Chapter 21
Quinn
The fae woman leaned over Torrent’s crumpled form on the bed. The flowers attached to stems that seemed to grow right out of her scalp swayed with her silvery hair. She pressed a hand to his side just above where one of his tentacles was twisted around his human-like torso and murmured. I caught a faint ripple of energy in the air.
His wounds had finished sealing as a bunch of the shadowkind outside had carried him into the bedroom. No more smoky essence dissipated into the air around us. But he was still unconscious, his limbs tensed at awkward angles as if braced against some internal pain.
At the fae woman’s attentions, at least some of the stiffness in his expression had faded. She moved her hands to his shoulders and murmured again, and the final furrow smoothed out of his brow. Her lips pursed as she looked down at him.
“He should have stayed in the shadow realm longer to properly heal. But I’ve done what I can for the internal damage. The rest will have to knit together on its own over time.”
I swallowed thickly. “How much time?”
She shook her head with a rustling of the flowers. “I don’t know for sure. But he should wake up.”
That didn’t sound like a promise.
I tucked my legs up onto the bed where I’d perched next to Torrent’s feet, hesitant to even touch him in his potentially fragile state. A couple of the beings who’d been gathered around him when I’d found them outside eased closer.
“He must have come through the rift that’s about twenty miles from here,” the hunched goblin said. “That’s the closest one. I don’t know how he managed to make it as far as he did from there on his own. We found him on our patrol about halfway here already, crawling along through the shadows but barely able to talk.”
The fanged man next to him nodded. “He conked right out when we went to help him. We had to carry him back. Someone really wasn’t happy with him, wherever he ended up.” His gaze slid to Torrent with a sympathetic grimace.
“Thank you,” I said. “For bringing him back so quickly. It sounds like… it sounds like he’ll probably be okay.” I was afraid to say anything more certain like that, as if I might jinx his recovery.
They dipped their heads and wavered away, leaving me alone with Torrent. None of my other men had returned from their most recent expeditions yet. I had no idea what else I could do.
Gingerly, I sank down on my side facing Torrent. I’d never seen my tentacled man really sleeping before. Shadowkind didn’t technically need to sleep as part of their regular routine, and he’d tended to slip away into the shadows when he wanted to take a break.
His scarred chest rose and fell with slow but now steady breaths. His mouth twitched and then stilled. I wanted to reach out to him, but I had no idea how much internal damage might be healing beneath his skin.
Taking in the bruises and scars that mottled his body and remembering the battered state I’d found him in sent a wild rush of emotion searing through my chest. I could make sure that didn’t happen again. I could send him away from all of this, from every being that might hurt him, like I had before. How the hell could I be so selfish to keep the men I loved in this fight?
Especially when at the end of it, there’d only be more heartbreak even if we won. Because I was becoming more and more certain that I wasn’t going to make it past the final battle with my heart still beating.
I closed my eyes against the wave of anguish, hot tears welling up at the corners. As much as the ache inside wrenched at me, I knew I couldn’t give in to it. I had taken that approach once before—and I’d seen how much pushing my men away had hurt them too.
There was no getting out of this scenario without some pain along the way—for any of us. But the sweet parts of life, the thrills and the beauty, had made the hard parts worth it for me. I knew all of my monstrous men would have said the same.
We were as connected as any beings, human or shadowkind, could become. And that meant we’d stand together through whatever happened next.
The body next to me stirred. As my eyes popped open, one of Torrent’s tentacles flexed. It slid across the sheets to loop around my waist, looking instinctive in its movements.
His jaw flexed. His brow knit, and he blinked. His gaze fixed on me blearily and then with increasing focus. A whiff of confusion and then another of relief passed from him into me.
“Quinn,” he said in a ragged voice.
With a leap of my heart, I sat up. “Can I get you anything? There was a fae who helped heal you—if you think you need more of her powers?—”
“Quinn,” he repeated, a little steadier, and tightened his grip on my waist. “I want you here. That’s what I came back for. Don’t go running off on some new mission, Ms. Fix It.”
The old nickname brought a lump to my throat. I lay back down, letting Torrent tug me closer. When I rested my hand on his chest, his eyelids lowered to half-mast with an expression contented enough to absolve my guilt about not insisting on doing more.
“What happened?” I asked quietly. “Who did this to you? Was it the leviathan’s minions—did they catch you on the way to the Highest?—”
Torrent’s dark laugh interrupted my question. “It was the Highest. Or their underlings, anyway. They took my warning as a threat, an attempt at manipulating them, and they were deeply displeased.”
An icy jolt lanced through my chest. “You told them what was happening, and they attacked you for it? What the hell is wrong with them?”
“A very good question.” He sighed and rolled toward me with a wince at the movement. “They’ve been holed up in the deepest parts of the shadow realm for so long I wouldn’t be surprised if their minds are as muddled as the leviathan’s seems to be. Which is all the more reason it’d be a very bad thing if they were dragged into the mortal realm. They didn’t think it was possible.”
“Which means they’re arrogant and over-confident as well as being vicious jerks,” I muttered.
A soft smile touched Torrent’s lips. He raised his hand to my face and stroked his fingers over my cheek. “So angry on my behalf.”
“Of course I am. They practically killed you. The beings who found you said you should have stayed in the shadow realm longer to heal. Did something else happen that we need to be ready for?”
He shook his head slightly against the pillow. “No. That was just— I didn’t know what was going on here. I was worried—” He cut himself off, holding my gaze so intently that my pulse stuttered.
A warm wash of emotion carried with his next words. “I love you. I want to be here with you for as much time as I possibly can. If that means it takes a little longer for my wounds to heal, I don’t mind.”
He’d never said those three words before. He’d specifically told me he wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to. I hadn’t minded, but hearing them fall from his lips so emphatically set off a swell of answering emotion in my chest.
