Page 44 of Monsters and Mocha

Merry’s eyes closed as soon as Darby started speaking, and Fitz barely contained a gasp as a swirl of blue and silver light pooled around the young man’s fingertips. Merry leaned forward, touching her leg just below the knee.

Please, Deus.

He could tell the moment that Merry’s magic started working. Darby’s breathing evened out and she opened her eyes. She gave Merry a wide smile that quickly turned into a grimace. “You did it! Do you think you can keep that magic flowing for long enough to get me to…well, probably not the hospital, since that was on fire, last I saw.”

Merry nodded. “I think so.”

Henry burst into relieved tears. Fitz brushed a hand over Darby’s hair. “It looks like you’re stuck with that mischievous bird, after all.”

“As long as he doesn’t try to bring any friends by. I’ve had enough attempted murders for one day.”

Fitz sighed. “I see your sense of humor is still alive and well.”

“Which is almost more than you could say of me.”

“Darby,” he groaned. “Could you please stop joking about your own death?”

“Let her make whatever jokes she wants,” Henry argued. “We all have our own ways of coping.”

“Thank you, Henry,” Darby answered primly. Her eyelids started drooping, and she was obviously fighting off exhaustion. “Though there is one part of this experience that I am rather disappointed about.”

A bark of disbelieving laughter escaped him. “Only one?”

“I was going to be all dramatic and ask you to kiss me before I die, but now I won’t get that chance.” Her words slurred together as her head rolled to the side, finally succumbing to the rest she so desperately needed.

Fitz breathed out a laugh, shaking his head.

That’s my girl—taking everything in stride and finding joy wherever she can. It’s one of the things I love about her.

“I love you, Darby,” he whispered, kissing the top of her forehead. “And don’t worry; there’s still time.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

DARBY

Akiss on the forehead was usually a pleasant way to be woken from sleep.

When the kiss didn’t come from a crow.

“Ow.” Darby’s voice was hoarse and resembled the croak of a frog more than a human sound. She forced her eyes open, blinking several times to get the bleary images in front of her to focus. Raven’s head was upside down, the offending beak still hovering over her forehead from his perch at the head of the bed.

“Good Raven.” He tilted his head, his beady eyes bright and curious.

“Yes, you’re a good Raven.” The warm bed beckoned her back into its embrace, and she closed her eyes. The sunlight peeking through the curtains in her room indicated an afternoon hour, but she had no idea what day it was or how long had passed since the events of Dr. Fransten’s laboratory. “I suppose you still wouldn’t be able to turn into a carrier pigeon and bring me back some coffee?”

“He can’t, but I will.”

Darby’s eyes flew open again. In her sleep-addled state, she had missed Fitz’s form sitting in the chair that had been dragged to her bedside. He leaned forward, resting one elbow on the mattress beside her and gently brushing her hair from her face, trailing his thumb down the side of her jaw. His smile was warm and soft, and a delicious, bubbly feeling spread through Darby’s chest.

It almost feels like magic, but…better.

“Captain.” She returned his smile. Raven fluttered off to the other side of the room.

He raised an eyebrow. “Doctor. I didn’t realize we were going back to such formal titles.”

“I felt it was necessary, given that I don’t know exactly how things stand between us.” She had vague memories of precious words being whispered near her ear, but whether they were a dream or a reality she wasn’t sure.

“I see.” Fitz’s face became solemn, and he moved his hand from her face to the mattress, where he interlaced the fingers of their right hands. “And how would you like us to stand?”