Chapter Eleven

You can hear the blood in your veins, if you listen varicosely.

Waking was a slow and arduous process. Eva felt like she was swimming through cotton, but at the same time she couldn't determine if she needed to go up or down, over or out. Thick and heavy, her eyelids fought both opening and staying closed.

"Water," she whispered through cracked lips, not even recognizing her own raspy, torn voice, hoping whoever was in the room would recognize the word. Thankfully, a straw was instantly placed between her lips, and the cool, refreshing, minty water soothed her lips and throat. A gentle hand wiped away the liquid that dripped down the side of her face, and she sighed with the contentment and coolness of it. Perhaps she didn't need to open her eyes after all, and could just remain here in this bliss halfway between sleeping and awake. Floating, cool, and pain free.

"Eva," a voice prodded, insistent, annoying. "Eva? Eva, it's time to wake up."

She wanted to hurl a pillow at the offending voice, but her arms were too heavy to move. Eva felt the straw being placed between her lips, and again she drank, this time more deeply than before, and again the offending drips were wiped away. "Thanks," she muttered a bit begrudgingly, because surely the same person who gave her water was demanding she open her eyes.

Then she remembered: she wasn't dead! Pushing the cotton out of her way, she struggled to find her way to the surface toward the demanding, ridiculous voice. Opening her eyes, she was unable to see at first; it was too bright.

"Let me dim that," said the voice, sounding farther away than before. The lights went dimmer in the room.

Eva's eyes no longer had to struggle to focus but still felt too heavy to keep open for more than a few seconds.

"Is that better?" asked the voice, closer again.

Eva nodded in affirmation, struggling to lift her head to see who spoke to her.

"Hold on." Arms reached around her and sat her up, clearing her head more and bringing the room into focus. "Easy. You've been out for a while."

"Oliver?" She looked blindly toward the voice that had brought her from her slumber. Memories rushed in. Is he real? Is this all real?

"I'm right here, next to you." Eva felt his cool hands gently untangle and brush the hair off her face. "Do you need more water?"

Shaking her head no, she tried once again to open her eyes and keep them open. It was easier this time, and she could now see the fuzzy outline of Oliver's head and dark hair. After a few more seconds, his features came more clearly into view as he moved closer, a solemn, serious look on his unsmiling face and worry lines surrounding his eyes, moving up his forehead.

"Keep frowning like that, and you'll get wrinkles," she told the immortal, who gave a small, almost angry chortle. "We cut it close, didn't we?"

"We did," he quietly replied, nodding slowly and repeatedly. "We really did."

"So, this is your bedroom? Some guys will do anything to get a girl in bed." The electric shades were drawn tight, and Eva couldn't tell if it was day or night. Black floor-to-ceiling drapes with gold lattice framed the darkened windows, contrasting greatly with the 1950s floral and lace in her own bedroom. Even in the dim light, she could see the piles of black and white wax that were all that remained of something like twenty candles originally on every flat surface of the emerald-green room. Cinnamon, if she were to guess, due to the circumstances, if she remembered a bit of Gram's rambling instructions correctly.

Eva grimaced, realizing the candles were definitely not a part of Oliver's regular decor. A pile of blankets covered a chair in the corner. Mixed with the cinnamon, she caught a hint of sage and other unidentifiable, burned herbs, which seemed to permeate the air as well as the pillow her head lay on. "No offense, but your room smells like my grandma. Like, so much so."

The pile of blankets in the corner began moving, and Eva slowly turned her head a few degrees, giving her eyes a chance to refocus on the movement. First one long, thin arm appeared, and then a full head of wavy red hair.

"Big stretch," the woman's voice said.

Is that Delta/Danika? What was her name?

"Why does a stretch feel so much better when you say ‘big stretch' with it, Boss Man?"

Eva felt rather than heard Oliver's low rumble in reaction, hitting her low in the stomach and causing an unexpected, but not unpleasant, lurch deep within her. "Quit calling me Boss Man. And no, this isn't my room; it's a guest room on my property. It was closer," he admitted from next to her ear.

The red-haired woman finished tossing the blankets on the floor and stood up, stretching again with both arms above her head. "Argh, rough night or two or three, wasn't it?" Her black tank top edged up over her hips, and Eva glimpsed a tattoo on the flash of white skin just above her black leggings that were riding low on her hips. When she finished stretching like a cat, she pulled her leggings up and her tank top down, before making her way to Eva's bedside, solidly hip checking Oliver until he pushed his chair away from Eva's bed and stood up with another grumble.

