Thomas hadn't moved from Jill's bedside since she first stirred. She woke in fragments-delirious, eyes darting, breath shallow and uneven. He stayed even after Mary and Daniel slipped out to hunt the wendigo. The room was dim, lit only by the soft blue glow of hospital monitors and the pale light leaking through the blinds. Rain tapped steadily against the window, a low, constant rhythm.

  A little after dawn Mary returned. She moved quietly, the way only someone centuries old could-silent footsteps, calm presence. She settled into the chair beside him without a word at first.

  "How are the kids?" she asked eventually, voice low.

  Mary gave a tired half-smile. "Well, someone needs to talk to Macy's parents. No child should have access to that many firearms-and I say that as someone who is bulletproof."

  "She's an interesting girl." Thomas laughed subtly.

  Mary arched an eyebrow. "She had a grenade."

  Thomas looked at her. "I don't have words for that. I just thank God she's on our side."

  "You know she and Sarah almost took down the wendigo on their own."

  Mary smiled-small, fond, tired. "I need to talk to Sarah's brothers about keeping a better eye on her."

  Thomas shrugged. "She wasn't that bad. And she made some friends."

  "Yes. The Republican Lesbian Werewolf Club." Mary let out a soft laugh as she recalled Sarah's proud retelling of the name.

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  "I think it's the Republican Werewolf Lesbian Club," Thomas corrected.

  "If my daughter becomes a Republican or a lesbian, I'm holding you personally responsible," Mary joked, the corner of her mouth lifting.

  Thomas laughed-short, hollow, more breath than sound. "Inanna... she's an elder power, Mary. I don't know how I missed it."

  "I met Annie. I met her when she was your wife. I met her before. I missed it." Mary shrugged, the gesture carrying centuries of weariness. "She's an elder power. A fallen watcher. We can't all be Fenrir."

  ""How did he kill so many of them? He wasn't even Alpha of his pack at the time."

  "His lazy, useless brother was. Don't remind me." Mary's voice softened. "Fenrir was many things, but proud wasn't one. He didn't set out to slay gods. He set out to make a safe place for his family. And he never did it alone. Wasn't too proud to ask for help. That's how the truly great victories happen-grit, humility, and a cause worth more to you than your life."

  "She..." Jill's voice rasped from the bed-barely audible, cracked.

  Thomas and Mary turned. Jill's eyes were open now, glassy with pain and fever.

  "She... has a plan. The wendigo..."

  Mary leaned closer. "The wendigo is dead. Her coven is dead. We found and destroyed all her hexed items."

  "She..." Jill's breaths came ragged, shallow, each one a struggle. "She wanted everyone to die."

  "Find your words, Jill," Mary said. Her tone was part warning, part warmth-steady, like a mother coaxing a frightened child.

  Jill's eyes fluttered. "She planned for them to die. She didn't care about Sarah. Her coven. Anything. She was using necromancy. Every time someone killed a human with her gifts... a monster with her gifts... anything with her gifts... the power was on loan. Stored up for her." She drew several more shallow, painful breaths. "If you kill the wendigo... she will be unstoppable."

  "How?" Thomas asked quietly. "The wendigo had no weapons."

  Jill's gaze locked on him-wild, desperate. "She made that wendigo."

  Thomas reached out and took Jill's hand. Her fingers were cold, trembling. "Rest now," he said softly, thumb brushing over her knuckles. "Rest."

  Jill's eyes drifted shut again. The monitors beeped on-slow, steady, fragile.

  Mary watched Thomas for a long moment. Neither of them spoke. Outside, the rain started falling again.