Dorcas was urging her out of the room. She went. She nearly crashed into Finn just outside the door.
"You all right?" he asked her.
In the strange hospital light, it appeared that there was a strange gleam in his eyes. A niggling thought tore into her mind. Andy had been staring not at her, but beyond her. Out the glass windows. Where Finn had probably already been standing.
She braced herself and fought the insanity in her mind. She loved him. What was love? Faith, trust. They had learned that lesson. But love might well be defined as insanity as well, wanting someone so badly, that the truth didn't matter, as long as it could be denied. Morwenna had warned her about Finn, Finn had been a creature in her nightmares, Finn had been in Boston most probably on the night when a terrible murder had been committed.
Finn had saved her from an attack last night.
From an invisible attacker.
Stop! she urged herself.
Finn didn't even understand what was going on himself.
"Megan?" he said.
Martha came out behind her. Megan didn't have to reply right away. "Finn, dear, how are you?" She stood on her toes, giving him a kiss on the cheek, which he returned.
"Martha, how are you? I'm so sorry. I didn't realize you and Andy were such good old friends," he told her sympathetically.
"Oh, actually, we're good old bickering enemies," Martha said wryly. "But we've both been around forever, so… of course, I care for the old coot!"
Finn nodded, looking at Megan again.
"Martha, now, you and your family are cluttering up the ICU halls," Dorcas said firmly.
"Yes, yes, we're gone. And thanks, Dorcas. Come along, children," she said, and slipped her right arm through Finn's, her left through Megan's. "Dorcas has been patient enough."
"How's he doing?" Finn asked as they walked to the elevators.
"Holding on, anyway," Martha said. "Megan thought he said something, but when Dorcas checked his vitals, there was no change whatsoever. What did you think he said, dear?"
Megan shook her head.
"Dorcas was right. I must have imagined that he opened his eyes… that he spoke."
"But said what?" Finn inquired that time.
Was he worried that Andy might have said something that could have implicated him… ?
In what?
"I really don't know. Just a mumble. Maybe my name," Megan said with what she hoped was an offhand shrug.
Finn was frowning as he stared down at her.
The evil… there! Andy had said. And he had been staring beyond her. At the glass windows to the hallway. Where Finn had come to find her. He hadn't stayed in the waiting room, even when the volunteer woman had surely told him where she had gone.
It was crazy.
A little pinging noise indicated the arrival of the elevator. A woman in a wheelchair cradled a brand new baby while her husband and friends stood around her bearing balloons announcing that the newborn was a boy.
The three of them congratulated the new mother, and the elevator reached the bottom floor. As they exited, Finn set his arm around Megan's shoulders. She somehow suppressed a shudder. Again, she thought that she was crazy. Her husband would never want to hurt her. How could she even begin to believe such a thing—over and over!—when they could share time such as they had last night? And how could she believe that she loved him so deeply when she could suspect him of evil?
The happy new parents, the baby, and their entourage moved down the hall ahead of them. Megan listened to their light talk and laughter.
"Well, have you two had lunch?" Martha asked.
"Yes, we were eating when we heard the news about Andy," Finn told her. "But if you're hungry, we'd be happy to accompany you somewhere."
"No, no, I'm an old bird, I lunch early when I'm on my own," Martha said. "It's just that Megan is looking a little peaked—I was hoping that you were keeping up with your meals, and therefore your strength, young lady!"
"I'm fine," Megan said, determined that she would play the part. "I was just upset to hear about Andy. A hit and run is such a terrible thing. Are they sure, though, that it was a hit and run?"
Martha arched a brow. "Well… that's what they're saying. He was found on the side of the road. I guess… well, what would it be, other than a hit and run?"
"An assault," Finn said flatly.Martha looked horrified. "Who on earth would assault Andy? I don't believe the police are even considering such a possibility. He was found with his wallet and personal effects—the old codger wears a good watch and a signet ring worth quite a bit of money. I don't know anything about police business, but I'm sure they checked out the scene. Now, come on, you two! Let me worry about Andy. You both look dreadful. It's a sorry state, but you two hardly know him. You've both come here, you've done all that you might, when unfortunately, there's really nothing anyone can do, other than his doctors, and they're going on a wing and a prayer as well. Finn, would you like to come back to the house? Megan, honey, are you coming with me now, or your husband?"
