Nikos reached instinctively for his unicorn.
No answer.
This was not the pretense of a vault that he and his unicorn had developed over the years, while Nikos had learned to cope with all the conflicts in his life. He had compartmentalized his life out of sheer necessity. Nikos the ruler. Nikos the teacher. Nikos the healer. Nikos the defender. Way, way down the list, the tiniest box, was Nikos the man, with all a man’s wishes, desires, needs. Hopes. Those had been his last priority—the ones his unicorn focused on most.
He drew in a deep, unsteady breath, so very weary. But it had been the right thing to do to save her. Jen was alive. Would she answer, when she discovered what he had done? Yes, came a very weak whisper from his unicorn. Yes. Jen the phoenix, who loved the entire world, would understand . . .
But would they have a life together?
Don’t borrow trouble, came a slightly more distinct thought. Nikos opened his eyes. “My unicorn is in there. Though not much more than a shadow.”
Joey bowed his head. “He—and you—surrendered a great deal. The fact that you sense your unicorn is a good sign, I think.”
Nikos dared to let himself hope that much. Right now, the important thing was that Jen breathed. She lived. Her wounds had healed.
“Let’s get her to her house before the city wakes up,” Joey said. “Cang’s gang is gone, but I don’t know for how long. They’re not going to give up easily.”
Nikos had actually forgotten the oracle stone. About that, he wanted to say—but he was too tired.
Anyway, Joey was talking again. “Doris is almost here. She has Jen’s purse with her keys, and they have extra wheelchairs at her synagogue. I asked her to borrow one for Jen, as those are easier to fold into her trunk and maneuver around than ambulance beds. I can carry her,” Joey offered.
“I will.” Nikos flushed at how short the words came out sounding. But Joey’s smile said he understood.
Nikos got to his feet, then he swayed. “Heh. Maybe I’ll take you up on that offer after all. . .”
At that moment, the sun lipped the horizon, lighting the treetops—and two things happened simultaneously.
Jen shifted to her human form, lying there curled up in the rubble, still unconscious. Because phoenixes were mythic shifters, she was still wearing her clothes from last night, dust imprinted all over the fringed suede jacket.
At the same moment, Nikos shifted to his unicorn, his flanks shivering, feet planted wide, head low.
He could not shift back.
THIRTEEN
JEN
I want to bust that Long Cang in the chops . . .
Jen opened her eyes to find Bird and Doris hovering over her. Their anxious faces broke into relieved smiles.
Jen grimaced. “Did I say that out loud?”
“That’s okay,” Doris said, as Bird nodded firmly. “There isn’t anyone here who wouldn’t agree a thousand percent.”
Memory began to trickle back—mixing with incredibly vivid dreams. “Nikos?” Jen asked, rising on her elbows. Was he really there, making some weird pearly glowing thing come out of the earth, or was that just her crazy dream?
“He’s fine,” Bird said, her gaze sliding away.
Jen saw that sideways glance, and alarm zapped her. “Bird, what’s wrong? Did he get hurt?”
“He’s fine,” Bird said quickly. “Just a bit worn out.”
“Worn out? By what? Wait. How much of that was real?” Jen sat all the way up. She was lightheaded for a few seconds, but a deep breath took care of that. She flexed her hands. They didn’t hurt. She turned her right hand over. A faint pinkish line remained where those zip-ties had cut into her skin.
And that . . . that wolf thing that had bitten her! She jerked her wrist close to her face, spotting pinkish dots that might have been bite scars. But they were far too faint. Those teeth had sunk deep, and the pain had been acrid, burning—
A wolf thing covered with lightning.