Chapter Seven

By the time my phone rang, at 6 precisely, I was set to answer, Adam and Jesse with me, out of camera shot. Bran was not officially listening, though I would bet Adam had his phone connected to Aspen Creek — which didn't bother me, being more useful than not, while if Bran was playing games he was welcome to the earstrain. Adam's system neatly popped the three callers onscreen, and I considered the Man and AED looking with surprise at what their own screens were telling them, while Leslie took it in her stride.

"Mr President, AED Westfield, SAC Fisher. From your speed, sir, I take it you're entirely serious and wanting everybody on board?"

The man blinked and gave me a crooked smile. "I am and we are, Ms Hauptman. You're going to be very good at my job. But there are some serious questions here, even by my standards."

"Oh yeah. Can I hope you weren't supposing sasquatches, sir?"

The smile widened. "You can, though I am fascinated by your reasoning." And faded. "Orcs, however, do not sound good."

"Because most aren't, sir. But some are, and more could be. Think poorer southern Anglos, maybe, most of a century back. Not good at all. But as Hank Dawson said that Saturday, change that seemed impossible proved quite possible, if patchy, with sufficient will and resources."

"Yeah, I remember. Mentioned Ralph Abernathy. Interesting analogy. Orcs do it their way, I'd guess, and he may be a fool, but he's our fool."

"The first, certainly, the second, not so Randy Newman. Try he may be a fool, but he's dead." My gaze swung. "You know, AED, it might be that if there were orcs in those oddly barless cages, another orc told me a while back they'd been killed by their own, for the crime of being caught."

The distaste I'd expected flickered on Westfield's face.

"Might it, Ms Hauptman? That would be a … benchmark to remember."

"Un huh. Then again, AED, suppose unrefusable orders for the killings came from Sauron the super-orc, infinitely amoral and no variety of US citizen or resident. There might be extenuating circumstances." I took a deep breath, looking at the Man. "What we are going to need, sir, is a line drawn — amnesty for the past with future compliance and zero tolerance for breaches. That you have to carry, though if my darker speculations are right you'll be passing the buck right along. You'll also have to pick up the international side — we can supply plenty of data to pass on, but fullest attentions will have to be got. It's also looking like we'll be able to supply a magic weapon usable by anyone with hands — we in this instance meaning wolves and Fae. Medicine Wolf is on board but I haven't yet been able to talk to Elder Spirits. We can supply an enormous amount of domestic intel and targeting data, while you and wolves supply domestic numbers, but it has to be coercion into compliance, not attempted eradication." Another deep breath. "I have made that stick with Underhill and Gwyn ap Lugh, Medicine Wolf agrees, and I will make it stick with Elder Spirits. Mr President, I need your word that your full weight and commitment is behind that, with the sternest instructions given. What do you need to know to give me that word?"

There was a long silence.

"Damn, but you do cut to the chase, Ms Hauptman, don't you just? We're talking vampires, right?"

It was time. "Yes."

"Who need human blood?"

"Yes. Feeding need not harm, and can reward, but mind-tricks and coercion are easier. Donors need not burn out but many do, terminally, or are killed, negligently or deliberately. Observance of law is largely expedient. Turning may be offered as a reward, with consequent bound loyalty. There are suborned humans, Renfields, and employed humans, agents. The strongest vamps can animate the unrotted dead, zombies, which is no kind of fun while they last. Major strengths are physical — speed, translocation, magic, all variable by age and intrinsic or achieved power — and major vulnerabilities are sunlight, though the strongest can daywalk, staking through the heart, fire, decapitation. Almost all are out of it dawn to dusk. Being undead from Turning to final death, which fae call dismissal, vamps have wide immunities to disease and injury but cannot cross a true threshold without invitation. And what we would be doing is supporting a dubious but not insincere set of revolutionaries against a very centralised regime, so it's familiar territory for your Office, sir."

"Ouch." I received a quizzical look. "Why did I ever manage to suppose I'd control any conversation with you, Ms Hauptman? No, don't answer. But do tell me about the dubious vampires we'd be going to bat for."

