The Whispering Dead (Gravekeeper #1) - Darcy Coates Page 0,80
the carpet and my nerves.”
A chair scraped as Mason sat down. The men dropped into silence for a moment, then Mason spoke again. Unlike earlier, he seemed to be choosing his words carefully. “Let her stay here. She won’t say as much, but I know she doesn’t want to leave. She could live in this cottage. I’d help her find a job.”
“Mason, I am awfully fond of you, but I’ve known Catholics who worry less. We can discuss what’s to be done once she’s awake and can actually have a say in the matter.”
Mason didn’t reply, but Keira imagined him nodding. She was just on the edge of falling asleep again when something warm and heavy thumped against her arm. She mumbled as she turned to see the object.
Two huge amber eyes stared at her. Daisy’s ears twitched, then the black cat stretched, shook herself out, and curled into a tidy ball at Keira’s side.
“Hey there,” Keira mumbled and extracted an arm to scratch its head. As she pulled the limb free from the blanket cocoon, she saw that a swath of bandages had been wrapped around the cut.
Mason heard her. He carried his chair from the fireplace to prop it next to her bed and nodded to the cat as he sat. “She’s some kind of escape artist. When I left her at home, I was certain I’d closed every door and window in the house. I don’t even know how she remembered the way back here, but she showed up barely an hour after I found you.”
“Maybe she’s magic,” Keira murmured to herself.
The cat leaned into her hand, and when Daisy’s eyes met Keira’s, there seemed to be some kind of understanding inside. Then she rolled onto her back, poked one leg into the air, and began licking her butt.
Keira blew out a breath. “Ha. Maybe not.”
Mason was watching her closely. “How do you feel?”
“Pretty damn fantastic compared to earlier.” Everything ached, but she was warm in bed, and at least the edge of tiredness had been taken off. “Thanks for all of this by the way.”
He shrugged. “It’s what I do.”
Adage appeared at Mason’s side and wordlessly handed him a steaming bowl. The pastor gave Keira a kindly nod, then returned to the fireplace.
“Do you feel up to eating?” Mason held the bowl forward. “It’s chicken soup. Adage made it.”
“It’s from a can, but I was responsible for heating it, so I won’t refuse credit,” the pastor called from his seat by the fire.
It smelled amazing. Keira took a drink straight from the bowl, then asked, “Is Zoe okay?”
“Yes and also no?” Mason laughed and ran a hand through his already-ruffled hair. “When you didn’t show up in town, we both panicked a bit. Remember her theory that Dane Crispin is a vampire? She kicked through a fence so she could use the picket as a stake.”
Keira pressed a hand over her mouth. “Oh no.”
“Yes. She was fully prepared to storm the castle, so to speak.”
“But she’s okay now? She’s staying away from Crispin House?”
“I called her to let her know you’re okay. She said she was going to get some sleep but will come and visit later this afternoon. I suspect she wants to know what happened.” His eyes darkened a fraction as his gaze slid to the bandages on her arm. “I do too.”
There was no way she could truthfully explain everything that had happened. The best she could do was give him a sheepish smile. “Last night was really just a series of awful mistakes. I got away from Dane easily enough, but then I became lost in the forest, and the phone’s battery ran out. I found my way back to town eventually; it just took a while.”
Mason’s eyebrows pulled closer together. “The cut. Did Dane do that?”
Keira hesitated. The firmness around Mason’s mouth and the cold light in his eyes hinted at carefully contained anger. She couldn’t tell him that it had been Gavin; that would lead to questions she couldn’t answer, such as why Gavin was no longer a threat.
The man from the bridge deserved justice, but she had no evidence that Gavin was responsible—just the knowledge her second sight had given her. She didn’t even know the older man’s name. That thread couldn’t be dropped, but she needed time to untangle it, and until then, she would have to lie. “No, this was my fault. I was carrying my knife but tripped and stabbed myself like the world’s biggest klutz.”