The vampires’ position was just as good, if they chose to assert it. The artifact was found in their sovereign territory. Yet Andreas had indicated a willingness for Hawkson to take it away.

So, what about the tribe? By heritage and need, Hawkson’s claim was strong, but giving it to him might not be an option. The shaman was in no condition to take custody or protect the stone. He was fighting for his life in a sterile hospital room.

Ari stood, brushing dust from the knees of her jeans. She slipped the stone into its leather bag and stuffed it in her pouch. She warded the opening to Spirit Cave and left, so engrossed in her own thoughts that she neglected to speak to either the weretigers or the dwarf on her way out.

She had an important decision to make.

Ari stood in the hushed hospital room looking down at Hawkson’s gray face. Numerous tubes trailed from his body, lying motionless except for the regular up and down of his chest. His left shoulder was heavily bandaged, empty space where the missing arm should be. Machines quietly hummed and beeped around him. Tiny lights—red, green, yellow, blue—seemed bright in the subdued lighting.

Ari studied his broad, rugged features. Strong character was etched there. He was a good man. After several minutes, she pulled the bloodstone’s leather bag out of her pouch and opened it. Carefully picking up Hawkson’s right hand, she placed the bloodstone on his palm and closed his limp fingers around it. She rested his hand on his chest and sat down to wait.

An hour went by, then another. She made two calls, finally talking with Andreas late in the afternoon. He and the president of the Magic Council both knew where she was and why, and she had their agreement. All she could do now was wait for the powers that be, including the bloodstone, to make a final decision on Hawkson’s fate. The future of his spirit was a battle only he could fight.

She sat back and let her body relax. It had been a long, tense, three weeks.

During the evening and night, the nurses came and went at least once an hour. Andreas stopped in around midnight and sat with her for a while. Still she waited. She dozed off occasionally but never for long. By default, she was the current protector of the bloodstone. She would not leave it unguarded.

As dawn began to streak the sky, she first noticed a change in his breathing, deeper, quicker. Then his hand twitched. Hawkson’s lids fluttered twice and opened. He stared straight up at the ceiling, as if seeking his bearings, and drew a long breath. He refocused on Ari hovering at the foot of his bed.

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“You’re back,” she said.

He showed no sign of recognition. Her heart sank. Had all this waiting been for nothing? Was his mind gone?

“Do you know who I am? Or remember the fight in the caves?”

He blinked, his eyes wandered away, then back to her. He parted his lips. “The walking dead,” he whispered.

“She’s dead. Permanently.” He would eventually recall more details, and he’d have other questions. For now that seemed to be all he needed to hear. She watched as his fingers tightened on the stone. The muscles of his face twitched, and he raised his hand to look at what he held.

He started to speak and stopped to clear his throat. “You found it. Brought it to me.”

“Yes, it was in the wall. Blackhawk had shoved it into a crevice and sealed it with mud and rock.”

One corner of his lips lifted. “Smart.”

“Yes, he was. And his directions were good, once we had them all.”

Hawkson shut his eyes, then opened them again. “You have been with me many hours. I knew you were here…and felt the stone.”

“Since yesterday afternoon. I’m glad you’re finally awake.”

“The bloodstone healed me.”

Ari simply nodded. She didn’t know whether it was the bloodstone or Hawkson’s constitution or his faith, but it made little difference. It was enough that he believed.

“The stone is yours. You are the rightful heir. The vampires and the Magic Council have agreed that you should be its keeper.”

“My sister…”

“She’s holding her own, from what the nurse told me.”

“The curse is broken.” A smile tugged at his dry lips, a glow lighting his face.

So that’s what hope looked like. Maybe it would be enough for his sister too.

“You argued my claim,” Hawkson said, as if he’d sorted out how the stone had become his responsibility.

“It wasn’t hard. But your people now have the burden to keep it safe.”

“It will remain with me as long as I live.” He licked his dry lips, and she gave him a sip of water. “When the time comes for me to meet my ancestors, I will place it in the hands of the next generation.” He looked up at her with a puzzled frown. “Why would you do this for me? For us?”

Ari cocked her head, surprised he had to ask. “I could give you a dozen reasons, but only one really matters.” Her lips quirked in a smile, thinking how much her cop partner would approve of the answer. “It was the right thing to do.”