"Good question, sir. Simplest answer is that while I have several times been … forcibly involved in vamp politics with … significantly suboptimal results for the vamps responsible, those outcomes involved a vamp who has saved my life, as I have saved his unlife. At least one other of great potency is … not unhonourable. A third is a puzzle — a wizard vamp, the eldest surviving, whom one cannot safely recruit but do not want to be not on one's side, and whom I strongly suspect of being coldly pragmatic about his own survival whenever vamps are outed, which he knows is inevitable. He is for my money one reason your words the other day triggered so much, as he was already playing for help in forcing reform. And beyond anything personal, Mr President, there is what I would, if I run, be running for, and against. If you haven't, sir, which I doubt, do the math."

"Huh. And to what sort of compliance could vampires be held?"

"No mind-games, feeding, or Turning without informed consent. Duty of care. Rule of law. But punishments would have to be … condign. De facto, another separate but equal justice, of necessity — holding cells mean squat if you translocate, executions would have to be staking, immolation, decapitation, or exposure, life sentences are indefinite, and prisoners still need to be fed. If it happens, powers among vampires will be onboard for enforcement, but there will be any number of questions, as and when."

"Do I have serving vampires?"

"Not that I know of, sir, and as only the most powerful can daywalk, I doubt it. Ditto police and almost any regular job. Undeath means long-term compound interest, so salaries are unnecessary, but there's a sharp financial gradient between newly Turned and their Makers."

"Almost all outsiders, then, however plugged in. Citizens?"

"Pass. Many Turned here would have been so when alive, but can Undead be citizens, even if they still pay some taxes? Bunfight time."

"And then some."

"Or executive order time, putatively sustained."

"Huh. Maybe. A mess, any which way, but I knew it would be, and the FBPA has a remit, even if they're still grass-green."

"Yes they do, sir. How unhappy will the Farouts be with me?"

He gave a half-grin. "SAC Fisher said that's what you were calling the FBPA. Good one. And some may be unhappy, but more than the humans will be profoundly relieved to have someone on board who actually knows what they're doing and has a track record pulling off human–preternatural cooperation." The half-grin became a full one. "And it'll do wonders for your campaign, Ms Hauptman, if it comes out you're already dealing with half-a-dozen agencies and the Pentagon to nix another preternatural threat. But the sticker is citizenship, and though I'll make no promises about non-citizens who didn't follow the rules, I'll say that if someone was a citizen, and is still walking, they still are — full rights however we'll need that separate but equal deal. And while I can't control what courts might do, I can declare that by Executive Order, and you have my word I will."

I didn't try to conceal relief, and he nodded when I thanked him.

"That's a good baseline, sir, but you said 'didn't follow the rules'. Which ones? Suppose a vamp had been a bona fide undead citizen of Spain living in Spanish territory that got conquered or sold out from under him or her? Or French, or Texan? The distinction of hostile and co-operating is going to be a lot more important than technical citizen or alien."

"Huh. We really are talking centuries old, then?"

"In some cases. Old mind-sets too, which can help or be a serious problem. Think Borgias with enough time to get even twistier."

"I bet." He shrugged. "So. They're there, and we need to do something, but attempting genocide is not it. How do you see any of this working?"

"Carefully." I took a very deep breath, glancing at sections of my grid. "Assuming I hit no impossible snags over the weekend, you could convene that meeting of anti-vamp commanders next week. Data package from us, including a prototype of the magic weapons, and timetable to be agreed. You and the AED co-ordinate joint ops. Then foreigners — ambassadors, most obviously, called in discreetly. How they handle it is their problem, but we'll do what we can to advise, and may be able to do magic weapons all round. The point is to up the power of the next step, an ultimatum to Iacopo Bonarata, the one I called Sauron, Master of the Night and the nearest thing vamps have to a Marrok, which is not very. He gives orders and demands tribute, but doesn't take responsibility. The ultimatum says vamps need to out themselves and comply with code, or be outed with full preternatural and human resources brought to bear, here and as many other places as can be managed. Then the clock starts ticking."

Adam was not happy, but there was no other way I could live with.

"And somewhere in there I make public a possible candidacy. If the reaction warrants, and we'll see, I announce — and that probably means a vamp assassination or kidnap attempt on me, maybe Adam or Jesse."

"For real?"

Both the man and the AED had eyebrows high, but I shrugged.

"Probably. Killing the messenger is always popular, and more so when the message is bone-deep unwelcome. Assume it plays like that, and there could be two outcomes. If I'm dead, it's not my problem. But if I survive, and the surviving is public, the trigger is pulled immediately. And if it doesn't happen or I don't run, the clock runs down and either we're in dialogue or the trigger gets pulled anyway."

