"We need to talk about what happened."
"After." Her voice was strained. "After this is over, we can talk."
"I think we should talk now." I took a step toward her.
She shook her head, finally meeting my eyes. The pain in hers nearly destroyed me. "Not now. I need to focus, Elias."
"At least allow me to apologize for being a horrific bastard."
She wrapped her arms around herself, the defensive gesture hitting me right in the gut. "Please, Elias. I can't…I can't do this right now. I can't fall apart before I've even started. So please, just... let it wait."
Every instinct I had screamed against it. I couldn't leave things broken between us when she was about to walk into hell itself. But I ground my teeth together and kept my mouth shut.
"All right." I moved back to my corner. "After."
"After," she echoed, relief and pain warring in her expression.
Judy returned carrying an armload of candles, chalk, and what looked like bones. "Make yourselves useful," she said, nodding toward the furniture. "Everything needs to be pushed against the walls."
We worked in silence. Talin took one end of the couch, I took the other. We moved Judy's coffee table, her armchairs, her ottoman. The whole time, we avoided each other's eyes, avoided touching, avoided everything except the work.
The thread between us screamed in agony.
Kenya came in from the hallway, her cell phone in her hand. "They're all in position," she said quietly. "Judy, they're ready when you are."
"Good." Reaching a hand toward me, Judy knelt in the center of the now-empty floor with my assistance and began drawing. Circles within circles, runes and sigils I didn't recognize, lines of power that glowed faintly as her chalk touched wood. "Kenya, place the candles there, there, there, and there." She pointed to each spot. "Talin, I need three drops of your blood at each cardinal point."
Talin moved to comply, producing a small knife from her pocket. I watched her prick her finger, watched crimson drops fall onto Judy's chalk lines. Each one made the symbols flare brighter.
Gods. Even those tiny drops made my fangs ached and the back of my throat burn.
"Elias." Judy didn't look up from her work. "You'll sit here." She indicated a spot at the circle's northern point. "Talin sits across from you there. Kenya will be at the eastern point. I'll be at the west."
I took my position, sitting cross-legged on the wooden floor. Talin took hers, our eyes meeting across three feet of ritual space that might as well have been miles. "How am I supposed to keep her grounded if I can't touch her?"
Judy ignored my question—and my scowl—and continued drawing, her movements precise and practiced as she told us what each symbol meant. The circle grew more complex with each passing minute. Layers of protection, channels for power, anchoring points that would keep Talin's consciousness tethered to this world while she walked between dimensions… the circle grew and grew until it covered most of the floor.
Kenya lit the last candle, then sank into her spot with a grateful sigh. "I really hope this works."
Judy stood, surveying her work. The circle pulsed with power, intricate and beautiful and terrifying in its complexity. "This is it," she said quietly. "Once we begin, there's no stopping. The binding points will be disrupted simultaneously, and Talin will have minutes to find Alex and pull him back."
"Marcus will try to interfere," I told her, hating how strained my voice sounded. "That doesn't give her much time."
"Of course he will." Judy's blue eyes were hard. "But that's why you're here. We're counting on you to keep our girl safe and bring her home to us."
My eyes met Talin's. "We've always been touching before," I said. "Always. I need to be touching her." I honestly didn't know if that was true, but I'd feel a hell of a lot better if I could feel her hands in mine at the very least. Maybe it was only an illusion that made me think I could physically pull her back if I needed to. And maybe I was a fucking idiot to think I could just yank her mind from another dimension by touching some part of her body. But this just didn't feel right to me.
"You can't follow her this time, Elias. You're good where you are." Judy pulled out her phone. "I'm sending the signal. Everyone will strike in three minutes."
Judy picked up a bowl that looked like it was filled with salt and very carefully, without touching any of the chalk markings, poured it around the edge of the circle .
I still didn't like this, but there wasn't much I could do. "You okay?" I asked Kenya.
She nodded, her breathing quick and shallow, but there was nothing I could say or do to make her feel better about all of this either.
Talin sat across from me, her green eyes haunted as she finally—finally!—focused on me.
"After this is over," I said quietly, "we'll have all the time in the world. You and me."
