heal,” Sarah said, touching the raw skin on his forearm.
The cry of a furious, hungry baby split the air.
“Becca.” My heart leaped at the prospect of seeing the twins again. But Matthew did not seem to share my happiness.
“No.” Matthew’s eyes were wild, and he shook from head to toe. “No. Not now. Not like this.”
Since Benjamin had taken control of Matthew’s mind and body, I insisted that now Matthew was free he should be allowed to set the terms of his own daily existence and even his medical treatment. But this I would not allow. I scooped Rebecca out of Ysabeau’s arms, kissed her smooth cheek, and dropped the baby into the crook of Matthew’s elbow.
The moment Becca saw Matthew’s face, she stopped crying.
The moment Matthew had his daughter in his arms, he stopped shaking, just as I had the night she was born. My eyes filled at his terrified, awestruck expression.
“Good thinking,” Sarah murmured. She gave me the once-over. “You look like hell, too.”
“Mum,” Jack said, kissing me on the cheek. He tried to give me Philip, but the baby squirmed away from me, his face twisting and turning.
“What is it, little man?” I touched Philip’s face with a fingertip. My hands flashed with power, and the letters that now waited under the surface of my skin rose up, arranging themselves into stories that had yet to be told. I nodded and gave the baby a kiss on the forehead, feeling the tingle on my lips that confirmed what the Book of Life had already revealed to me. My son had power—lots of power. “Take him to Matthew, Jack.”
Jack knew full well the horrors Benjamin was capable of committing. He steeled himself to see evidence of them before he turned. I saw Matthew through Jack’s eyes: his hero, home from battle, gaunt and wounded. Jack cleared his throat, and the growling sound had me concerned.
“Don’t leave Philip out of the reunion, Dad.” Jack wedged Philip securely into the crook of Matthew’s other arm.
Matthew’s eyes flickered with surprise at the greeting. It was such a small word—Dad—but Jack had never called Matthew anything except Master Roydon and Matthew. Though Andrew Hubbard had insisted that Matthew was Jack’s true father, and although Jack had been quick to call me “Mother,” he had been strangely reluctant to bestow a similar honor on the man he worshipped.
“Philip gets cross when Becca gets all the attention.” Jack’s voice was roughened with suppressed rage, and he made his next words deliberately playful and light. “Granny Sarah has all kinds of advice on how to treat younger brothers and sisters. Most of it involves ice cream and trips to the zoo.” Jack’s banter didn’t fool Matthew.
“Look at me.” Matthew’s voice was weak and raspy, but there was no mistaking that this was an order.
Jack met his eyes.
“Benjamin is dead,” Matthew said.
“I know.” Jack looked away, shifting restlessly from one foot to the other.
“Benjamin can’t hurt you. Not anymore.”
“He hurt you. And he would have hurt my mother.” Jack looked at me, and his eyes filled with darkness.
Fearing that the blood rage would engulf him, I took a step in Jack’s direction. I stopped before taking another, forcing myself to let Matthew handle it.
“Eyes on me, Jack.”
Matthew’s skin was gray with effort. He had uttered more words since Jack’s arrival than he had in a full week, and they were sapping his strength. Jack’s wandering attention returned to the head of his clan.
“Take Rebecca. Give her to Diana. Then come back.”
Jack did as asked, while the rest of us watched warily in case either he or Matthew lost control. With Becca safely in my arms, I kissed her and told her in a whisper what a good girl she was not to fuss at being taken from her father.
Becca frowned, indicating she was playing this game under protest.
“But, Matthieu,” Ysabeau protested. Fernando whispered something in her ear. Reluctantly she nodded. “Come, Jack. On the way to Sept-Tours, I will tell you a story about the time Baldwin attempted to banish me from Jerusalem. Many men died.”
After delivering that thinly veiled warning, Ysabeau swept Jack from the room.
“Thank you, Maman,” Matthew murmured. He was still supporting Philip’s weight, and his arms shook alarmingly.
“Call if you need me,” Marcus whispered as he headed out the door.