I scooted even closer to him and wrapped one arm around him, hugging him as tightly as I dared. “I love you too. So much. I’m sorry— You went through so much and they didn’t even listen?—”
“It wasn’t your idea for me to go,” Torrent said gently. He kissed my forehead. “It was the right thing to do. We had to try. Now we try something else. I’m sure you and the others can bring me up to speed on where we’re at now.”
I thought of everything that we’d learned since he’d left, and my stomach started to ache. I was going to need to tell him about all of it, but first I raised my head so I could meet his mouth for a lingering kiss. The quiver of joy that passed from him into me through our connection confirmed just how worth it this moment was to him.
Afterward, I sucked in a breath to gird myself. “There’s been a lot. And the humans we’ve had to reach out to are being just as stubborn as the Highest. This is what you’ve missed…”
* * *
When Torrent drifted back into the sleep-like state that seemed to be helping him recover, I eased off the bed and went back to the bedroom where I’d been sleeping. The words he’d said and the devotion he’d offered me were still humming through my body. There were so many things wrong with the world, but that brief conversation had made everything feel a little more right.
I’d spent so much of my life trying to protect everyone around me from the impact of the problems I was facing. Going it alone. Keeping them at a distance or shoving them completely away. Suddenly I couldn’t help wondering if I’d actually accomplished anything close to what I’d hoped to that way.
I couldn’t do anything about the friends I’d pulled back from or never let in to begin with, but there were two other people I loved who I hadn’t been fully honest with in a long time. I might not see them again before I died. Maybe they deserved my honesty more than my attempt at protecting them.
With my pillow propped against the headboard, I sat back and dialed Mom’s number. Beyond the guestroom window, evening was falling, pink and orange streaking across the clouds with the setting sun.
We’d survived another day. That counted for something.
Mom picked up on the second ring. “Quinn? How are you, sweetheart?”
So eager to get an update on my well-being before anything else. The affection and concern in her tone decided me.
“Right now, okay,” I said. “Are you two hanging in there all right still?”
“As well as can be expected, I suppose. I don’t like staying here rather than being out there helping stop what’s happening… but I can admit I have no idea how I would help.”
“Staying safe helps,” I reminded her. “It means I can focus more on fixing all this.”
“I know. But I wish it didn’t come down to you. I still don’t understand how any of this could be true.”
“Yeah, it doesn’t make a whole lot of sense to me either. But it is what it is.” I paused and raised my chin in defiance of my own hesitation. “Is Dad up? Could you put the phone on speaker so you can both hear me? There’s—there’s something else I’d like to talk to you about.”
“Of course.” Mom couldn’t disguise the tremor of worry in her voice as she clicked the phone over.
“Hey, kiddo,” Dad said from somewhere slightly more distant.
“Hi, Dad. It’s good to hear your voice.” But beating around the bush would only leave them to wonder anxiously longer. Better to rip off the bandaid.
I closed my eyes. “I didn’t tell you everything the last time I saw you. I didn’t want to make you worry even more. But I feel like you should know. I’m not sure if it’d have happened anyway or if it’s because of all the supernatural stuff that I’m wrapped up in now, but I’m getting symptoms like my heart is starting to fail.”
“Oh, sweetheart.” Something about Mom’s voice wrapped around me like an invisible hug. “How long has that been happening? You know there are medications that are supposed to moderate?—”
“I know,” I cut in, unable to listen to her offer up false hope. “One of my friends was able to arrange for me to get some. And it’s only been for a couple of weeks. But it seems to be getting worse quickly even so, which is why I think the supernatural stuff is probably a factor. I’m okay. I always knew it could start to go at any time. I knew I wasn’t going to live to eighty or something. I just—I didn’t want to keep that from you. I wanted you to be able to prepare, and to tell you that you really did everything you could for me. You were exactly what I needed as parents.”
“Quinn.” Dad sounded choked up. He paused before continuing hoarsely. “You’ve been everything we ever wanted in a daughter. Isn’t there some way that these… creatures, whatever they are… I mean, some of them have something like magic…?”
I let out a rough chuckle. “This seems to be beyond anything they’re capable of fixing. Believe me, they’d be doing it if they could. But I’m happy. I’ve been happy. I still had a lot of great things in the life I did get. And there’s nothing I’d rather be doing with the rest of it than making sure as many people as possible get more life too.”
“You’ve always been so strong,” Mom said. “I know you haven’t liked to talk all that much about anything you’re worried about. I’m glad that you told us. You have to know how much we love you. Our thoughts are going to be with you the entire time. And if you can come back here and see us again, I hope you will.”
Her voice wavered, but she didn’t let herself beg to see me, even though I had the feeling she wanted to. My eyes teared up all over again. “I definitely will. I don’t know if it’ll be possible, but if I can, I’ll be there.”
A nostalgic note crept into Dad’s tone. “I still remember the time when you were fourteen and you insisted on going on that new rollercoaster at Busch Gardens, and you were laughing the whole time while your mother and I hung on for dear life.”
A bittersweet smile crossed my face. “That was a fun trip. We had a lot of good times.”
“We did,” Mom said softly.
We reminisced back and forth for a while longer, until my heart felt full and my gut heavy. When I hung up, I slumped back into the pillows—and a tall form wavered into being just inside the doorway.
Rollick had returned. He studied me with his incisive gaze. “I didn’t want to interrupt your call. It sounded important. You told your parents about your health?”
I nodded. “It seemed like the right thing to do. Now the fact that I haven’t isn’t hanging over me.” Then I pushed myself straighter, my melancholy falling away under a sharper wave of apprehension. “What’s happened? Has something changed?”
He held up his phone with a twist of his mouth. “Unfortunately, yes. There’s breaking news out of Norway.”