And she couldn’t have said that if she was hurt too badly, could she?
Sleep fell over him, a heavy drape of unconsciousness.
“He’s okay,” Ava whispered to the darkening evening sky. “He’s okay, he’s okay.” She’d sat vigil for so long, her legs had forgotten how to work. Finally, at the absolute insistence of her family, she’d taken the long walk to the main doors of this wing of the hospital. She’d lost all track of time; she was surprised to see the pinking sunset sky unfolding over the city. The air was hot and fragrant, but it went down into her lungs with the sweetness of home.
She should have known they’d never let her go alone, she reflected, when she heard the doors slide open behind her and a familiar pattern of footfalls approached her from behind. Ghost drew up alongside her, mirroring her posture staring up at the sunset, his hands in his jeans pockets.
“I didn’t expect it to be this hot down here,” he said. “It’s like a jungle or some shit.”
“It’s nice,” she said, voice hollow. “I was too cold inside.”
She heard the familiar sounds of him lighting a cigarette. “If you want,” he said, “you and your mom could go to the clubhouse. Or a hotel, if you want. Catch some real sleep. Take a hot shower.” When she glanced over at him, he said, “I’ll stay with Merc.”
“Thanks,” she said, not sure what to make of his attitude. “But, no. I’m not leaving him alone in this place.”
“The hospital?”
“New Orleans.”
His eyes moved over her face; she wondered what he was looking for, didn’t really care.
Something in the parking lot drew his attention and he turned toward it, touching her arm at the same time, gesturing with the hand that held his smoldering cigarette. “Heads up.”
There was a woman walking toward them, stepping up onto the sidewalk. Dressed in unfashionable jeans, Timberlands, a knotted flannel shirt over a white tee, her hair hastily scraped back, her face looking years-older than the last time Ava had seen her, Evangeline O’Donnell approached with hesitancy. Her mouth was pressed in a narrow, tight line, her eyes wide and questioning.
“Friend of yours?” Ghost asked in a stage whisper.
Ava said, “Evie,” and something in her tone brought the woman up short, three feet from them on the sidewalk.
To Ghost, she explained, “An old friend of Remy Lécuyer’s. Her husband said Larsen’s men had her. They were using her as leverage, to get him to show them the way out to Saints Hollow.” She spoke loud enough for Evie to hear, her voice cold and matter-of-fact.
“Ava,” Evie said again, her lips parting and trembling. “Don’t hate us. We never meant–”
“For us to get killed?” Ava asked. “And just exactly what did you think would happen to us if those men captured us?”
Evie batted her eyes and took a deep breath. “It wasn’t Larry’s fault. They put a gun to my head. They said they’d do awful things to me if he didn’t do what they wanted.”
Ava pressed the knuckles of her good hand to the base of her throat. What would she have done in the same situation? Sacrifice her spouse? Or the friend? There wasn’t a choice there.
An idea took shape in her mind, as she stared at the woman, caught between sympathy and blinding hatred.
Ghost watched, silent, a fixture against the hospital wall.
Ava said, “You knew we were being hunted. The first man, the scout. In the black hoodie. He stopped by your house, didn’t he?”
Evie swallowed and batted at the tears in her eyes.
“He was a local, a tracker Larsen hired.” Info Tango and Aidan had learned thanks to the NOLA Dogs’ digging. “And he found you two first, and you sent him to the Hollow to find us. Didn’t you?”
She knew the answer, but the way Evie’s eyes bulged proved her correct.
“After all your superiority, the way you lectured me about taking care of Mercy, and you sent someone out into the swamp after us and didn’t even think to call with a heads up.”
She ducked her head. She had no defense.
Ava swallowed and felt the lump rise in her throat. “I’m sorry your husband’s dead,” she said, and Evie made a choking sound; she lifted tear-filled eyes. “But I can’t forgive you for what you did to mine.”
Evie sniffled into the back of her hand. “Is he okay? Felix, I mean. I came to see him.”
