings and bow were solemn ones, in minor keys, and I had to hope and pray that they would not become laments.
* * *
It wasn’t so much that she resented Kendis having a boyfriend now. That kind of thing did, after all, happen. Maybe not so much when the boyfriend in question had magical powers and was sworn to protect the city from things that went bump in the night. But that wasn’t even the point, and as she gave in and let Millicent mother-hen her into going to bed, Jude mused grumpily that the point was that when your best friend had a boyfriend, that meant they went on dates.
So no, she hadn’t wanted to go to the concert, even though Kendis had invited her. No matter how best a best friend might be, nobody wanted one along on quality time with a boyfriend who looked like Christopher.
As she drifted off into sleep, though, a stealthy little voice uncurled itself in the very back of her mind.
Besides, your own date was cancelled too. That was a date you were on, wasn’t it? And she didn’t even ask how it went. Then there was laughter, droll and inviting, and ever so slightly bitter. At least, up until the part where she interrupted you—but I guess that part wasn’t about her.
The voice sounded like a dream, and so with a dream’s unthinking logic, Jude accepted its presence if not its actual words. That’s not fair and you know it. Dinner with an old girlfriend doesn’t automatically equal date. There was nothing for Kendis to know.
Still, the voice purred, it would have been nice if she’d asked.
She had to admit, that was true. That one little nugget of truth remained in Jude’s mind, following her deeper into dreaming. Then, in the next instant, she stood out on one of the many bike trails that crisscrossed Seattle. The sun shone with the warmth of high summer, and there should have been bikers on the trail, or people of all ages out for walks with their children or their dogs, or all by themselves. Yet she was alone. And the temperature was beginning to drop.
I should go in, she thought. It’s going to snow.
But there was that nugget of whispering truth, lodged now behind her breastbone, cold and growing colder. Jude took a step on the trail and then stopped, looking down in bemusement at the snowflakes blowing up and out from her chest. Frost was growing there, heavy and numbing. It sank into her bare skin even as it sent tiny flurries of snow out to gust around her.
And it was oddly pretty.
Don’t go in yet, the voice in the back of her mind crooned. Or had the voice moved now into the frost? Or was it in both places at once? I want to make a snowman… no. A snowwoman. Doesn’t that sound like fun? Would you like to help?
Jude smiled and nodded once, slowly, while the swirls of flakes grew stronger around her. Snow gathered at her bare feet, but she held patiently still as the chill crept up her legs to meet the frost expanding at her chest. Unseen hands, somewhere in the blowing snow, brushed approving fingers along her cheeks as the laughter sounded again, a soft little clatter of amusement edged in ice.
Oh, you’re going to be an excellent snowwoman indeed. And just think what fun we’re going to have when we wake up!
Chapter Six
What sleep I managed was spotty at best. My magic, roused by the whatever-it-was that had invaded Jude’s body, coursed through my system like the world’s biggest shot of caffeine. Even with the comfort of Christopher beside me, I kept dreaming that something was wrong with Jude—that she’d stopped breathing, that she’d had a heart attack, or that Jake had had to call an ambulance for her. Nor could Millicent and Christopher help. Millicent kept insisting she was on the watch for dragons, while Christopher kept adding layers to Wards that seemed far too insubstantial to my dreaming sight.
The Wards won’t work if the thing’s already here! I tried to yell a warning to both the Warders, but had somehow lost control of my voice. Nor could I leap up off the couch to go to Jude, no matter how fiercely I ordered myself to move.
Through it all, I was strangely, uncomfortably cold.
Dawn comes early in Seattle, even in October. Even under the best of circumstances it would have been too early for my blood—blood that had, ever since the rising of my magic and the revelation of my fey heritage, found the night a far easier time to be awake. Normally Fort would have demanded his breakfast at six-thirty sharp. This time, as sunlight invaded my liv
ing room the next morning, something else beat him to the punch.
“Jude!” Her name exploded out of me, and I shot bolt upright on the couch even as I realized that Christopher had put an arm around me, trying to keep me from rolling onto the floor. Before he could speak, I blurted, “Something’s wrong.”
He didn’t contradict me, which worried me. Neither did Millicent, which worried me more. The Warder First stomped in from Carson and Jake’s side of the house with enough lightning in her eyes that she could have set off earthquakes with a single glance. “Jude’s gone,” she barked without preamble.
“What!” I pulled out of Christopher’s embrace and scrambled to my feet. “Gone where? Did you see her? When did she leave?”
“Can’t have been more than ten minutes ago. Girlie bailed when my pants were down. Literally. Took off when I was in the damn bathroom!”
Christopher rubbed a hand across his eyes and stood up beside me. “Did you see her before? Had she woken up yet?” His voice was far more alert than I felt. But weariness shadowed his eyes, and his expression was profoundly troubled. “I shouldn’t have dozed off. By the time I felt her leaving, she was already driving away.”
“We’re Warders, but we’re still only human, boy. Neither of us could have stayed up all night. And damned if I could sense anything different about her, even sleeping right next to her.”
“Did she leave a note?” Stupid question, I was almost certain, since if there’d been one Millie surely would’ve produced it. Still, I had to ask. Likewise, I had to grab my cell phone off the coffee table, and despite her scowl, Millicent gave me a nod of curt approval.
“Not a peep out of her, written or otherwise. She waited till the boys left for work before she took off, too. Get her on that thing if you can. See if she’s answering.”
No dice. When I tapped Jude’s number in my address book, it rang straight through into her voice mail. “You know the drill,” her recording announced with her typical straightforward cheer. “Message after the beep, yadda yadda, and go for it!”
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