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The room lay steeped in gloom, all lamps out except for a small feylantern glowing blue, more of a night-light than anything else. Its soft glow traced the contours of a familiar odd body, stuck on the crossroads between human and hyena.
I stood in the doorway, unable to enter.
“I can smell you, you know,” Andrea said. “I have your sword.”
Andrea raised Slayer, hilt first, still in its sheath. I came to sit next to her on the edge of the bed and took the sword.
“Not even a thank-you?”
“Thank you,” I said. “How are you?”
“I lost Julie. I had her in my hands and lost her.”
“I saw. You did all you could.”
“You saw? How?”
“The witches showed me and Bran a vision of the fight.”
Andrea sighed. “If I had my guns…they wouldn’t have worked. Jesus, what a clusterfuck we made of it.”
“Are you going to make it?”
She sighed. “You’re worried about me. Why? I’m beastkin. I heal fast. The flare is going full force, and the doctor has worked his magic. I’ll be up by tomorrow.”
“And Jim?”
“Which one is Jim?”
“The jaguar.”
“Heavy muscle damage,” Andrea said. “Ligaments all torn to shreds. He’s in the next room.”
I felt like scum. If I stayed any longer, I would scream.
Andrea looked at me from the sheets. “It was a good plan. Curran creates a distraction, occupies them while they key on him, and we grab the girl. Except those bitches wouldn’t die and we failed.”
“You tried.” That was more than I did.
“Kate, I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking that if you had watched Julie, she wouldn’t have left with Red and we wouldn’t be in this mess.”
What? “No. Not at all.”