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“Good. Town could use some reviving. Things just seemed to get worse after…” The man cleared his throat. “I’m William, by the way. I own the grocery store, and I’m on the town’s council. You need anything, you come on and find me. Okay?”
“We will,” I said.
When the man was seated back at his table and opened his paper again, I reached for Chris’ hand again. “You okay?”
“I think so. I don’t know why, but I wasn’t expecting anyone to remember me.”
He didn’t think he was worthy of anyone remembering him, but I hoped one day soon he’d see himself the way that I saw him. Strong and courageous and a survivor. “I knew they would, but I didn’t expect anyone to remember me.”
“I didn’t know that people saw you. I didn’t ask what happened when they showed up. I felt bad I couldn’t get up and help, but I didn’t have the strength to—”
“Stop. You were in really bad shape. You needed a week of healing from the fey to recover from what they did to you, and I didn’t need your help. So, it’s fine.” I wasn’t sure how much to tell him. He’d already beat himself up enough about all the things he couldn’t do to stop them. “Your pack was doing bad things. You knew that already. That’s why you sent for me. But I stopped it.”
“What was happening? Tell me. I need to know.”
I let out a breath. We were here for food, not to dive into this gruesome subject. If he knew what happened here, he would feel responsible, and he wasn’t. He’d done everything he could. “It was bad, and not a great topic for the dinner table. Let it be enough to know that this town—these people—have suffered just as bad as you did, and I’m liking your idea more and more. But Van should be here shortly with Elowen. We’ll get the chip. Have it out with Ziriel. Deal with my mother. And once all of those impossible things are done, we’ll talk about this town, what happened, and how to help it heal. Okay?”
“I don’t know that it’s okay.” He stared at the table, and his eyes seemed to have glazed over with the memories. “I don’t know that I can eat and not know.”
He wasn’t going to be able to eat if I told him, and I needed him to eat. He had to be strong for whatever we faced next. “Innocent people get hurt all the time, and that’s never okay. But you have a great idea for how to help not just this town but all kinds of supernaturals. I want to help make that happen, but we have to get through some really tough things first. We can’t help anyone until we save ourselves. For right now, let’s focus on that, and—”
Van and Elowen fell to the floor beside our table. They were lying there, Elowen half on top of Van, breathing way too hard.
It was the sight of bright red blood dripping down Elowen’s face that got me moving. My chair crashed to the floor as I jumped up, gripping a flaming short blade in each hand. “Report!”
“I made sure they couldn’t track us. We’re safe.” Van sat up, slowly moving Elowen to sit, too. His breathing was reedy and there was too much blood on his shirt to have come from the cut on Elowen’s brow.
“You’re bleeding?”
“Yes. It’s been a while since I’ve been stabbed.”
I muttered a quiet thanks to the flaming blades in either hand and sent them away. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Chris putting his shirt back on. He’d been ready to shift and fight. His eyes were still glowing, but no fur anywhere. Just smooth, tanned skin.
I knelt beside Van. “Let me see.” I pulled up his shirt, and reached for a napkin to wipe off the blood, revealing only pristinely healed skin.
Van gripped my wrist. “I’m fine, Coco. Just need to rest and have food. So, it’s lucky we’re at a place that can provide both. Although I didn’t realize you had left his land. I just thought I’d come to you, but a restaurant? When you knew I was coming back? Really?”
I let out a shaky breath as I rested my forehead on his shoulder. I’d never seen him with a wound this bad. Not ever. “That one could’ve killed you if they’d used a better blade.” But if he was really hurt, he wouldn’t be annoyed about traveling into a public place.
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“Don’t worry. Your mother didn’t want me dead. Just hurt.”
I jerked away from him. My mother had done this? “What are we going to do?”
“I don’t know. She’s… It’s worse than I thought.”
Chris reached a hand down to Van and pulled him up. He looked at our small table, and motioned to the waitress. “Can we move over there?” He pointed to a larger table in the corner, away from any other customers.
Her eyes were wide, her face pale, and I wasn’t sure if she was breathing, but she nodded. “Suuuure.”
Oh, boy. I’d overreacted a little when I saw the blood, but it was too late to change my actions now. Everyone in the restaurant was quietly staring, no one was moving, and I knew I’d scared the shit out of them, but I didn’t care. Van had been bleeding. I hadn’t seen him hurt in a long time.
Chris pulled out a chair for Van, and Elowen sat next to him. Her clothes were torn and bloody and her long black hair looked stringy, like it hadn’t been washed in days. I’d never seen her so rumpled before.
Chris guided me to a chair across from Van, but I was still on alert—checking all the exits, keeping my hands free to summon weapons, analyzing the body language of every person in the restaurant. Still easing back from the killing edge. I couldn’t believe that Van had been stabbed and I hadn’t been there to help him fight.
When we were all sitting at the new table—two of us on each side—and breathing better, I turned to Elowen. “And you? Are you okay?” There wasn’t any other injury that I could see except for the cut on her brow, but fey were fast-healing.
