“No,” Grace said, scrambling forward to yank the bag away from me and hug it close to her. “No screwing around. This is serious.”
Oddly enough, I felt better, because this had all been worthwhile. We couldn’t let Roman have this. We couldn’t let anyone have this.
“Don’t tell me you’re not even a little bit tempted,” I said, poking, just a little. Grace rolled her eyes at me.
“Don’t try it with any cash until you know you’re not going to end up with a stack of twenties with the same serial number,” Ben said.
“You’re all ruining my fun,” I said. “So. Is anyone hungry?” I gestured to the stack of Power Bars.
No one was.
* * *
BEN PICKED a wall—well away from the corpselike vampires—and sat against it, huffing perhaps a little more dramatically than he needed to. I curled up next to him, pulling my legs close and snuggling against him, more wolfish than I usually was. I was tired, and I needed the comfort that the warmth and scent of my mate’s body gave me. He draped his arm across me and sighed.
Across from us, Grace sat, hugging the bag with the pearl close, propped against her own bag, looking particularly young and lost. Cormac took off his jacket and handed it to her. Accepting it, she smiled thinly and used it as a blanket.
Next to Ben and me, Cormac sat with his back to the wall, within view of the door and the vampires, the loaded crossbow propped on his bent knee. He seemed to be waiting for an invasion. He wasn’t going to be getting any sleep, either.
I nodded at the crossbow. “Do you really need that? Roman’s not going to show up for a while.”
“What do we do when those two wake up hungry?” He nodded at Anastasia and Henry.
“I trust Anastasia. She wouldn’t hurt us.”
“That chick is batshit crazy,” he said.
I sat up. “You would be, too. And you’re one to talk, what with the Victorian wizard-lady living in your brain.”
Hugging herself, blinking through her glasses, Grace watched us. I settled back and promised myself I wouldn’t argue anymore. Much.
“It’s not like I can just get rid of her,” Cormac whispered.
“So she is possessing you. Holding you prisoner.”
“She saved my life,” he said.
The silence stretched. I would have appreciated a ticking clock. As it was, I felt as though we’d fallen out of the universe. Grace’s written prayers seemed to glow in the muted light of Cormac’s magicked quartz.
“What happened to you in there?” Ben asked. Meaning prison. What had happened to change Cormac so much in two years?
Cormac gave a short chuckle. “Place had demons.”
“Most people would think you meant that figuratively,” I said.
“Demons, gods—the world’s full of all kinds of shit,” he said.
“But Amelia saved your life?” I said, to confirm it in my own mind as much as anything. The more I tried to pry the story from him the more surly he’d get. But I wanted to be sure of that much.
“Yeah.”
“Then I guess I’ll stop bitching about her.”
I could see his wry smile, even in the semidarkness. “She and I both appreciate it.”
“I’ve just been worried about you,” I said.
“You don’t have to worry about me,” he said, matter-of-fact, instantly—like a defense mechanism.