[This post is from Matt’s point of view.]
Hecate looked at Matt and he stared back at her as his heart stutter-stepped.
You were starting to come up with a plan, he reminded himself. Your plan involved going up against them, right? He sucked in a breath and slowly sat down, wrapping both hands around his mug of coffee.
I don’t even know what I wanted to do anymore. It wasn’t a good plan. It was insane. Thank god I didn’t tell her. Thank god.
“You said they’re marching on them right now,” Matt said, feeling as dazed as he sounded, his head spinning dizzily as he tried to piece together his scattering thoughts. “We’ll never make it in time.”
Hecate reached over and freed his hand from his coffee mug, her fingers wrapping around his and squeezing hard. “I might be able to get us there,” she said, her voice hoarse. “I—it would be hard, but I might be able to do it. When I brought you here it took a lot out of me. I won’t be of much use once we’re there.”
Matt’s lips thinned, his heart skipping a beat even as his stomach dropped, his throat tightening so much it was hard to breathe.
What choice do I have? Give up my family? I couldn’t live with myself if I—if we—just stood by and did nothing when there’s something we can do to help. His hand tightened around hers.
“How bad would it be?” he asked, looking at her, hoping that she would be able to read in his gaze all the questions he left unasked.
Will it hurt you so badly that we wouldn’t be able to fix it, something that would never heal? Will you still be able to defend yourself if we go? How big of a risk are we talking here?
Will I lose you if we do this?
“I don’t think it’ll kill me if I do it again,” she said, then gave him a weak, sad smile. She reached up to stroke his cheek as he shot her a stricken look, feeling sick. “Don’t look at me like that, Matt,” she whispered, her fingers warm against his skin. “I’ll be fine. This is something we have to do. You and I both know it. Hell. Maybe it’ll help them believe that I’m sorry in ways that words wouldn’t ever be able to convey.”
“You don’t have to take the risk,” he said, choking on the lie even as he forced it out.
She leaned in, her lips brushing his. “I do,” she whispered. “We both know there’s not another way.”
I have to—
“Get your warhammer,” she said gently. “It’s time we go to war.”
