“I will loan you the equipment and check on her, but”—he continued with a sincerely apologetic expression—“she can’t stay here. I have people in and out of here every day with their pets, people who love their furry animals but feel completely threatened by the portion of our population who become furry animals. If just one person saw her, the feds would shut me down within an hour.”

Celia crossed her arms. “This is like the Trail of Tears, what the government did to the Native Americans. They can’t just slaughter us, but they can deny us every basic human right to encourage genocide.”

I went wide-eyed, remembering her college paper on Native Americans. Though it had been a good report on a cause she had felt passionately about even before she became a wære, I feared if she started on that subject, we’d be here forever.

Fortunately, the magnitude of the situation must have left her speechless, because the room was silent except for the sounds of the blood pressure machine starting its cycle. The veterinarian’s office had previously been the site of an urgent-care facility, and Dr. Lincoln had inherited several pieces of equipment left behind in a storage closet. Now, in addition to the BP cuff, Theo had an EKG monitor, some kind of suction device attached to her chest tube, and an IV machine.

Between Johnny’s and Dr. Lincoln’s shoulders, I could see Theo’s face. Unconscious, heavily medicated. Almost dead, because I had asked questions and she had searched for the answers.

“My house,” I said. “We’ll take her there.”

Everyone helped. Even the doctor pitched in. He allowed us to transport her in a horse trailer and then carried the monitors behind Johnny and Erik, who had the difficult task of keeping the backboard level as they took Theo upstairs. Preceding them, I wished I’d changed my sheets this morning, but there was no time to change them now.

“Do you have extra pillows? You’ll want to keep her legs elevated, especially the right one.” Dr. Lincoln checked Theo’s toes as he spoke.

“Why are her casts soft?” Erik asked.

“They’re temporary,” the doctor answered. “When the swelling goes down, I can get regular casts on her.”

Nana finally emerged from her bedroom in her nightgown and robe, got in the middle of the throng of people, and demanded, “What the hell is going on here?”

Johnny stepped toward her. “Red, you’ve got to shuffle some things around in your room so the doc can plug in the monitors. Why don’t I explain this to Demeter while you go do that?”

“Perfect.” I was grateful for something to do and even more grateful to have someone else to deal with Nana.

Dr. Lincoln arranged syringes, medicines, and bandages for Theo on my dresser top. He stressed that we must not exceed the dosages he marked on the bottles. “If she wakes and is in so much pain she’s begging for more, call me,” he said. He plugged in the machines and told Celia and me what beeps were good, and what beeps were bad and what to do about them.

“I’ll stop back tomorrow evening—or, I mean, later tonight—and bring a feeding tube and change the catheter bag. I can’t guarantee what time, but you should have enough supplies.”

When Dr. Lincoln left, Celia came to me. “We’re going to go home,” she said, “but we are coming right back.”

“Celia, you don’t have to do that.”

“Yes, we do. Three weeks is a long time, and you can’t do it alone.”

I suddenly realized what an enormous commitment I’d made in offering my place to Theo. I wasn’t a nurse, let alone a full-time caregiver. The idea of getting help was suddenly a very welcome one. If they helped for a day or two, that would be great; if they helped for a week, even better. I’d open my home to them for the duration, if they were willing. With Nana, a puppy, a column to write, and a vampire to assassinate, I was going to need help with Theo. “Okay.”

“We’re going to get some clothes and our sleeping bags, and we will be back. We’ll use our camping gear and take the third floor.”

After what had happened to them while camping, I always marveled that they continued to find any fun in it. “Celia, it’s a floored attic! Take the empty bedroom.”

“You take it.”

“I’ll sleep on the couch.”

She leaned in closer and said quietly, “Johnny wouldn’t miss an opportunity to spend more time with you, so of course he says he’s staying too. He can have the sofa. You better have your own room. We have an air mattress at home for guests. We’ll bring that for you.”

“But—”

“No ‘buts.’” She hugged me and I smelled her orchid perfume again.

“I’m so grateful that you guys want to help. I know Theo is too.”

“With four of us, the shifts will be easy. We can make Johnny cook.”

“Johnny cooks?”

She pulled away. “Fantastically.”

“Will my kitchen survive?”

Celia pointed her finger at me. “Be careful, or you won’t want him to leave. I often come home to find the band having a songwriting bash in my kitchen. Stage equipment on one side, simmering pots of scrumptious soups or a roast on the other—well, you wouldn’t want a roast, but believe me, you won’t go hungry.”

Johnny was much more than I had given him credit for possibly being.

“We’ll be back soon,” she said, and left.

Alone, I stood at the end of the bed watching Theodora, and the weight of my actions hit home like a stake in my heart. Here was a life before me, and the thread of this life was in the Fates’ hands. Were they twining it thicker, or were their scissors ready to sever it? I stared at my hands. Could I intentionally sever such a thread?

I shut my eyes and let the tears fall.

All I could do was cry for Theo and pray for her. With careful attention not to invoke any power that might affect Theo, I said,

“Goddess hear my humble appeal,

Grant Theo strength enough to heal.

Restore her body; give grace to her.

Make her aches and pains fewer.

With perfect love, make her new.

Right this wrong, I beseech you.”

After repeating it thrice, I ended with the standard, “As I will, so mote it be.”

Johnny’s boots sounded on the steps; a soft creak came as he leaned on the door frame.

“Your grandma is such a cool old lady.”

I snorted. “I never knew she had a split personality.”

“Huh?”

“She likes you. I’ve always been a burden.”

He came forward a step. “But she’s staying with you, right? Not vice versa.”

“Tables have turned, I guess, but she doesn’t want to acknowledge it.”

“Old people never like things to change. It’s like when they can’t move fast anymore, they can feel the world moving past them more and more. They’re afraid of being left behind.” He paused, easing further into the room. “I want to stay and help too, if you’ll let me.” He put his hands up innocently. “I’ll behave. I swear.”

“Of course.” I shifted to face Theo.

He stepped closer. “Red? What’s with the cash?”

I turned back with my eyebrows high and my mouth open. No words came out, though. Just a sigh that thought about turning into a maniacal giggle.

I couldn’t just casually say, “Oh, it’s money for an assassination hit on a vampire.” He’d never believe me. He’d laugh and ask for the truth. I shut my mouth and turned back to Theo without answering. My arms folded over my chest.

All threads and all guilt aside, what had I been thinking, agreeing to a hit on a vampire? I’d decided to do it for Beverley, for that sweet little suffering girl, but noble ideas weren’t good enough here. I am an idiot. Goliath had tried to kill someone who had only researched him a little.

My gut was so cold and I was so mad at myself.

“I guess I shouldn’t have left it on the bike,” Johnny said, joining me at the foot of the bed. “I figured it was like Avon or something.”

It took me a heartbeat to grasp that he was still talking about the duffel.