Page 38

Two Weeks Later

“I am starving .” Doyle snagged a menu and flipped it open immediately.

Damon, Doyle and I sat at a small table in a busy, crowded airport in Edinburgh, waiting for the flight that would take us back home. Zeke had been otherwise engaged by the time we were able to go back home—he’d reached out and checked on when we thought we might be going home, but since Doyle wasn’t healing at a normal rate, we’d told him to go ahead and consider the contract fulfilled. I didn’t want to leave the poor guy hanging when he’d been so helpful.

Now, as I perused the menu, I tried to get my mind to focus on food.

I was exhausted.

As Angus as predicted, the boundless energy I’d been feeling had finally drained but it had taken almost a week.

He’d been watching me closely and when I dropped, it had literally been that—dropping off right in the middle of a sentence while talking to Doyle.

It had freaked the kid out something off.

I’d slept for two days.

The sleep had been full of weird dreams that had been more than just dreams.

Lemeraties.

My mother.

Volund.

My mother had hugged me and told me she was proud of me.

Volund had thanked me and told me not to worry about trying to retrieve his body. He told he could rest easy knowing we’d finally found justice for him.

Lemeraties had told me goodbye.

I couldn’t call her blade anymore.

I don’t know what happened to it.

I remember using it to stab Doyle in the heart—he remembers that, too, and has dead-pan told me he hopes I never have to do that again.

I didn’t know if we’d try to go back and excavate the remains or not—the quakes had devastated the island. In a few weeks, I’d talk to Damon, see what he wanted to do. But for now, we were focused on Doyle.

And the kid wanted to go back home.

I was anxious to see Florida again myself.

Rana was already there and the two of them had spoken. He hasn’t asked me about her, but I think he’s figured it out. She was discharged from the hospital and Colleen was letting her stay at her old house—Colleen moved in with Justin a few weeks earlier and they’re talking about getting married.

It’s weird to think of Rana staying around.

She’s not the only one, either.

Chang told me that he’d ‘acquired’ a sizeable piece of land an hour south of Orlando and for the time being, the surviving aneira would stay there with Demetrio in charge.

Rana had asked about them and once she knew they were safe, and that the children were recovering, she’d been happy to let it go.

I think she’s tired, but I know Demetrio doesn’t want to lead them. So, it will fall to Rana. She won’t tell him—or the people—no.

Doyle will get to meet the rest of our people. Our people. I can finally say that without sickness or fury.

Yeah, some of them were bastards and yet more were weak, but others, like Rana and Demetrio were doing the best they could.

Considering what they were dealing with, their best wasn’t bad.

“What can I get you fine people this morning?” a friendly feminine voice said.

Doyle and Damon had both gone still.

Warily, I looked up and the menu I’d been holding fell from numb fingers.

The server looked down at herself, then back up at us. “Do I have something on my face?”

“Ah, no,” I said, finding my tongue. “You…I’m sorry, you just look really familiar.” I laughed a little and kicked Damon under the table.

“Yeah. Almost her double. My old…boss,” he added. “She passed away a couple of years ago.”

Doyle was still staring at the woman like he’d seen a ghost and I reached under the table, took his hand.

“Oh, I’m sorry…” She winced. “You know what they say…everybody’s got a twin out there somewhere.”

“Yeah.” Doyle cleared his throat and managed a weak smile. “You really do look like her…until you smile. She didn’t smile much.”

“That’s sad. Everybody should smile.” She gave him a gentle look, almost as if she’d picked up on his discomfort. “Americans, right? Heading back home?”

“Yeah. We were here for…work,” Damon said. His nostrils flared and I knew he was checking her scent. His tension melted away.

I knew why. She was human. Just human.

“I’m sorry we stared,” I told her. “The similarity is just really eerie.”

“Oh, lamb, it’s nothing.” She waved a dismissive hand. “Now, what can I get you?”

We all placed our orders and she gave a sharp nod. “I’ll get all of that in. If you need anything else in the meantime, just ask for me. I’m Annette.”

She was already turning and moving away—and that was a damn good thing.

“What are the fucking odds?” Damon muttered, grabbing his ice water and tossing it back like it was moonshine.

“She looks like her. She has her name. But she doesn’t smell like her.” Doyle shook his head. “How weird is that?”

“I’m not going to worry about it,” I announced. I gave Doyle’s hand one last squeeze. “She’s human. And you know what? We’re going home .”

All three of us. We’d live through it.

Damon took my hand and kissed the back of it.

Next to me, Doyle smiled. “Yeah. We’re going home.”

And that was all that mattered.