Some kind of fear, transient yet persistent, dogged her, but as with the voices, she couldn’t place its source. She knew only of its existence. And what were they saying about pain? She felt nothing. Were they talking about someone else?

No, wait. She did feel something. As she swallowed, her throat was sore.

And she could taste. Dear Lord, could she taste… there was the most incredible dark wine in her mouth, and down the back of her throat, and deep within her gut. It was a source of warmth, of strength, like a banked hearth—

Therese’s eyes flipped open, and as she gasped, three heads leaned over her. A male and a female she did not recognize—the voices, probably? Because they were in doctor garb—and then—

“Trez,” she croaked.

As she lifted her hand, the male she wanted to see above all else captured her palm in the gentlest of holds.

“I’m right here,” he said roughly. “I’m right with you.”

Yes, she thought. He always had been with her. Even though… well, he didn’t look so hot. His face was an unnatural red, and he had one eyebrow singed, and a section of his hair was missing—

Something was on fire, she thought. She could smell the smoke.

Therese opened her mouth to say something, but abruptly she became distracted by the bandages that ran up her forearms. Lifting her head, she looked down at her body. She was wound up with white bands from collarbone to ankle.

That was when the pain registered. Except how was it possible that every square inch of her body hurt? And there was heat, too, not like the sustaining, sultry engine of life in her belly, but a burning—

Fire. She’d been in a fire. In her rooming house.

As with the sensation in her body, memory came back in a rush that nearly knocked her unconscious, so great was the barrage of images, sounds, smells. She remembered everything, from the scent of something burning right before the explosion, to the blasts, to the flames and the smoke along the corridor. She recalled trying to douse the fire out on that female with the slipcover and then something swinging down on her from the ceiling. Then the crawl on the filthy runner and her trying to get to safety. She remembered going as far as she could to get herself away from the heat, but it had not been fast enough. Far enough.

Her skin had burned. All over her body.

That was the reason she was bandaged.

And she was here in this hospital because Trez had gotten her out.

Therese sought his face, while, off in the distance, alarms sounded. Still, she met his gleaming black eyes.

“Thank you,” she said. “For saving me.”

The doctors were talking fast again, but she couldn’t concentrate on what they were saying. It was all she could do to speak what she needed to to Trez. With her pain level shooting up as high as it was, the sensations ricocheting around her body, in her skull, were so dominant that she felt like she was shouting through a concrete wall.

But she had to let him know.

“My queen,” he whispered, “I would never have left you there.”

Strange, but it seemed completely normal for him to say such a thing. My queen—

That was when the other half of it all came to her. The female in the white robe emerging from the smoke, seeking her out… because that was her, in a different form, in a different life.

Abruptly, over the shoulder of the Shadow, Therese saw someone standing in the corner of the hospital room. At first, she wasn’t sure what she was looking at, but then… it was herself. Again. Just as it had been in the burning hallway.

She was staring at herself staring at herself.

As Therese smiled, the female—the other version of her—smiled back.

All will be well, the vision mouthed. All is as it should be.

“This should help the pain,” someone said.

Therese looked at the person who spoke. Just as she was going to ask what they had given her, a cooling entered her body, coursing through her veins, calming the raucous firing of so many nerves.

Shuddering in relief, she was able to focus better on Trez.

“How did you know I needed you?” she breathed.

“Because you told me.”

Therese looked back at the ghost of herself, still hovering in the corner.

“Yes,” she whispered, “I must have.”

The ghost of her raised a hand and waved… before slowly dissipating, as if her job was done. And then where she had been standing, someone else took her place, like an existential baton had been passed and only one could inhabit the space. It was an angel. An angel with gossamer wings, and blond and black hair, and gold rings around his throat and his wrists.

Part of her wanted to dismiss all of it as the product of some really good drugs. But she knew this was real. How else could a miracle like this be explained? Yes, it was all as it was supposed to be. She had been gone for a while, but now she was back where she needed to be, with Trez.

The angel smiled at her. She smiled back at him.

“Do you see him?” she whispered to Trez. “The angel…?”

“Shh, don’t talk. Save your strength.”

Funny, that’s what she’d said to her mahmen.

Refocusing on Trez, she studied his face. “I am the one you lost. I don’t know how that is possible, but I lost you and now I’m back. And I love you.”

Abruptly, there was total silence all around her—and not because she had died. All of the medical staff, and the other people in the room, froze where they stood and stared at her, at Trez.

“The fire,” she said. “I saw myself in the fire in a white robe. And then there you were.”

“I saw you in the fire, too,” he explained. “You came to me out of the funeral pyre. You…”

With a jerk of his head, Trez looked to the angel. Then everyone looked at the angel.

As if he had been waiting for the group’s attention, beneficent illumination emanated from the heavenly messenger’s body, the great, warm, healing light, enveloping them all. Then the angel started to laugh.

“Hot damn, it worked!” he said, clapping his hands and then boom!’ing his hips. “This is my first frickin’ miracle, and I rocked the shit out of it! High fives all around for me.” He smacked the air with his palms over his head. “I mean, I wasn’t sure whether it was going to work. After Selena died, I delivered her soul to those nice people’s house in Michigan. I left her on the doorstep in a bassinet—I mean, come on, who doesn’t love a young in a basket on the doorstep at Christmas!” He swooned as if he was admiring a piece of art. “And then, after some difficulty—because, come on, even in my world, there was to be a little balance—everything works out! It’s perfect! I mean, seriously—I impressed even myself.”

Walking over to Trez, he put his palm out, and Trez slowly raised his own. The angel made the clap happen, and then he very gingerly did the same with Therese.

“High fives,” he whispered to her.

Then he stepped back. “Now. I gotta go ’cuz Home Alone is about to start. It’s a marathon for eight hours, but if you miss the pizza scene in the beginning you really can’t get Kevin’s motivation right. Plus, hello, Fuller’s a bed-wetter, so you get why Kevin has to go to the attic—”

The angel stopped and looked around at all the dumbfounded faces.