Megan closed her eyes for a moment, fighting a wave of dizziness. She lowered her head, biting into her lip. Fury suddenly filled her. No. Finn wasn't guilty of anything. She did love him, and she wasn't going to lose him. And she wasn't going to be a coward, neither was she going crazy. Whatever the hell was going on, she intended to fight it.
She considered going with Martha, since the news of Andy's condition had completely erased her earlier discomfort when she had awakened from her dream—and found her feet dirty. Maybe a long talk with Martha would be good.
But it seemed more important then to be with Finn.
"Thanks, Aunt Martha, but I'm really fine." She slipped her arm through Finn's. "We have some friends in town. I think we're going to try to find them before it's time to get ready for work tonight."
"All right, kids," Martha said with a smile. "You two take care."
"We will, thanks," Finn called to her.
They watched Martha walk to her car. Then Megan looked up at Finn. "So what is going on with you and this couple from New Orleans? Do you think I could see them as well?"
He smiled. "We'll head back into town and try to find them."
He led her out to the car, opened the passenger door for her, then went around and slid into the driver's seat. He started up the car. They were halfway back into town when he asked her, "You know, the others may believe you, but I don't. What did Andy Markham say to you?"
She stared straight ahead. "Didn't you hear Dorcas? He couldn't have said anything. His condition was totally unchanged."
"Bullshit," Finn said.
Startled, she looked at him. Then she stared out the front window again. "I don't remember, exactly.
Except that he said, 'Bac-Dal wants you.'"
Eddie was out of the room. Lucian and Jade now had a selection of old books, new books, and manuscripts laid out before them.
"What do you think?" Jade asked Lucian.
"I think that some well-read Satanists are planning on bringing Bac-Dal to life, and that they intend to use Megan Douglas as his final sacrifice, or… I don't know. Maybe they intend to use her as a gift when he first arrives." He ran his fingers through his dark hair, picked up one of the manuscripts again, and gnawed on the eraser of the pencil he'd been using to scratch down some notes.
Jade nodded. "It should be easy then. Find out who the Satanists are."
"Yeah, everyone wears a T-shirt," Lucian said dryly.
She smiled. "There are a lot of Wiccan shirts around, and the usually heavy metal stuff."
He shook his head. "The problem is… it isn't going to be easy at all."
Jade leaned forward on the table. She eyed him carefully. "Haven't you had any more… feelings?
Intuitions?"
He shook his head, frowning.
"But… you should know more, shouldn't you?"
"We're playing in a different league here," he said quietly. "I believe that this is real. I believe, as well, that Megan was fingered long before they came here—why, I don't know."
"But it was Finn who disturbed you."
"Yes."
"Do you think they're using him?"
"I don't know. The 'they' is so vague right now. And the thing is… 'they' are being protected by a strong force. There is nothing that I can see or feel." He lowered his voice. "Eddie could be in on it, and I wouldn't know. Someone found out about the Cabal Thorne attempt here to bring back Bac-Dal. They know that the timing is right, the full moon on Halloween, and more than that, they found the archaic writings—spells and rites—that are used, to bring a demon to life." He hesitated, shrugging. "They've made first contact, and though the demon isn't back in the flesh, apparently he can produce some power from beyond. His followers have already opened a vent. Most of the ancient peoples believed that there was a very thin veil that parted the living from the dead—or such other entities as spirits, ghosts—and demons. Create a crack in that veil ahead .. of time, and you get the power to see that everything is done on Halloween night, when the veil is at its finest, most vulnerable point."
"What do we do?" Jade said.
He smiled. "You, keep reading. I'm off."
"Off?" she said, sitting back, somewhat offended that he planned to leave her.
He kissed the top of her head. "You're a journalist, my love. You know how to sift through material to get to the important facts. I'm a… hm. I'm a people reader. I'm going to go to try to read a few people."
"Hey—you're the one who reads archaic languages!"
"I don't believe we're going to find what we need in an archaic language," he said. He started to smile, but his smile faded. "We're out of time, Jade. Halloween is tomorrow."