Nurses came and went over the next day, checking my vitals and providing me with oxygen, but it was all a hazy blur. It was pretty clear to me that my healing was on the fritz, just the same as my magic, but I couldn’t bring myself to give a shit.

Wesley was dead. What else even mattered?

“Hon,” a young nurse said softly, laying a gentle hand on my arm. “How are you feeling? Your throat is probably going to be sore for a couple of days as the doctors needed to intubate your trachea when you came in, but your airways weren’t compromised. You’re okay to go home now. The doctors have given you the all clear.”

I blinked up at her, hearing her words but just not comprehending what they meant for me. What would I do now? Where would I go? I couldn’t just… go home. It felt wrong on so many levels.

I touched a hand to my throat. It didn’t feel sore, but who the hell cared? My whole damn body was so numb it wouldn’t make a difference.

“Is there someone we can call for you?” the nurse offered, and I nodded automatically.

“Yes,” I croaked, my voice husky from the smoke I’d inhaled. “My…” I trailed off. In this age of mobile phones, I just never really bothered memorizing numbers any more. I had no idea where my own phone had ended up, but without it I didn’t have contact details for any of the guys.

There were only two numbers I knew by heart.

“Can I use a phone?” I asked, hoping to make the calls myself, just in case the first one didn’t pan out.

The nurse chewed her lip, then nodded. She disappeared back out of my curtained cubicle, then returned moments later with a cordless landline.

“Just dial 0 to get out and don’t forget the country code,” she whispered to me, looking like she was doing something illegal. “I can give you a couple of minutes, okay?”

“Sure,” I murmured. “Thanks.”

Giving me a short nod, she left and pulled the curtain closed behind her, leaving me wondering why it was such a big deal for me to make my own calls. Weird.

Quickly I tapped in the first number I’d ever memorized and placed it to my ear. It rang a few times as I picked at my scratchy blanket, then sadly went to voicemail.

“Hey Luce,” I croaked after the beep. “I...” I had no idea what to say next. This was our emergency line which we hadn’t used in years and she might not check it for weeks, so there was no point asking her to come get me. I couldn’t bring myself to tell her about Wesley either, so instead I just sucked in a breath and started again. “I just wanted to call and see how you were doing. Anyway, I’ll try your cell when I get back from Ireland.” My voice cracked with tears as I said this, knowing I’d be returning alone. Instead of sitting there crying down the phone to my best friend’s voicemail, I disconnected the call and wiped my face on the blanket.

There was one other number I knew I could call, but for a moment I debated if I might be better off just going it alone. Somehow my wallet and phone had disappeared into the fire, and my fake passport had been in the now destroyed rental car... but I still might be better off alone.

I drummed my fingertips against the phone a couple of times while I thought. In the end, I dialed the damn number and held it to my ear while holding my breath. It rang three times before I lost my nerve and went to disconnect the call, but just as my thumb brushed the end-call button, he answered.

“Kit? What’s wrong?” The sound of my adoptive father’s voice made me freeze, and I felt the steady track of silent tears rolling down my cheeks. I couldn’t speak. Hearing his voice brought back the memories of our last meeting, which had ended in a high-speed chase through Los Angeles while being shot at. Of course, he already knew it was me, despite calling from an unknown hospital in Ireland. I was the only one with that number.

“Kit, hon,” Jonathan sucked in a breath, then released it in a sigh. “I promise you I had nothing to do with those agents chasing you in LA. They weren’t Omega.”

It was what I’d suspected, but hearing him confirm it for me was like massive weight lifted from my shoulders. Especially now.

“You still tried to blow us up,” I said in a croaky whisper, but he heard me anyway.

“Well, yeah. But I can explain if you’ll let me.” His voice was pleading, and I said nothing. I wanted him to have a good explanation. The idea that my adoptive father had betrayed me was almost too much to accept, and I needed some sort of closure from him. Hopefully he’d have a really great reason why he tried to blow us up, then crashed our car.

“Hon, you called the emergency line. Are you okay? You don’t sound like yourself.” His question was gentle and full of concern, which sent more tears rolling down my face. I needed him to ruffle my hair and tell me to keep my chin up. He was the closest thing I had to a parent... and I really needed him.

“No,” I sniffed. “I need help.”

“Anything, little fox. What do you need?” It was the perfect response, and my cold heart warmed just a fraction.

“I just...” I paused to clear my throat. “I need you to get a message to River for me. I don’t have my phone or my wallet or...” I trailed off as my throat thickened with tears again. “Can you do that?”

“Kit,” Jonathan sounded pained, “I can try and send an encrypted message for Wesley to intercept again—”

“No,” I cut him off. “That won’t... I mean, he c-can’t...” Words failed me, and I needed to move the phone away from my face while I sobbed for a moment.

“Okay, something is really wrong. I’m coming to get you, okay?” My adoptive dad had his no-nonsense voice on, but really, I didn’t want to argue with him.

“Okay,” I squeaked back, sniffing. “They’re discharging me today, so I’ll go back to the guest house to get my—our—things.” The nurse twitched the curtain aside and gave me a clear hurry-up look, so I quickly rattled off the name and address of where Wes and I had been staying.

“Got it,” Jonathan confirmed. “I’ll take the jet and be there in twelve hours. Just hang tight, hon. I’m coming.”

When the call disconnected, the most dreadful sense of hope invaded me. Despite the fact that my soul was dying inside and every mention or thought of Wesley felt like a hot knife slicing through my flesh, my dad might not be the asshole I thought he was.

“Thanks,” I whispered, handing the phone back to the nurse. “Is it possible to get a ride back to where I’m staying? The cops said my purse was lost in the fire, so I’m a bit stuck.”

She gave me a pitying smile and nodded. “My shift ends in twenty minutes; I can drop you off on my way home.”

“No.” I shook my head. “You don’t need to do that. I just meant if I could get a taxi or something and then pay when we get there.” I was pretty sure I still had some euros sitting on the bedside table that had been pulled out of my pocket at some point.

“It’s no bother.” She smiled with warmth. “I live in the next village anyway. How about you get dressed and I’ll come back and get you when I’m done?”

She didn’t wait for me to answer before disappearing again and leaving me to change into my smoke-heavy clothes once more. I cringed a bit pulling on my soot-crusted jeans, but was fully clothed and sitting on the edge of the bed when she returned for me.

On the drive back to the village, she made a few attempts at polite conversation, but when I barely responded, she gave up and we drove in silence. Pulling up in front of the guesthouse where I’d been staying, I murmured thanks and opened my door to get out.

“Wait.” She laid a hand on my arm. “I just wanted to say I’m really sorry about your friend.” She paused, chewing her lip. “But you might want to get out of Ireland pretty quick. I overheard those gardaí talking earlier about finding a reason to hold you for questioning. This area, it’s not exactly known for the most honest law enforcement, if you catch my drift?”

Nodding my understanding, I gave her a bitter smile. “I know all too well. Thank you for telling me.”

Closing the car door firmly behind me, I needed to swallow the huge lump in my throat before I could bring myself to step foot back into the guest house. Was I really ready to re-enter into the room I’d shared with Wes for the past week? Where we had left the sheets still rumpled yesterday morning when we left... when he was so excited to learn more about his magic.

The answer was a resounding no. But I couldn’t just stand outside all night, so I pulled up my metaphorical big girl panties and took a deep breath before knocking on the owner’s door. I needed a spare key to get back into our room. After that... well I’d deal with it when I got there.