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struggled to hold him down. He strained under her. He was strong like a horse. Her magic still spiraled around him, wrapping him in a cocoon of sparks, straining to heal the damage as he moved. Without knowing it, he was leaning on her healing power like a crutch. “I have to put him under. He can’t move, or he’ll rip everything open.”
    â€œWho did this to you?” Éléonore asked. “Richard?”
    Richard pushed against Charlotte, lifting her deadweight. She felt the newly mended tissue tearing. His hold on her magic faltered. She felt him slip.
    Richard’s eyes closed, and he crashed back into the truck bed. Charlotte leaned over him. Out cold.
    Ã‰léonore turned to the boy. “Kenny, help us get him into the house.”
    Kenny grunted. Magic snapped, accreting around him. He reached over, picked Richard up like a toddler, and carried him inside. Charlotte dropped the ward stone back in place, and the four of them followed him.
    â€œWhere to?”
    â€œGuest bedroom on the right.” Charlotte pushed the door open.
    Kenny deposited Richard on the spare bed and turned around. “I’ve got to get to mom’s house.”
    â€œThank you, sweetheart.” Éléonore said. “Say hello to your mother for me.”
    Kenny nodded and went out.
    Charlotte knelt by the bed. Richard’s pulse was still even. Good. “How do you know him?”
    Ã‰léonore sighed. “I’ve met him before. His first cousin married my grandson-in-law’s adopted cousin. We’re family.”
    Family, right. “Is he a blueblood?”
    â€œNo. He lives in the Weird now, but he’s an Edger like us, from the Mire. When I first saw him, I thought the same thing—some sort of noble house. But no, he’s an Edger.”
    â€œWho is Sophie?” A wife? Perhaps, a sister?
    Ã‰léonore shrugged. “I don’t know, dear. But whoever she is, she must be very important to him. I can tell you that Richard is a skilled swordsman. He was teaching my grandsons how to fight the last time I was in the Weird. Whoever ran him through is likely dead.”
    Charlotte let her magic slide over Richard’s body. A skilled swordsman. She could believe that—his spare body was strong but supple, honed by constant exercise. His blood pressure was still too low. In time, his body would replenish the blood he lost, but it would take a while, and she didn’t want to gamble.
    He had called her beautiful.
    She knew she was a reasonably attractive woman, and he had been delirious, so it shouldn’t have mattered, but for some reason it did. She had stayed away from romantic relationships in the Edge—one Elvei was enough—and she had almost forgotten she was a woman. A single word from a complete stranger touched off something feminine inside her. She felt unreasonably pleased when she remembered his saying it, as if he’d given her a gift she really wanted but didn’t expect. He would never know it, but she was grateful for it.
    Charlotte rose and got her cell phone.
    â€œWho are you calling?” Éléonore asked.
    â€œLuke. Richard will need a blood transfusion, the sooner the better.”
    â€œShould we leave?” Daisy asked.
    Ã‰léonore held her finger to her lips.
    â€œYes?” Luke answered.
    She put him on speaker. Holding the phone to her ear was really awkward. “It’s Charlotte. I need A+.” It had taken her a few weeks to learn the Broken’s medical terminology, but with the help of books, she had eventually prevailed. She’d identified Richard’s blood type when her magic slid through his veins.
    The EMT fell silent. “I can get you two bags. Five hundred.”
    Two pints. It would have to do. “I’ll take it.”
    â€œMeet me at the end of the road in twenty.” Luke hung up.
    â€œFive hundred dollars?” Daisy’s eyes were the size of