"Hey, sweetie, remember me? Probably not. I'm Daphne." Leaning in closer, she pried each of Eva's eyes open one at a time, taking her time examining each closely, her eyes flitting around as if the windows to her soul would release their secrets.

"It's Delta," Oliver corrected with an air of impatience. "Seriously, why do you do this, witch?"

Delta rolled her eyes as she continued her thorough but gentle exam of Eva. "Ugh, what was my mom thinking? I'm literally named after a wetland. She might as well have called me Swamp." Tossing a look at Oliver, she drawled, "Tell me, Boss Man. Why can't I try out a few names for myself, especially when I'm called on my one day off?" She raised her hand, cutting off any attempt of a rebuttal. "My one day off for an emergency of epic proportions, the one day I can stay up all night playing D and D with the peeps—and in the middle of an epic battle fighting a demogorgon. They were probably all wiped out without me there."

She ended with a huff of disgust, continuing her exam downward, pressing on Eva's stomach and ending with the bitten calf, which thankfully no longer burned like hellfire. In fact, it was only Delta's gentle prodding that reminded Eva that she was wounded there. "Besides, maybe I love hearing you say my name, Boss?" she added brashly with a cocky grin.

"Looks good; looks great, in fact. First, it smells like your granny in here because I'm using earth magic like her, so thank you and you're welcome for the whole healing and saving your life thing on my day off." She waved her hand over Eva. "So anyway, what are you? I can't quite put my finger on it." Finally taking a breath, she cocked her head as she studied Eva, waiting for an answer.

Eva took a wary glance at Oliver. She knew this woman had helped her, but who in the heck was this crazy, weird girl Oliver had delivered her to? "Um, I'm a barista? A human? A human barista. Sometimes I take college classes, and I do a bit of writing," she amended, because omission wasn't really lying. She did dabble in writing as well.

A dubious expression crossed the petite redhead"s pale face, frowning as she looked back and forth between the two of them, popping a hand on her hip. "Yeah, no. That's what you do, not what you are." Delta was younger than Eva had first thought, at least a decade younger than her own twenty-eight years. Not a single wrinkle or crinkle marred her smooth face, not even a laugh line, despite what appeared to be an extensive healing repertoire that included possible concussions, road rash, and big ole flaming demon bites.

Now the young red-head glanced at Oliver, who refused to meet either of their eyes as he studied an apparently interesting spot on the opposite wall. "What do you know, Boss Man? You're looking mighty suspect. And you, Miss Eva, are definitely not human—or not completely human. That hellhound bite would have killed you dead if you were just human. Nothing I could've done would have saved you. And this wound"—she tapped the side of the bed near Eva's calf, causing her to flinch despite the fact that it didn't hurt her—"is healing much faster than it would on a shifter, and even most fae. I gave you a boost to get you started, but much of this is you. So, I'm asking you again, what are you? This whole debacle messed up my day off, I'll remind you, and do you have any idea how hard it is to coordinate days off for a decent game of Dungeons and Dragons?"

Eva swallowed. Was she supposed to answer the irate redhead who barely looked out of her teens? "I"ve never played Dungeons and Dragons, so I guess I don't know. I've always been human." Anytime now would be a good time for Oliver to jump in with his brooding voice, agree that she was human, and quiet down this prodigal teenage witch doctor. But he still remained silent for someone who, in the short time since she'd met him, appeared to have an opinion on everything.

Gram had always said she was special, but what parent or grandparent didn't think their little rug-rat was special? And what else could she possibly be? Just learning that vampires and witches were real was pretty mind blowing—if it were, in fact, true—but what had Delta said about shifters and fae? Maybe she was still in a coma, a dream, a coma-induced dreamland. Clearly, she had a fairly active imagination.

After all, her dreams had inspired books that had made her quite comfortable financially. Could she be dreaming and not realize it? Maybe she was still dying from an accident, and this was an elaborate hallucination created by her mind to protect herself. What if a car had hit her on her ride home from work, and everything after that moment had occurred in dreamland to hide from her the fact that in reality she was dying? Wrinkling her forehead, she recalled that she'd read about that. Or maybe it was a movie? People living entire lives within a few minutes as they died, completely blissful and unaware.

"It's all real," Mr. Tall-and-Broody finally broke his silence in a dry flat tone. "You're not hallucinating or dying. Not anymore."

Eva turned an incredulous look toward him, squinting at him, and focused her thoughts to mentally scream, "In case you can read my mind, don't. Just don't!"

