[This post is from Phelan’s point of view.]
For a few seconds, J.T. just stared at her as if disbelieving, as if the words she’d just spoken didn’t make sense. Hecate reached for his hand, squeezed his fingers, and he sucked in a breath, eyes closing.
“I know,” she said. “I feel it, too. But losing yourself over it? It’s not worth it, J.T. We’ll do what we promised one way or another. She’ll understand. She always has—and I know that she will this time, too.” Hecate glanced toward the others. “We’ve agreed to it.”
Phelan nodded slowly. “We have,” he confirmed quietly. “And we keep our promises.”
“That we do,” Marin said, sitting down next to Jacqueline. “We have thus far and we’ll keep on doing it as long as I have anything to say about it.”
“But when?” J.T. asked as his eyes blinked open. “When? And how, dammit? We don’t even—”
“We’ll figure out a way to find her,” Hecate said, her voice firm and certain. It shot shivers down Phelan’s spine, not from any sort of fear or memory, but because it was unexpected and powerful.
Being here has been good for her, I guess. Even when she’d been attacking them, been acting the enemy against he and his family, there had always been a thread of something he couldn’t quite put his finger on at the time but now recognized for what it was—uncertainty and fear.
He watched her for a moment, taking a slow sip of coffee before he turned to fill two more mugs, one for her and another for Marin, smiling slightly to himself. Truth be known, he was much happier with her on their side than the alternative.
The long centuries that had gone before had just been too hard—for all of them, it seemed. Now, times were different, and it was better that way.
Far, far better.