"Un huh. And pulling it means?"

"Arrest warrants for non-compliant vamps. No use with translocators but they're few. Did you have the bars of those odd cages analysed, AED?"

"Certainly, Ms Hauptman. Cores of tungsten and a very hard ceramic devised for the space programme."

"And too strong for vamps to bend, or for us to cut."

"I figured. So someone vanished them to get the captives out?"

"Yup, but that took wizardry, which for vamps is in short supply, though very potent when available."

The Man came back in. "And what are these magic weapons? Just enhanced stakes of some kind?"

"No, sir. The main thing is wooden bullets to fit Glock 22s." He blinked. "Lead has no effect, vamps being dead already. We have no guarantee a wooden heart shot with a slug as short as is necessary will work, but there are fair reasons to believe it would, especially as the bullets will be grown Underhill." They all blinked. "No way of knowing until someone tries it, but even if it isn't fatal a wooden heart shot or two should at the very least give any vamp pause. And the vast majority are in motionless fugue during daylight, so if a seethe or individual dwellings can be identified, which many could be, daylight raids would be safest, though agents or Renfields might resist. Serious holding facilities until compliance is promised, but there will be those who won't, and what you do about that I have no idea unless some of what I called revolutionaries are willing to enforce code."

"Which they would do how?"

"The vamp equivalent of wolf dominance, with a threat of final death, and there will be some of that."

"Which doesn't bother you so much?"

"I actually like exactly one vamp, sir, and give one more a pass. I have personal and other reasons to dislike and fear them in general, and I've had to kill one to live more than once." I took a breath. "I just dislike being complicit with ethnic cleansing a great deal more."

There was a silence eventually broken by the AED.

"Knowing what we now know, Mr President, I would second that strongly. The citizenship issues are clearly going to be complex, but I can't offhand see why a grant of naturalisation or … renewed citizenship could not be tied to acceptance of the code. Illegals would be liable to deportation. Ms Hauptman, a vampire would survive a coffined journey?"

"Surely, AED, if the coffin held them."

"How strong are they?"

"Varies, but easily rip-a-human-arm-and-head-off strong."

"Huh. Do tranquilisers work?"

"No circulation or respiration, so no. Tangling wire-cored netting might — anti-drone gear, maybe." That was another thing I'd talked to Adam about. "Or boleros. And the really tough plastics, if you could get them on — there's not much leverage to break a behind-the-back thumb-tie." A thought clicked. "Plastic coffins could be plenty tough and moulded fast. Once they were closed you could inject one of those foams that sets hard to restrict movement and leverage. Vamps can't suffocate, and I'd think only wizardry could beat that, which is rare, so you could just stack them though feeding is necessary — they can starve, though not to death."

I got stares, though after a moment Adam also offered a thumbs-up.

"I won't ask how you thought of all that, Ms Hauptman, but it sounds … surprisingly workable. Are vampires of European origin?"

"Pretty much, AED, so far as I know. All older ones I've seen have been white, but I have no idea about most of Asia or Africa."

"Fair enough. Point is, Mr President, we have good extradition and deportation treaties with almost all European nations, so if we can show any given vampire to be an illegal from somewhere there, they'd have a hard time legally refusing to take them. But getting together the equipment and squads we'd need is a major exercise, and I can't even guess at the timetable necessary."

"No. Any thoughts, Ms Hauptman?"

It was number time. "Wolves know of forty-five seethes nationwide, each with not less than ten or twelve members, but rarely more than fifty, so far as we know, so we're talking a few thousand split into job lots. A lot more human donors and agents, but that's mundane law enforcement. Probably another few hundred who live outside seethes, plus loners scattered about, but that's always going to be a long-term problem. Taking big seethes by daylight isn't. I take the AED's point, sir, but it shouldn't take long to brief and crash-train forty-five strike teams comprising local SWAT and federal agents, plus Special Forces and preternatural support. We went with Glock 22s because lots of people have them, and if military equipment is available there ought to be things that would help."

"Yeah. AED?"

"I'd forgotten how far ahead of the curve Ms Hauptman tends to be, Mr President, but where my first thought was months that sounds more like weeks if we jump on it." He hesitated. "And I do not mean myself, sir, but if you also give someone real tape-cutting and override authority."