Aloud, she said, "Maybe you could tell me what I am? Because to be honest, this is all one big, crazy mess to me. Until last night or whatever night, my life has been normal." This wasn't feeling like a dream. The aches in her body said otherwise, and her vision had cleared out any dream-like qualities, but still she couldn't help the sardonic tone in her unbelieving voice.

"Oh, girl, I was hoping you would ask me." Dropping the firm tone, Delta moved to the bottom of the bed, bouncing down on it, yet careful not to hit Eva.

Oliver opened his mouth to intercede, but Delta again waved him away.

He continued, "If I'm Boss . . . Man . . . why don't I feel too much like I'm in charge of all of this? And I've explained everything to her. A lot of things. Some of the things," he amended before shrugging and lifting a sardonic lip to encourage Delta to continue. "As you were."

Certain that the sparky witch had a reply, Eva's head volleyed back and forth as the two bickered. Could they be siblings? Could a witch and a vampire be siblings? A witch and a vampire walk into a bar . . . No, no, two siblings suffering from a mass delusion. Wait! If she wasn't in a coma, there were other people in the house.

"Because, Mr. Oliver Patrick, you pay me—all of us—damn good money to find out things. And this is something I can definitely find out."

Oliver stuck his hands in his pockets and again slowly nodded at the witch. He still wore the clothes they'd traveled in, and the once crisp, button-up white shirt was now wrinkled, missing a few buttons, and covered in spots of mud and blood. Her blood. She'd almost died last night. Was it last night? Delta had made it sound like there had been several sleepless nights. She still wasn't sure how long she'd been here, but really, did it matter?

"You're both giving me a headache." Pointing a finger at Eva, Oliver injected, "You're not dead or dying. This is real." Gesturing between himself and Delta, he added in a slow, firm, nearly angry tone, "We. Are. Not. Siblings. No relation at all, no respect apparently, either. That one is not a child, not a teenager. I don't employ children. And I can assure you she is neither and is, in fact, older than—"

"Hush," Delta's voice cut through the room with a crack. "You of all people should be old enough not to discuss a lady's age."

Mouth opening and closing like a flounder out of water, uncertain what part of that to even start on, Eva decided to ignore him and his tone, as well as Delta's response. Who needed all that attitude anyway? Bestowing what she hoped was a gracious smile toward the not-a-teenager, she said, "Yes, help me. I want to know who I am. Writing with a dull pencil is pointless. I need to know everything." Who was she to judge someone for not looking their age? She herself still got carded regularly and could probably shave a couple of years off if pressed.

"First of all, I want to get rid of all this." Delta gestured over Eva's entire body, causing Eva to pull the soft blanket tighter around her, covering herself under its protective layers.

"All of what?" Step one already confused the hell out of Eva's brain. She really, really hoped Delta didn't want her to get naked. Glancing at Oliver, she felt her cheeks heat up.

"Don't overwhelm her, witch," Oliver demanded. "She's still looking a bit flushed."

Eva closed her eyes, thinking, Sure, now he speaks. Couldn't she just die now? It would be simpler and much less . . . everything.

"Oooh, someone still feeling like the hero? You've saved her, Ollie. That's the easy part." Delta clasped her hands together in mock awe, fluttering her lashes toward the glowering vampire. "This spell or charm that's hiding you: I can feel it all over you, and it was done with good intent, but I didn't examine it since it had nothing to do with your injuries. I would never, ever examine someone or remove something without consent," Delta solemnly promised Eva.

"Thank you?" Overwhelmed, Eva didn't even understand the words coming from Delta's mouth. "Are you speaking Latin again? Wait . . . you spoke Latin to me before? How did I—"

"You're right. You're so good at this." Delta giggled, as if this were the most normal conversation in the world. "We're going to have so much fun. But first: is it okay if I check out your aura and this spell? I did check out your aura just a tiny bit before when I was healing you, but those were extenuating circumstances with you being unconscious and almost dead."

Delta animated her words with hand waves so violent that Eva couldn't even attempt to track the movement and fought the urge to hold them in place or duck so she wouldn't get hit by the flaying girl.

"Witch, calm yourself and focus." Force punctuated Oliver"s words and took away any doubt who really stood in charge here, at least for the moment.

Inhaling and exhaling slowly for several beats, Eva watched as Delta found her center before telling her, "Do what you need to do to figure this out, because in the last twenty-four hours, my life has gotten crazy."

Incredulously, Delta sat speechless. "Oh, honey . . ." She squeezed Eva's leg as she stretched out beside her face to face. "It's been more than twenty-four hours. You were out for almost three days. Only the one day was my day off; I've been firmly on the clock since then." She paused a beat before adding, "And whatever is going on with you has been happening a lot longer than that; you've just not known." Closing her eyes, she moved uncomfortably closer to Eva, and then appeared to just listen.

