was stuffed inside. She still had no shoes and her feet were filthy. Joy paced her room, feeling the adrenaline ebb, leaving her weak and shaky and altogether freaked out. She didn’t like it. Even with Ink’s wards protecting her house, she was supposed to be able to live her life free from harm—that was what the Council had promised after she’d helped them take down Aniseed.
She stopped pacing. “Is this Edict thing for real?” she asked. “Was that what triggered the ward?”
“No,” Ink said, examining the room. “That was me.”
That still didn’t explain what had happened before he’d arrived, when the armored knight had reached for his sword. Joy frowned. “How did you find me?”
Ink blinked his fathomless eyes and smiled.
“It is you who have Sir John Melton’s boon,” he said. Joy still had a tough time believing that her four-leaf clover actually worked.
“Good thing, too,” she said, rubbing her arms as if cold. “That was... Is there a stronger word for ‘terrifying’?” She shook her bangs from her eyes and paced in place. “So are we sure that the Edict’s actually working?” she asked. “I mean, if it’s not protecting me, then what about Dad? Or Stef? My brother’s coming home soon...” The idea of putting her family in danger made Joy physically sick.
“The Edict is in place,” Ink said. “I attended the Council session myself.” His voice kept its steel of certainty. “Your family is safe, Joy.”
Joy twisted her fingers in her shirt. “Well, if I’m so well protected, then what happened back there?”
Ink almost shrugged. Almost. The subtle cues he picked up from Joy were making him seem more and more human every day. He was learning. They both were.
“Nothing happened,” he said matter-of-factly. “Which is most likely what the Council would say if we brought it to their attention.” Ink held up a hand to forestall comment. “You were not actually injured,” he pointed out, his black eyes sweeping over Joy. “They would agree that you look well enough. Yes, it was more than a threat, but not much more.” Ink rolled a piece of wood pulp between his fingers. “Yet...this person knew about the Edict?” he asked quietly. “He knew who you were?”
Joy rubbed at the spots of mud on her ruined capris. “I said the words the Bailiwick taught me, and the guy heard me just fine,” she said. “I think I can safely say that he knew exactly who I was.” She rubbed harder as if she couldn’t stop. Ink crossed the room and took her hand in his.
“You are hurt,” he said simply and tapped his chest. “Here.” He tried to catch her eye to confirm it, but she looked away. Her brain still twitched with firefly sparks. Her heart still pounded—she’d been so scared!—but it seemed as if she was only now feeling it, fierce and intense. Joy shivered. Ink squeezed her hand—it was something he’d learned how to do.
“I did not see it before,” he confessed. “But I know that just because a thing cannot be seen does not mean it is not there.” His voice lilted, coaxing. Joy nodded and squeezed his hand back. Her face felt hot. Her hands felt cold. She was overly conscious of Ink’s worry feeding hers. He sighed. “I cannot take back what has happened, and I cannot undo it,” he said. “Would that I could.” He brushed the hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear, his fingers lingering there. She remembered that first touch. His voice was open, crisp and clear. “What can I do?”
She whispered, “Hold me.”
Ink brought her close, and Joy wrapped her arms around him, pulling him hard against her as if she could press his solid calm into herself. Her heart thudded against his chest, an answering echo rebounding against her skin. She took several deep breaths, and it was several heartbeats later before she realized that he was copying her every move: his hand was in her hair just as hers was in his; his touch on her back was exactly where her palm rested on him. She could tell by the subtle changes of his body and skin that he was moving his senses to accommodate her—his muscles grew more pliant, his skin warmed to the touch, the strength in his arms became more like flesh than like stone. Joy smiled at herself and at him.
“Thank you,” she said. “This is perfect.”
He rested his chin on her shoulder. “A hug means many things,” he said. “Over thirty-six, by my count.”
Joy chuckled. “You’re counting?”
“Yes,” he said.
Joy laughed aloud, watching his smile dimple. Ink was funniest when he didn’t realize it.
“You feel better,” he said.
Joy nodded. “I do.”
“Good,” he said. “Then I will go and see what ‘happened back there.’” He dropped his hands abruptly. Joy thought maybe they should work on his exits. She stepped back knowing that the wards he’d carved around her home would keep her safe, but she felt better having him there. Just in case.
Ink paused, inspecting her face. Perhaps he saw her concern? He was getting very good at reading her subtle cues.
“Do not worry,” Ink said and underlined the statement with a slice of his razor, unzipping a door through time and space. He placed a slow kiss on her bottom lip, soft and tender. He felt that. She did, too. “I will return soon.”
Joy nodded and was still nodding as he disappeared, realizing a second too late that he’d left the smoldering sword behind.
She yanked her bathrobe off its hook and threw it over the longsword, snatched her phone on her way to the kitchen and quickly closed the door behind her.
Just in case.
* * *
She texted Stef, asking about his ETA, then pinged Monica as she entered the kitchen and leaned her elbows on the breakfast bar.
Home at last, she typed. Shift over = FREEDOM!
It took her best friend only a second to reply, if that.
Lol! Celebrating? Happy dance?
Joy smiled. After standing on her feet all day, she hadn’t gone dancing in weeks. She’d almost forgotten that places like the Carousel existed. Almost. You free?
Expensive as always, but im worth it!!!
Joy laughed as she sat down on a stool.
“Hi, honey.” Her father waved from the den. “I didn’t hear you come in.”
“I’m a ninja,” Joy said as she typed back a series of smiley faces. “It’s all part of staff training. It’s why we wear black.”
Her father chuckled as he hauled himself off the couch with a groan. His new gym routine included heavy cardio and weighted squats. Despite the grumbling, he had lost almost thirty pounds. He looked good, if tired. “I didn’t know waitresses required the art of stealth.”
Joy smirked. “We’re sneaky that way.”
He tugged her ponytail as he passed her on the way to the counter. “Well, I’m glad you’re home safe,” he said. Joy felt a twinge of guilt as