"Oh yeah. And you might not mean you, AED, but Ms Hauptman does."

I met Westfield's look before looking at the Man. "Not necessarily, sir. I don't know enough about the relative ranks of those who'd be involved to know whom you need for this. But I and others would be glad if AED Westfield were in senior authority, because he has dealt well and fairly with the preternatural and understands keeping his oath in full while knowing when SOP just won't work. And I'll add two good reasons for whoever holds command to be civilian and, given the Farout's inexperience, FBI — Gwyn ap Lugh thinks better of them than of most humans, which will help considerably, and it would underline the rule of law for vamps and humans dealing with them. You'll need to make it clear in law unjustifiable dismissal is murder, however the victim was already dead and wherever they're a citizen of."

Westfield was back to staring, but after a moment the Man laughed, more wryly than not.

"So we will. At least it'll keep the lawyers busy. Alright, Ms Hauptman, and yet more thanks — that's another of your amazing but viable plans produced way faster than I expected. I don't decide things like this without sleeping on them if I can, but let's say I go with it, which I think I will, and you do run, which I think you will. Your position as an independent is going to be really interesting in all sorts of ways, and some could be genuine legal or constitutional problems."

"Tell me, sir. There's nothing I can do about that, and however I may be involved in briefings I clearly should not hold any authority. But I will need to be able to get to whoever can trigger the response, and he or she would need to accept my word at once and do it." The Man nodded. "For the financial side I have an end-run I'm pretty sure is legal, and I'll be asking the FEC to audit so anything iffy can be stopped at once. But can you push for suspension of campaigning around the Cascadia evacuation?"

"Yes. I'd pretty much decided that was right anyway. Can't stop candidates looking for photo ops, but with a high percentage of Congress having constituents either evacuating or hosting, the main parties will accept suspension of bigger events. Your end-run sounds interesting?"

"Un huh. Wait and see, sir."

I got another grin. "Alright, Ms Hauptman, but do avoid Fae contributions. Foreign money is not good in this."

"No it isn't, sir. But there is a gray area, full-blood fae resident Overhill who own property and pay taxes. Does dual citizenship under the Medicine Wolf Accords include the right to stand for election?"

"Citizenship is citizenship, Ms Hauptman, and citizens can stand. I'd expect a legal challenge, though."

"Me too. Any chance a test-case could be expedited?"

"Maybe. There'd be a good argument delay was itself unconstitutional. You look pleased. Dare I ask who — or what — you are thinking about?"

"One idea was Irpa, in California's 12th ward. She's good with bridges."

All three stared, then joined the Man's explosive laughter.

"Oh please. I'd pay good money. Irpa holds property and pays taxes?"

"She's lived in Haight-Ashbury a while. She can use glamour to appear human, of course, so her neighbours might be a tad surprised."

"Might. You're going to push for other independents in federal and state races, then? Wolves?"

"Yes and yes, sir. Anyone we can get, frankly. But if I get it right preternaturals will be only one element, though important."

"Curiouser and curiouser." The man checked his watch. "Anything else you want to say or ask, Ms Hauptman?"

"Not that's urgent, Mr President, but I'll be talking to the Governor soon, and some of your WD-40 might be needed to unjam state legislatures who need to decide about re-emerging land along the Columbia, Snake, and Flathead, and low compensation paid back when. Lots of federal money and agencies involved in that."

"Oh yeah. We've talked about that, with the job you're doing managing the problem, so yes, I can do some leaning. I must go, but if any major uncertainties get cleared up, word would also be good."

"I might be able to update Sunday evening, Mr President, not before."

"Fair enough. AED, I'd like to speak later, please — call me before you log out. Farewell, Ms Hauptman. Regards to your husband and daughter."

"Of course, sir."

The Man's screen blanked, but Westfield and Fisher stayed, with complicated expressions.

"AED?"

He shook his head, a little ruefully, I thought.

"Just remembering, Ms Hauptman. Continues to surprise and impress still covers it. And while I take your point about not giving you formal authority, your … imprimatur will matter to many, including the FBPA." He smiled. "I do like Farouts. If it was anyone else there could be real resentment, but with you it's more like the other shoe finally dropping."

I didn't like it but couldn't argue, and shrugged. "If you say so, AED. And I have only a general sense of where they're at, from wolves and First People who've signed up, but I'd think this could also … I won't say blood, but temper them as an agency."