"Your grandmother was an earth witch. This I know."

"In the spirit of honesty, adoptive grandmother."

Delta's eyes flew open, nodding speculatively. "That does change things a bit, but it also makes more sense. I can feel magic on you, in you, a part of you. But at the same time, it's foreign. And your aura is muddy, like, muddy, muddy. I've only seen this when someone charmed themselves hidden, and it was never this murky. May I lay my hands on you?"

Consenting again, Eva nodded, and Delta immediately placed her hands on the closest arm and leg while closing her eyes. Eva waited, looking away from the silent witch, while holding herself completely still so as not to disrupt whatever it was that Delta did.

Oliver remained seated a few feet from the bed, back stiff, but leaning slightly forward as if prepared to launch from the chair at a second's notice. Eva realized that his disheveled, bloody appearance didn't mean he'd spent the night by her side, but in fact had spent at least two full days next to her without taking even a moment to change. His eyes moved away from Delta's work and held hers captive in stony silence as they waited for Delta's analysis.

"I've got something." Delta's soft announcement broke off their contact as they both turned toward her. "You've definitely had a concealment spell done on you. And it's still earth magic, mostly green with a touch or so of gray. How long ago did you say your grandmother passed through the veil?"

"It's been about ten years now."

"Did she give you a talisman to carry?" At Eva"s confused look, Delta explained with an air of impatience, "A crystal, a necklace, a ring"—back to waving her hands—"any sort of jewelry, even a button?"

Understanding dawned on Eva. "Something that would have held the spell?"

Delta clapped her hands in excitement for her best pupil. "Held the spell or really a focal point to enhance or direct it, but potato, potahto. Anything you can think of?"

"When I went to live with her, I had a lot of nightmares. Bad nightmares. Gram gave me a few things: A stone—black jade—to wear, a dream catcher for my room, and a pen; one I could write with." Eva made handwriting motions with her right hand and uncomfortably cleared her throat. "She told me to never take the jade off, but after . . . after I lost her, I did. I tossed it in my purse for a while." She'd carried it around with her for a few years, not bearing to look at it, to remember the love and warmth her gram had poured into it.

"And then one day, I added it to a pile of other stones. Any of the interesting ones I found, I put in a little bowl and kept on my dresser. Whenever I found a pretty stone, I liked to imagine it was Gram saying hi." At the memory of her home, sudden panic overtook Eva; she should be at home. Why had she let Oliver take her away? It wasn't safe here!

Chest tightening in panic, Eva"s eyes took in the room, searching for an escape route. She needed to get home. Now. The overwhelming desire to jump from the window and run home nearly overtook her despite the fact that she had no idea where she was or how far or where home was. Lifting herself from the bed brought Oliver closer to her side in the blink of an eye. He held onto her firmly. His touch brought a flood of calmness through her, but the desire to get home didn't fade entirely.

"Oh, wow! That thread just came alive!" Delta had been listening intently, but as panic took deeper hold of Eva, she reached out to a spot that as far as Eva could tell was just empty space. Pinching her forefinger and thumb together, she twisted while uttering, "Dimittus. Confractus. Libartus."

The tightening panic in Eva's chest began to dissolve as Delta spoke the words.

"What just happened?" Oliver demanded, for the moment not content to be on the sideline, and not quite loosening the hold he had on her.

Ignoring him, Delta gently spoke to Eva. "Honey, have you ever left your house or the area around your house?"

"Well, yes, of course. I go all over the place in town, and for a few years, I went to community college about ten miles away." Triumphantly, she added, "and I've been to Chicago a few times."

"Were you ever able to stay the night away, or did you need to get back home immediately?" Delta continued speaking gently, sympathetically, as if to a child.

"I could have stayed the night, but I didn't need to." Indignation flashed through Eva. She wasn't a child! Like a punch to the gut, realization strummed through her. No, she hadn't been able to stay long each visit to Chicago. Any visit had been punctuated with the work she needed to do, and then she'd gone straight home. She didn't always plan it, but she would worry that maybe she'd forgotten to lock up the house, no reason not to drive the few hours, or perhaps they would need her to fill in for someone at work the next morning. Silly reasons, in hindsight, but at the moment they'd given her pressing needs to get home. "I just like to sleep in my own bed." It was a feeble excuse in a long line of excuses to go home after squeezing in an afternoon coffee shop visit or maybe finishing up a day at a museum.

