the street, herding cats—literally. After canceling my appointments, he’d hung around in case we had any walk-ins. Luckily he’d smelled the fire, called it in, then opened the cages in the kennel and let all the residents out.
Though the building was a loss—Roland McHugh made a damn good fire that burned hot and fast—the animals were saved. Joaquin was a hero. I gave him permission to dole out the poor homeless fur babies to several giggling girls who’d gathered around. From the admiring gazes cast his way, Joaquin wasn’t going to go friendless, or dateless, much longer.
Owen, me, Reggie—as well as Grenade—slept that night at the cottages. So did Cassandra, Franklin, Raye, Bobby, and my parents. My birth parents.
Took some fancy talking by Franklin to get Kyle to agree to let Pru sleep inside. But he did. I’m sure the fed had to pay plenty. Kyle isn’t the kind to care about a shiny FBI badge.
But we can’t stay in Three Harbors. We have to go where no one knows us. Now that Roland’s free, and he’s discovered matches, no one and nothing is safe.
I spoke with my other parents. Told them I’d be leaving for a while. I hope that by the time I come back, I’ve figured out what to say to them. Maybe nothing beyond thank you. They might have lied, but they loved me; they protected me and accepted me. I always knew something was off, but only someone like me, with supernatural abilities, would have.
Though possessing Raye was weird for both of us, the exchange accomplished one important thing. I can see Henry and Raye can hear Pru. So far just them—no extra ghosts for me, no whispers from Fido for her. I kind of hope it stays that way. I have enough voices in my head already and so does she.
The morning after, I woke in Owen’s arms. The sun slanting through the window told me we’d slept half the morning away. I wasn’t surprised. After dying, rising, watching my livelihood burn, we’d come back here and proved we were alive the best way we knew how.
Reggie and Grenade lay on the couch all curled together. Neither one of them even lifted their heads as I sat up. The sun lit Owen’s sleeping face, revealing every line that he’d earned. I drew back the sheet then placed my palm on the thin white line that still marred his thigh. One more dose ought to do it.
The spark woke him. He slapped his hand atop mine. “What are you doing?”
“You’re good as new.”
“Okay.” He sat up, leaned over, kissed me quick. “Thanks.”
“You can go back now.”
“Back?” he echoed as if I were speaking in tongues.
“To the Marines.”
He snorted. “Right.”
“You said if you don’t do your job, people die.”
“If I leave, you might die. I can’t risk that. The only people I care about, Becca, is you.”
“But—”
“You think I don’t know what you’re doing? You’re trying to get me out of harm’s way.”
“In Afghanistan?”
“Probably safer.”
Definitely safer. “You should—” I began.
“Marry you. I know.”
“Wait. What?”
“I’m not leaving you again. Ever. So we should probably get married. Okay?” he asked.
“What about Reggie?”
“He can get his own girl. I think he kind of likes your mom.”
I thought he kind of liked her too, but—
“She’s only got eyes for Henry.”
“Poor guy.” Owen sighed. “Reggie’s going to have to go back.”
“Why?”
“He belongs to the Marines. He was trained to sniff bombs. He’s really, really good at it, and it’s what he loves to do.”
“He’ll miss you.”
And Pru. But right now it was probably best if Reggie was gone so that he stopped growling at corners after magazines smacked him on the nose of their own accord. People would start to talk. Which would cause any Venatores Mali that might be lurking about to become suspicious. We needed to keep a low profile.
“I’ll miss him too,” Owen said. “I’ll put in a request; when he’s retired, he can live with us.”
“Maybe by then this will all be over.”
Owen lay back and pulled me against his chest. “Once it is over, we can come back to Three Harbors.”
“We don’t have to.”
“I don’t mind, and I think there’s a couple people here who would be great to work with.”
“Doing what?”
“Breeding, raising, and training MWDs.”
“That would be great!”
“Billy knows a lot about dog breeding.”
“Billy the prophet? He does.”
“And that kid who works for you … Joaquin—”
“He doesn’t any more.” Mainly because my clinic was rubble, not to mention we were going on the road. Joaquin