"Yes. And human–wolf co-operation. Scent Forensics hasn't hooked wolves to SWAT units as this would."

"Un huh. We're chary of SWAT requests, AED, as you'll understand. Wolves may be fast, strong, and likely to survive lead, but it still hurts, badly, and we have no wish to be pigeonholed as default cavalry for routine law enforcement. SAR has linked us and Special Forces, though — that ghastly avalanche in Utah, for starters."

It had demolished a resort hotel, mid-blizzard, but the Salt Lake City pack and an army base for mountain training had been nearby, and a very swift response that pragmatically accepted any able body, especially if it had wolf-strength, had rescued everyone who'd survived the impact. When TV news hit, a lone camera peering through the blizzard at the arc-lights, Irpa and Þorgerðr had turned-up by archway to pitch in with heavy-lifting, freeing wolves to carry rescued to the nearest point ambulances could reach. It generated a lot of goodwill, and Westfield nodded.

"I'm aware, Ms Hauptman, and understand your wariness about SWAT, but any precedent for co-operation in emergency is good, and will help deflect questions about, ah, the secrecy vampires have managed."

"I doubt it, AED, but the facts are simple enough. Preternaturals won't willingly out one another, and no-one was ready to take on vamps alone, even the Fae, though I gather they've come close — the Undead fundamentally offend them. And what's happening now, besides Elder Spirits and avatars coming out and the Medicine Wolf Accords bearing fruit, is that a particularly bad vamp witch was confirmed finally dead, and if I'm right the next eldest wizard vamp has decided legality is worth thinning ranks, while continuing refusal to out themselves or undertake self-policing has made them a much bigger problem for everyone else."

"Will you be saying that in public, Ms Hauptman?"

"Not the wizard, AED, but the rest, if I have to. And wolves have quite a history with vamps, as do avatars. We've both taken plenty of casualties over a long time, and wolves do a fair amount of policing on our own behalf. An individual wolf can fall prey to a strong vamp, but if it's pack versus seethe the seethe loses fast unless the vamps have big magic or a lot of silver — wolf numbers, strength, and speed, used to the full because such fights are to the death."

"Huh. Policing?"

"No doing things that start anti-preternatural pogroms, because they get aimed at wolves and half-fae, not the vamps responsible. Or else. And yeah, AED, it sometimes means making things disappear, about which I doubt we will be saying anything. As with the vamp amnesty, let sleeping dogs lie and file under qualified gratitude, if only because whatever PD might have had jurisdiction was spared a whole bunch of officers down."

He wasn't an AED for nothing.

"There is that, certainly, but if human corpses disappeared there will be … desolate families. Might a list of names be possible?"

"Beyond my stars, AED, and I do not know such a list could be compiled, but I'll pass the question along. I can say that when Scent Forensics was agreed, vamps were told flat out that any wolf scenting one at a crime scene would not plead the fifth on their behalf. So far it hasn't happened, that anyone's told me about."

"Ah. Good to hear, MS Hauptman — I've been wondering. So vampires walk warily around wolves, as well as vice versa? And the Fae?"

"Yes and yes. A Gray Lord is in no danger, but lesser and half-fae are, and vamps can find them if they're looking. I need to go, AED, but I'll add that for the Fae it's more vamp witches and wizards — few but potentially very bad news, especially the witch now known to be dust."

"So the Gray Lords are seizing an opportunity?"

"As far as I can tell. I'm doing my best to hold back preternaturals, AED. I wanted you in for all the reasons I gave, but also because you have to hold back humans."

"So I gather. Knowing if you're right about the … dubious reformers would be good, and sooner than later."

"It's on my list. But if I'm wrong about that eldest wizard, saying anything to any vamp could spark immediate violence, so you have to trust me on the timing."

"Mmm. I have a very healthy respect for your timing, Ms Hauptman. And I must go also. My regards to Mr and Miss Hauptman. I expect we'll speak soon, Leslie, but warm commendations on how well you handled this."

Westfield cut the connection and Leslie shook her head.

"I earn my pay and then some when you're about, Mercy, but it remains an education. And a privilege, even if I can't tell Jude or Jenna whatall I'm doing. Anything you can tell me about the vampire situation here?"

"There's a fair-sized seethe, and that may have to change, but I can't say more yet, Leslie. Too many unknowns, too much at stake."

