Calm, yes. Complacent, sure. Seen and not heard. That’s what people wanted for me. I’d be safe as a result, certainly: at school, at Renfrew, wherever.
But caringformy safety,aboutmy safety…
No one does that.
“…onesinglestep out of line and I’ll hex your bloodline into oblivion,” Morgan finishes up, inches from Callahan’s face. She glances at me. Then him. Then me. “I’ve really got to go,” she says. “I’m sorry, but?—”
“It’s fine,” I say, rising to my feet. “I’m just going to…shower. And bed.” I nod a few times for emphasis.
“Okay,” Morgan says. She throws Callahan one last look, and to his credit, he doesn’t take the bait. Just presses his lips together and nods in understanding.
“Good night, Morgan.” He keeps his eyes fixed on the floor as he says it. “Good night, Gwenna.”
I don’t answer. I…can’t answer.
The door clicks shut.
SEVEN
CALLAHAN
Cornubia Hall is quiet.Everyone asleep but me.
And her.
I stand straight and stare at the wall ahead of me. Lanz tried to talk me out of it, to swap shifts with him, told me that I was probably too tired after driving all night. Kai even agreed with him, but I told them both it was fine.
If anything, I'm too awake. I don't think I could lie down and sleep now if I tried.
She's here. She's back.
The whole drive home, I just felt soawareof her in the back seat, even without saying anything or being able to see her, no matter how often I glanced back in the rearview.
It was bad enough when we knew what kind of place she'd gone to. Worse when we showed up.
And then for Moroslav to be there…
I tighten my fists, straighten my back.
All in the name of the quest. Of duty. I would do it no matter what, whatever is needed.
But I also just needed to know for my own self, my own peace of mind, that she's okay.
That's why I'll stand here. Even if my knees lock and my eyes get sandy, I will stay awake and I will keep watch. For as long as it takes.
Inside Morgan's suite, I hear soft shuffling sounds, the scrape and clink of dishware, padding footsteps. I focus my gaze harder, not wanting to eavesdrop. None of my business. And I need to pay attention to what's going on out here. The odds of a troop of Russians storming in with swords drawn are low. But we can't risk it. The dagger strapped around my calf is testament to that.
More footsteps. The soft close of a door. A pause, then the rush of falling water. The shower.
Gwenna's clothes are here, I know, and I think back to that first day she came to Camlann house, when I had to show her around, acting like a goddamn idiot.
Only a few months ago, and it feels like a lifetime away.
I tip my head back so it's resting on the wall and stare at the ceiling for a moment. Behind me, pipes squeal and squeak, and the rushing sound rises and falls, shifts along with the scrape of shower curtain rings on metal.
I swallow hard.
How long can we keep any of this up? How long will we have to?