"Eva, that strand connected you to your home. Think of it like a tether tying you to your home. You might be able to stretch it out, but the farther you get, the tighter it tries to pull you back. However, I don't think you'd have been able to travel far enough, fast enough to have it snap and set you free. More likely it would have snapped you back home if you'd fought it."

Delta gently gave Eva permission to forgive herself for not being able to fight an unknown spell. Or was it a curse?

"However, that's not what is muddling your aura, but it is one of several threads that have been placed on you. Several, as in hundreds, perhaps."

With horror, Eva thought of all the trips she'd hoped to take and some she'd even planned, from camping trips ruined by broken water heaters, to road trips thwarted by flat tires. Flat tires on every vehicle of every person planning to road trip with her. One year, after the success of her first book and she had extra funds, she'd even created an itinerary for a trip to visit London.

Her computer crashed and destroyed the plans and then, when she bought a new one, she'd just forgotten about it. Forgotten she'd wanted to see the castles, go up in the Eye, see the yeomen! Forgotten she'd wanted to have tea and biscuits with clotted cream and stand among the stones at Stonehenge. "Did my gram do this? Did she do this to me?"

Delta sadly and slowly nodded. "I think she did, and I think she did more than that. There are more threads to trace and destroy, but all of this has taken everything out of me. The healing, and the single thread. Your grandmother was very powerful," she admitted, "gone ten years and that thread still stood active and strong as if it had been formed yesterday. Clearly, it"s tied to something in the house or maybe even the house itself, but that's some mega power."

Looking intently at the young woman, Eva now realized she stood on the brink of exhaustion. Dark circles encompassed her eyes, showing strongly against her pale skin. Clearly, her energy waned, and she hadn't gotten enough sleep in the pile of blankets in the corner. For days, the woman had sent all of her healing energy into a complete stranger, and even now at the seeming snap of her fingers, she still used the last of her energy attempting to heal and help her.

Eva sat her own unusually pale, nearly translucent hand on Delta. "Go rest. And thank you for everything. I'm alive. Everything else can wait. I've had all this going on for many years, so we can wait a few more hours or days, or whatever you need. Then you—we—can figure all this out together. I don't need to leave now. I can stay."

"Let's get you to your room, witch." Oliver spoke gruffly, but Eva recognized that he cared about the young witch in his employment.

Delta pulled herself into a sitting position on the side of the bed. Her last act in releasing the thread had drained both of them, and Eva doubted the girl could stand herself up. Oliver hoisted her to her feet, then half carried, her half led her from the room for much needed rejuvenation.

Oliver's low tones whispered to her as he left the room, although Eva couldn't hear what he was saying and didn't hear if Delta responded. Hopefully, someone would treat Delta to a cup of rejuvenating tea and tuck her into bed. The girl—no, the woman—she mentally amended, deserved it.

Although he wasn't gone long, exhausted, Eva found herself drifting off to sleep again, waking back up as he reentered the room. Oliver stood across the room in his grubby, battle-worn clothing, watching her. Eva felt like the obvious needed to be stated. "You're filthy and you probably stink. Don't you have a shower around this dump? And maybe some clean clothes?"

His sexy laugh undid her. Sticking his hands in his pockets, he nodded slowly. "I'm sure I could scrounge up some clean clothes and a shower. I'd hate to offend your sensibilities and all that." His laugh was nice and hit Eva low, deep in her stomach. She'd done that, brought out a genuine laugh that had caused his deep blue eyes to sparkle.

Standing in place looking down, he sighed and closed those blue eyes briefly before meeting her own eyes intently. "I'm so sorry this happened to you. If I'd ever thought that you or anyone would have been in so much danger, I would have done things differently, taken more precautions, and brought more people. Anything. I deeply regret that you got hurt so badly on my watch."

Incredulously, Eva opened her month and then closed it before opening it again. Ugh, this was becoming a common reaction from her. "My God, if I wasn't so sure I'd fall over right now, I'd stand up and smack you in the head. Sounds like those creatures would've found me regardless of you showing up. In fact, if you and your particular brand of crazy hadn't shown up, I'd probably be dead now. Dead. They were coming for me anyway. You saved me. I don't even know what else to say, except thank you and please, for the love of God, go shower!"

Closing her eyes and laying her head back deeper into his pillow, she wondered if he would respond. Damn, these pillows are amazing. Maybe when this was all done, I'll ask him where he got them from.

Silence followed. Then the click of a door that she assumed led to the on-suite bathroom. As the water turned on, never opening her eyes, she smiled and indulged herself a bit as she imagined him undressing for the shower. Just before sleep overtook her, Eva wondered why he hadn't gone to his own room to shower.