"And security in the meanwhile?"

"Stay inside a threshold after dark. Don't admit strangers, ever. I'm working on wooden daggers, and you're in line. And as soon as we have wooden bullets, you get some. Until then a butane lighter on max is probably the cheapest defence. Or keep a stake handy."

"It's such a comfort when received wisdom is right. Do broken chair legs work?"

"If they're wood."

"You've seen it happen?"

"I have. Anything wooden works. Sharpened ends mean less strength is needed, because it has to be a heart shot."

"Right." I got another look from her repertoire. "The more I learn about you, Mercy, the stranger it all gets. Were vampires involved in the mess with Bennet?"

"Oh yeah. Whether he knew what he was dealing with is moot, but it was a vamp pulling his strings. That's a lot of why we weren't sure what Cantrip or other humans knew about vamps, until the Man, the AED, and whoever started putting pressure on us to come clean. And even then."

"Huh. OK. That makes sense. Mutual uncertainties are never helpful. But now it's all good to go."

"Pretty much, Leslie. We go, we go, we go to war To hew the stone and break the door. More or, preferably, less. But I really do have to go."

We exchanged farewells, and as I cut the connection Adam stood and the system buzzed to tell me Bran was calling. A tap put him on screen, with Charles and Anna, and Bran and I considered one another as Adam and Jesse came to stand behind me, resting hands on my shoulders.

"You were all listening in?"

"Certainly, Mercy. So was Gwyn ap Lugh, who agrees that was all excellently done. You realise you have little choice left now?"

"About vamps. Running will be the Great American Public's choice."

"As I said." I stuck out my tongue, and Bran smiled. "Even so. And I received your message, so be assured I was aware of treading a fine line, not without good reason, and have a healthy fear of peanut butter."

"Agyrobutyrophobia."

"What?"

"Fear of peanut butter. You're not alone, Bran. Just don't ever put a wedge between me and Adam, or I will not be forgiving. I know I had my head in the sand, but it's out now, and whatever else I am, I am pack."

"You're Alpha, love." Adam's voice was a comforting rumble. "Bran had to bypass me a little, but the reasons have … expired. And the other Alphas he has talked to are uniformly in favour, some more cautiously than others. I do appreciate the defence, though, and the bottom line."

"As do I, Mercy. Very few threaten to hold me to account." Bran sighed. "And Adam is right you have become very Alpha through your other powers, which is absurd and unprecedented but cannot be ignored. You will, however, have to demonstrate it, and I have warned all Alphas of a national meeting at short notice. It cannot be in Aspen Creek or Kennewick. Any strong preference?"

I shrugged. "Somewhere central, plainly. Not Chicago." If only because Anna hated going back there. "St Louis? Denver?"

"Mmm. St Louis doesn't have a big enough private property, but Denver does. It will double as an anti-vamp briefing also."

That made sense. "Un huh. Anything to say, big brother?"

Charles looked at me impassively, eyes warm. "Only another attacoyote, She Doesn't Only Fix Cars, She Drops People Right In It."

I'd already stuck out my tongue once, so I just gave him a fish-eye. "It still feels like being dropped in it myself, you know."

"I bet, Mercy." Anna sounded cheerful. "But it's more good chaos. Lifting the burden of vamp policing will free a lot of resources we can use elsewhere. And spreading the age problem is another of your miracles."

"Maybe. Warren liked it. And Bran, Warren coming out as born in 1776 could work very well if he was campaigning for state senator." Bran cocked his head, frowning. "I don't know the other bicentenarians, but ask them about running for something too? Unarguable experience and patriotism, and an unimpeachable reason for restricting interviews once elected."

After a long moment Bran smiled widely. "Now that is coyote-sneaky. I'll think about it, Mercy. Let me know how tomorrow goes as soon as you can, please, and be aware, Adam, I may fly down Sunday to talk to ap Lugh and others. We've been clear, but in person will matter with the Fae."

"Of course. Not a problem, Bran, so long as it's afternoon."

"It will be. Go and eat."

Bran cut the connection, and I stood to find myself enveloped by Adam and Jesse.

"The Man and I were right that you can do this, Mom. You are being seriously awesome again."

Jesse sounded earnest, if a little muffled by my shoulder, and I felt my heart lurch a little.

"Your mouth to God's ear, ex-kiddo. But Bran was right about food. Let's go."