Hull cast a spell, snarling the words. But nothing happened. Jeremy swung Hull around. As the sorcerer flew off his feet, he cast again, flicking his fingers. A simple knockback spell, but it worked. Jeremy lost his grip on Hull’s arm.

As Jeremy stumbled back, I clumsily dove to protect him. We both hit the ground. I turned to see Hull’s back disappearing into the forest.

Jeremy went after him, but a moment later the squeal of tires and horns told me Hull had reached the road. Jeremy couldn’t follow him there.

I paused for just a second, then raced back to Clay.

I remember that headlong rush as a blur, tree branches whipping my face, vines grabbing my feet. Nick and Tolliver were crouched beside Clay. His eyes were still closed.

A cold nose pressed my palm, as Jeremy moved up beside me. As I swayed, I reached for him, my fingers deep in the fur around his neck, grabbing him for balance as my knees gave way and everything went dark.

If

ON THE TRIP BACK, I CAUGHT SNATCHES OF CONVERSATION. I struggled to follow it, only to hear the words that would let me fall back to sleep. At last they came: Clay was alive. Still unconscious, and burning up with fever, but alive.

I drifted back to sleep.

When I awoke, my first thought was that I was in a hospital bed. The sheets were cool and crisp, the air around me equally cold, blinds drawn, lights out, room blanketed in the eerie hush reserved for those who are recovering or dying, the only sounds the whir of the air-conditioning fan. The only thing lacking was the stink of disinfectant and overcooked food.

As I roused myself, I dimly heard Jeremy’s voice in the next room, urgent and frustrated. I jumped up. My whole body screamed in protest and I froze, hovering there. Had I been hurt? No. There was a cut on my hand, but the protest was from pure exhaustion, my body having tasted rest and screaming for more. I started sinking back into the covers-

Clay.

I scrambled up. A hand closed on my bare arm.

“It’s okay,” Nick whispered from beside the bed. “Lay back down. Rest.”

“W-where’s Clay?”

“He’s fi-” Nick stopped himself, as if unable to force the lie out. “He’s…okay. Jeremy’s looking after him. And that doctor, Tolliver.”

I tried to get up again, but Nick’s grip tightened.

“Tolliver?” I said. “How can we be sure-?”

“That he won’t take revenge?” Nick finished. “Because Jeremy trusts him. And Jeremy’s right there, watching every step. If anyone can help Clay, it’s Tolliver. He has every kind of medicine Clay could need. That’s what Zoe does for him-steals supplies so he can give them to shelters and stuff.”

“I want to see-” I began.

“He’s okay, Elena.” Nick’s gaze met mine. “Would I say that if he wasn’t?”

I searched his eyes and saw worry, but not panic.

“If he’s okay, why can’t I see-?”

“Because you’ll get upset and Jeremy has enough to worry about right now.”

I blinked, not sure I’d heard right. Those words and that tone didn’t sound like the Nick I knew. He slid closer, arm going around me.

“I’m right, aren’t I?” he said. “You walk in there and see Clay lying on the bed, unconscious, medical stuff all over, you’re going to get upset. You know they’re working on him, but if it doesn’t look like it-if they just seem to be standing around talking-it’ll drive you nuts. Same with Clay if it was you lying in there.”

“And that will only upset Jeremy more,” I said softly.

“Because he’ll want to do something. Do more. You’re in here with me because Tolliver wants you in bed. Off your feet. What happened today, out there…that’s too much for someone so close to having a baby.” A small smile. “Babies.”

I swallowed. He was right, but there was another, more immediate danger to my babies now: Hull, who could find me, find us, wherever I went. Who was probably outside the hotel right now, watching and waiting-

I shook it off, and turned to the adjoining door, straining to hear Jeremy’s voice.

I longed to race to Clay’s side, but I had to trust that Jeremy would do everything in his power to help Clay, and that was as certain as the sun rising tomorrow morning.

“What-?” My throat was dry and I had to clear it before trying again. “What exactly is wrong? Is it the infection? Are they going to-?”

Nick pressed a glass of water to my lips.

As I drank, he answered. “It is the infection. Or, right now, it’s mostly the fever caused by the infection. They got the fever down enough so it’s not dangerous, but it’s not going away.”

“Did he wake up? Is he conscious?”

Nick hesitated.

“Nick, please,” I said. “Whatever you tell me, it’s not going to be as bad as what I can imagine. I’m only going to get more worked up if I don’t know.”

“He…he was delirious for a bit. They had to sedate him. He’d started to Change and the noise…they had to do it. Now the fever’s down, and Jeremy wants to wake him up so he can have some say in what they decide, but they’re afraid if he does wake up and he’s still delirious-”

“Have some say?” I cut in. “In what they decide about his arm. That’s what you mean, isn’t it? They’re thinking of amputating.”

Someone knocked on the hall door before Nick could answer me. It was Jaime.

“Oh, geez, I’m sorry,” she said when Nick opened the door and she saw me. “I wasn’t sure which room…It’s the next one, right? I needed to speak to Jeremy.”

“Come through here,” I said.

She nodded and took a hesitant step toward the foot of the bed. “How are you? I mean, I know you must not be-I was just going to talk to Jeremy. I had an idea…”

“He’s right in there,” I said.

Nick grabbed the adjoining door. As he swung it open, Antonio turned sharply. He must have been covering it, in case Nick failed to persuade me to stay put. I lifted a hand, and he managed a smile, his face drawn and pale, then ushered Jaime in and closed the door.

I crawled back into bed and pulled up the covers. Nick hovered, as if expecting me to resume our conversation about Clay. I patted the spot beside me and he climbed on, lying atop the covers, back against the headboard. I reached up for his hand. Holding it, I turned onto my side, as if ready to fall back to sleep. Then I closed my eyes and strained to hear the conversation in the other room.

“-idea for catching Matthew Hull,” Jaime was saying.

She was still right on the other side of the door, her voice clear.

“Catching…?” Jeremy’s voice was muffled, then it came closer, as if he was walking toward her. “Oh, yes. Hull. Thank you, Jaime. I’ll…I’ll talk to you about this later. If you need a lift to the airport, Antonio can-”

“Sure,” Antonio cut in. “Whenever you’re ready to go. We should be leaving in a couple of hours ourselves, as soon as Clay’s fever breaks. I can run you over now, or you can wait and catch a ride out with us.”

“You’re…you’re leaving?” Jaime said. “But…you can’t. You need to catch Hull. Not just for Elena. To fix Clay. Close that portal, and Clay will get better.”

“No,” Jeremy said, his voice low, words clipped. “I said that’s what Hull claimed. I’m sorry, Jaime. I don’t mean to be short with you; I’m just angry with myself for letting it go this far. I’m taking Clay and Elena back to Stonehaven, where they should have been all along.”

“But if Hull’s the controller and if you kill him-”

“And if I could wave my magic wand-” Jeremy cut himself off and made a noise almost like a growl. “I’m sorry, Jaime. I don’t want to snap at you. But I’ve had enough of these magical ‘ifs.’ Do this, do that, and everything will be better. From the start, Clay wanted to take Elena back to Stonehaven, batten down the hatches and protect her. We stayed because I thought it was best. Just do this one last thing, and she’ll be safe. But she isn’t. And now he isn’t. And I’m not playing the ‘magic wand’ game anymore. What will cure Clayton is medicine, and what will protect Elena is her Pack. We’re going home, where I can do that.”