“I’m not sure I like how zen you are about his,” Matt said as they walked. “The bastard tried to kill all of us.”
“And now we’ve got some kind of advantage,” Thom said. “That would be why I’m zen. He needs us more than we need him. If we decide we want to give him peace, then it’s going to be peace with conditions—including that he stays the hell out of our way and warns us of any nastiness coming well before it hits our wards and our walls.”
“I guess I hadn’t thought of it that way.” Matt shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacket to ward off the morning chill.
“Clearly not.” Thom smiled. “Don’t worry. You’ll learn.” And probably faster, now, if the visions are true. We’ll have to push, if I’m right. I don’t want to be right, though. Thom’s lips thinned momentarily and he glanced away, hoping neither man saw the expression.
If either of them did, they had the grace—or the sense—to keep their mouths shut.
“J.T. is avoiding me,” Phelan announced as they reached the nearest corner of the tents they were still using to house supplies and additional workspace. “I’m not entirely sure why.”
“Are you sure it doesn’t have anything to do with the ghost that was following you around?” Matt asked. “I’m guessing she’s not here right now because my skin’s not crawling.”
Phelan’s gaze grew distant and he shook his head. “She’s keeping her distance, watching from afar. It’s probably better that way.” He glanced at Thom. “But she said she’s not leaving until the children are born.”
“You mean Neve and Cameron’s baby and Tala’s twins?”
“She mentioned yours, too,” Phelan said.
Thom tried to smother a frown. That was something I didn’t want to hear. “We’re not even sure that’s happening anytime soon. She could be here for a long time.”
“For J.T.’s sake, I hope not,” Phelan said with a rueful smile. “For some reason, I don’t think he’s a fan—Marin, either.”
Thom winced. “She might not be, but that might have something to do with the implication that she’s pregnant.”
“Is she?”
“I don’t know,” Thom said honestly. At least not yet.
Phelan made an interested noise and shook his head. “I suppose we’ll know soon enough.”
Matt glanced at his brother-in-law with one brow arched slightly. Thom shook his head.
There’s nothing to say or do until we know for sure. Thom ducked past the shelves draped in tarps that housed the unsorted books that had been rescued from the library—a project Marin had been working on with Jacqueline and Carolyn these days, especially on the days when the weather had turned foul. He could smell breakfast already, which meant that the rest of camp would be rousing themselves soon.
“Who was awake?” Matt asked behind him, clearly talking to Phelan.
“Tala and Marin when I left,” Phelan said. “Probably a few more, now. They may or may not have mentioned Cariocecus’s offer to whoever else is up. I didn’t tell them not to.”
“Maybe you should have,” Thom said.
“How do you figure?”
Thom smiled over his shoulder at Phelan. “You’re not worried about how they’ll spin it?”
Phelan shrugged. “I have no real feelings one way or the other when it comes to whether we take his offer or we don’t. That’s up to you guys.”
“None, huh?” Something about that surprises me.
“Not really. It’s your decision.” He spread his hands. “This was your home before it became mine. The choice is yours about whether or not you want to deal with him squatting.”
Matt made a face. “Interesting way of putting it, Phelan.”
The once-druid laughed. “Glad you approve. It felt like a good way to describe it.”
“It is,” Thom agreed as they drew within sight of the fire. “True and accurate. It’s something we’ll have to discuss when we make the decision.” And I have to hope that no one comes to this with their decision already made.
Beyond maybe my wife, that is.
