I let myself drift, too tired to care anymore. Heat built up in my arm, a persistent sensation that wouldn't allow me to float away entirely. It was an annoying feeling, nagging at the edges of my awareness, pulling me back to a body that suddenly seemed too burdensome to bear.

I opened my eyes and found myself staring at the top of Kristoff's head, the rich brown curls a few inches from my nose. "What are you doing?"

He looked up, bumping his head on my chin. The warmth I felt had been his mouth on the gash, now partially closed in a raw-looking welt. "You've lost too much blood."

"You're healing me?" I asked, amazed and even more confused at the dichotomy of his actions. "I kind of got the impression you never wanted to see me again."

Irritation flashed across his face. "You summoned me, if you recall."

"Yes, but that was because I knew you'd want to help Alec. I didn't think you'd give a snap about me."

He was silent for a moment, his expression stony and unreadable. "Alec would have my head if I let you bleed to death while I rescued him."

"Yes," I said, insight coming with a rare burst of clarity. "Did you drink enough? You seemed awful hungry."

A look of indignation flickered in his eyes. "I am not so desperate that I must prey on wounded women. I closed your wound, nothing more. If I have your permission, I will finish so we can ascertain what trouble Alec has managed to find now."

I nodded, watching with interest as his mouth moved over the remainder of my wound. Something like that would have grossed me out a few days before, but the touch of his mouth on my skin was sensual, erotic, and anything but repulsive. It sent little shivers of pleasure up and down my arms, and it was only with a great effort that I managed to keep my face placid.

"That's so weird," Dagrun said sulkily from the pack of ghosts, who were clustered around, watching intently. "I thought you said you couldn't heal."

"I can't, not in the true sense of the word. But I can stop the bleeding. It is a necessity for Dark Ones to know how to do so," Kristoff said as he examined his handiwork. The entire wound was closed now, still somewhat red and raw, but not open or bleeding. Dried blood pulled at my skin, however, making it feel itchy. "It would not do to have one's source of blood hemorrhaging to death. Are you able to stand?"

The last bit was addressed to me. I nodded and got to my feet, staggering a moment when the blood seemed to rush from my head. Kristoff's hands were warm on my arms as he steadied me. "I'm OK. We'd better go see what's happening to Alec. If he'd only let me explain to the Brotherhood guys who I was, I'm sure I could have avoided the whole scene."

"Don't count on it," he said grimly, adjusting the collar of his coat and picking up a hat he must have taken off earlier. Without another word, he turned and strode off.

I looked at my collection of ghosts. They looked back at me, oddly silent. I realized that they were waiting to see whether I was going to abandon them or not.

"Right. I'm not quite sure how we're all going to fit into the car. Especially Ragnar."

"Don't worry about that," Ingveldur said with a smile. "We'll all dematerialize."

"You can do that? Excellent."

"I'm too old for that sort of foolishness," Agda said with dignity. "I will ride in the vehicle. I've always wanted to, ever since they started coming to the new village."

"You rode on the bus with the rest of us," Hallur pointed out as we started toward the now distant figure of Kristoff.

"It's not the same. I will ride in this mortal car."

"I want to ride, too," Dagrun said quickly. "I want to watch him."

There was no doubt whom she was referring to.

Ingveldur rolled her eyes. "You'll be behaving yourself, in that case. I won't have you giving the reaper any difficulties."

Ulfur patted his horse's nose. "Don't worry about us—I'll ride after you."

I thought Kristoff was going to kick up a fuss when the ghosts started piling into the car, but as one by one they disappeared—except Agda, Dagrun, and Hallur (who claimed he was there to keep an eye on the two women)—he said nothing, just asked where I thought Alec would be taken.

"The only place I know of that the Brotherhood uses is the church and house behind it. Do you think they'd harm him?"

"Without you? Probably not seriously. They'll wait for their so-called ritual before they kill him," Kristoff said matter-of-factly.

I opened my mouth to tell him there was no way I'd participate in a ceremony that would bring harm to anyone, let alone the man who had more or less professed his love for me, but Kristoff continued with a curious look cast my way.

"Why did you proceed with the marriage to the sacristan when you knew it was invalid?"

"For one, I don't know that the marriage you forced me into is legal."

"It is," he said flatly.

"And for another," I continued, "I decided that you had a point about them not being happy to see me if they knew I was married to you. Which meant I had no reason not to marry Mattias when they pushed the ceremony. Normally I wouldn't do something so underhanded, but…" I bit my lip, absently rubbing the welt on my arm where the knife had cut.

"But you realized the end justified the means?" Kristoff gave a sharp nod. "I understand now."

"No, you don't, because that isn't why I did it. It's confusing. I just thought that I'd like to see a little more about them. I mean, I've heard what you've had to say about the Brotherhood. I've heard what they've said about your people, too, and while both sides seem reasonable, neither one meshes completely. One of you has to be bad, and the other good. I'm just trying to figure out who is who. Unfortunately—oh, crap!"

Kristoff slammed on the brakes as we came upon a traffic backup. While there weren't many cars in line, it was the police cars with flashing lights that sent my heart into my throat.

"What is it? Some sort of a checkpoint?" I asked as Kristoff opened his window and leaned out to see what was happening.

His expression was grim as he sat back down. "Cordon. It's likely they're checking ID for everyone leaving the town."

"But we're not leaving," I pointed out.

Kristoff grunted and took a left turn into a bank parking lot. "No, but this road leads out of town. Get out. We'll walk the rest of the way."

"But I was enjoying the ride," Agda protested as she crawled out of the backseat.

"Are you sure that's wise?" I asked Kristoff as I got out, noting that the police were also stopping people on the street.

"We don't have much of a choice. This way." He flipped up the collar of his coat and angled his hat, moving immediately to the side of the street that was in the shade.

The ghosts came back from absolute invisibility to their normal nearly translucent state, trailing behind in an odd sort of train as I followed Kristoff through winding streets. I was worried about an intersection right outside of the church. Five roads met there in a cobblestone square, and the police, if they were searching people, would be sure to have someone there.

Kristoff didn't even pause as we reached the five-cornered intersection. He wrapped one arm around me, pulling me up close to his body, his head angled toward mine as if he was murmuring sweet nothings. The brim of his hat was most effective in blocking the view of our faces. "Do not say anything if they stop us. Just act giddy."

"That's not going to be any problem," I answered, the nearness of him suddenly causing memories of the night before to come flooding back with vibrant intensity. My legs felt more than a little wobbly as I breathed in the faintly smoky scent that always seemed to be around him. It reminded me of a fall afternoon, with burning leaves tinting the crisp air.