Epilogue

A week had passed since the cavern fight resulted in Ursula’s death, and yet only a handful knew the truth. The O-Seven had made inquiries about her, but Daron and the other Canadian princes pled ignorance. In fact, Daron was the only one outside of Olde Town who knew the enforcer was dead. After Andreas called him with the news, a select few of Daron’s forces, heavily armed, had taken over Ursula plane, killed the guards, and dumped the plane and bodies in the middle of a remote lake.

To the outside world, Ursula and her plane had simply disappeared. Andreas and Daron told anyone who asked that Ursula had talked about returning to Europe, implying her plane must have gone down over the ocean. The O-Seven didn’t believe it, but so far the secret had held.

Life in Canada and in Olde Town slowly reverted to normal. The vampires and lycanthropes took down the barriers, put away the heavy weapons, and returned to their own homes.

Everyone except Ari, but today was the day.

She stretched lazily as she climbed out of bed, pulling on jeans and a T-shirt before padding to the kitchen—Andreas’s kitchen—in her bare feet and pouring her first cup of coffee. She still didn’t know who started the pot every morning, probably Samuel, but it was nice to find it waiting. She flipped on the TV to watch the morning news.

Sitting on a stool at the counter, she sipped the hot liquid and listened to the broadcast with one ear. When the on-screen reporter mentioned Barron & Carmody Adventures, she looked up to see Barron’s sister Kelly smiling and shaking hands with Max Carmody, sealing their new partnership. Ari nearly choked on her coffee. How quickly things changed.

She continued to watch through the weather forecast and turned the television off when the stock market news came on. Andreas was the only person she knew who paid attention to the Dow Jones.

The thought of him brought a twinge of unease. Last night, when she’d mentioned this was her moving day, he hadn’t said much. His jawline had firmed, but he didn’t argue. He was learning to let her make her own decisions. She was grateful for that, so why the funky mood? Maybe it was just the big job ahead.

She’d rescheduled today’s office appointments to allow plenty of time for an unhurried move. It was amazing how much stuff she had spread throughout the Victorian house. She’d taken over two entire shelves in the pantry for her herbs and potions. Her favorite CDs dotted the rec room and the basement gym; books on magic and spells had been added to the library. Ari sighed. Collecting her scattered belongings might be the most time-consuming part of her move.

Refilling her mug, she carried it up to the Chantilly Suite, stopping to pat Bella and Dona, who were snoozing in the morning sun that came through her bedroom window. Mother and daughter spent most of their day together. They’d need extra attention after the separation.

Ari entered the walk-in closet and pulled out the new luggage that Andreas had purchased for her when he’d seen the tattered bags she’d taken on their first joint trip to Toronto. The deep red and silver set, custom-made, carried the name of Henk. Designer, no doubt. There’d been nothing wrong with her old duffel.

She placed the smallest bag on the bed, unsnapped the closures, and began to pack her socks and underwear, smiling at the lacy additions Andreas had made. He could be such a typical guy.

Her cell phone rang from the top of the dresser, and she tripped over a pile of jeans as she scrambled to grab it.

Claris’s name was on the screen. “Hi, how are things in the plant world this morning?”

“Great! I mean, really good.” Ari heard suppressed excitement in her voice. “Brando’s home.”

Well, about time. “Do I hear the sounds of a reconciliation?”

“Oh, Ari, we talked all night. And, and…” Her voice trickled off on a choke of swallowed tears.

What the hell? “You’re crying again. What’s he done now? If he said something to hurt you—”

“He asked me to marry him.”

“What?” Ari reeled from the unexpected response. Then she wanted to jump up and down. “And you said?”

“I said yes.”

“Woo hoo! That’s wonderful. This calls for a celebration. Want to come to the club tonight? We’ll plan a party. Oh, I’m, so excited for you!”

Now Claris was laughing so hard she could hardly talk. “Yes, that would be lovely.”

“Stay right there. I’m coming over, and we’ll make plans.”

Abandoning the packing, Ari raced from the house and spent the rest of the morning with Claris. Brando appeared when they were still giggling over party plans and even participated in some of the details.

“Have you set a date?” Ari asked, looking at her two friends.

“Hey, give us time. I just got up the courage to ask her.” Brando acted very pleased with himself.

“About time you did, but the plans sound rather vague to me,” Ari teased. “You better get this done, Claris, before he changes his mind.”




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