Jade pushed the b.u.t.ton to end the phone call, staring thoughtfully at her cell. A sound drew her attention to the doorway.

She looked to the outer room. There were a number of customers browsing the shelves.

And Eddie Martin was striding away from the door area.

He'd been listening to every word she had said.

Chapter 19.

Finn carried Megan's bag out to the car.

Martha stood in the parlor, smiling, and yet Megan thought that she still looked uncomfortable.

"It's all right, really," Megan told her.

"Honey, I'm sorry, I'm just worried about you. I like Finn very much. And I may be old, but I certainly see your attraction to him.

It's just that... there's never any excuse for violence," she said very softly, speaking as if she wished she could mind her own business.

"Finn has never been violent. With me," Megan amended.

The way Martha stared at her, she found herself explaining further. "If that story about defending myself by crashing a wine bottle over his head reached you, no such thing ever happened. He never attacked me. I was just angry and hit him with a loaf of bread."

"But you said that you're having strange dreams-"

"I had the strangest one here last night. In fact, I think I went sleepwalking out your front door."

"Megan, no!"

"Cut my foot and everything," she said dryly.

Previous Top Next"Does Finn know about it?"

"No, and don't say anything. It was just a scratch. I don't want him insisting I sit all night. I've been walking on it all day and it's fine.

Oh, Martha, I know you're worried, but we're going to be fine together. We've talked a lot of things out."

Martha shook her head unhappily. "You're going to leave on November first, right when we could have spent some real time together."

"Right now, Aunt Martha, I want to get home to New Orleans." She hesitated. "You come and visit us! Then we'll have some real time together."

"It's just terrible that you've come home... and been so unhappy here."

"I haven't been unhappy here. Just-stressed," Megan said. Martha still looked so depressed that Megan put her arms around her and hugged her tightly.

"Maybe tomorrow," Martha suggested, "you and Finn could both come here for dinner before going to the club. Halloween night.

No restaurant in town will be able to make anything decent-it will just be too crazy."

"I think we'll just be too crazy," Megan murmured. Lucian had warned them not to say anything about leaving. But this was Aunt Martha.

Martha was studying her keenly though. "Um. I see. You're going to bolt out on Sam Tartan, huh? Megan, have you seriously thought about what that will do to your careers?"

"We're not bolting out on anyone," she lied blithely. "I just want to say a real good-bye now, in case we don't get time together tomorrow."

"You really think you should go back to Huntington House with Finn? Maybe you should have both stayed here," Martha said firmly.

"We'll be fine," Megan said. She wished she believed it.

Finn came back to the door for her. "Ready? Martha, you know, you've been wonderful. To both of us. Thank you so much for everything."

"I'll see you two sometime tomorrow," she said stubbornly.

Finn gave her a kiss on the cheek. "Sure. Megan, ready?"

She hugged her aunt tightly again. "I love you," she said. Arm in arm with Finn, she walked out to the car.

As they drove, she looked over at him. "We've got one small problem, you know."

"Hm?"

"What about the equipment?"

He stared ahead for a moment, then turned to her with a rueful smile. "Nothing is worth our lives, or our marriage," he told her. His fingers curled around hers where they lay on the seat.

Megan smiled. The world around them was dark out here by Martha's, yet she suddenly felt she could see the light at the end of a very long tunnel.

The shift was changing at the hospital. There were three shifts of nurses each day, but it didn't matter who came on, when Dorcas considered herself to be the authority on her ICU patients.

Janice Mayerling, twenty-eight, attractive-and with an actual life outside the hospital, thank you very much-listened to Dorcas, trying to control her temper as the other nurse gave her a long list of commonsense instructions having to do with Andy Markham.

Janice didn't really know Andy-she had recently moved to the area, having heard that the hospital was in need of registered nurses and that they paid well. She hailed from Connecticut, not so terribly far, but far enough, and close to New York, where the world might be somewhat insane, but constantly so busy that there could be no silly fixation with one period of history, as there was here in Salem. She didn't mind working tonight because she was off the next night, which meant that she had Halloween to party.

If you were going to live in Salem, you had to take advantage of a good party night.

"A lot of people around here think that they can say they're next of kin to old Andy, and they'll try to get in. You don't let them. I already let Martha see him for a minute, hold his hand, talk to him. There was no change. A flu bug can kill Andy in seconds flat.

Quite frankly, I doubt that he'll make it anyway, but he always was a good old codger, despite his flights of fancy, so we're going to do our best to see that he lives. Understand?" Dorcas demanded.

That was it.

Janice did lose her temper. "Dorcas, I don't know about you, but I do my best to see that every patient in my care lives!"

Dorcas stiffened down to the soles of her nurses' shoes. "There's no call to get uppity, Janice. None at all. I'm stressing that this patient needs extra attention."

"Martha, it's an intensive care unit! Our patients are here because they need extra care."

She wasn't going to back down. Neither was Dorcas.

"I had best come in tomorrow and find out that Andy is alive and still holding his own!" she warned.

Janice bit her lip. The third floor nursing supervisor was coming down the hallway. She wasn't going to stoop to a brawl in front of the woman.

"Good night, Dorcas," she said firmly, and turned away.

She waited until Dorcas had finally departed and went in to check on old Andy Markham. IV running, vital signs weak, but steady.

He would still be termed critical, but stable.

It was going to be a long night, Janice thought.

She went to read the rest of the doctor's notations at the nurses' station. "Trust me, Dorcas, the old b.u.g.g.e.r will still be kicking when you come in tomorrow," she muttered.

She frowned, suddenly, a shiver ripping through her as the lights seemed to dim, as if giant bat wings had swept through a corner of the hospital.

"They've got to fix that air-conditioning!" said Toby Wyatt, hugging herself where she sat at the phone station.

"And the lights," Janice agreed. She hesitated, then set down her notes and walked back down the hall to look at her patient, Andrew Markham.

No change.

She was still... cold. And little shivers still seemed to trickle down her spine, one after the other.

Finn showered and changed at Huntington House.

Megan had been sitting on the bed, waiting for him, but when he came out of the bathroom, she wasn't there.

He dressed quickly, and went into the dining area and then the parlor, looking for her. Sally, the pretty young blonde, was sipping tea, minus her husband. She smiled at Finn. "Hi, how's it going?"

"Good, thanks. Have you seen my wife?"

"Actually, yes. She was in here getting a cup of tea. Strange, too! Susanna walked in and saw her, and nearly dropped the tray she was carrying, she was so startled to see her, though why she should be startled to see a guest, I don't know. Anyway, Megan, your wife, helped her pick up the mess she made, got her tea in a to-go cup, and headed outside. I think she wanted to talk to Mr.

Fallon, because he had come through the parlor before going out to water some of the plants by the house."

"Thanks," Finn said, and turned quickly.

"Hey, we'll be there tonight!" she called to him.

"Thanks, we appreciate the business," he told her, calling over his shoulder. He didn't know why, but he didn't want Megan alone anywhere near Fallon.

When he came out the front entry, though Megan was on the walk, Fallon was nowhere to be seen. He hurried to Megan. "Hey!

You scared me. And I'm not so sure you should go looking for Fallon on your own. The old fart is creepy."

Megan smiled. "I think he's all right. Just a Wiccan."

"Oh?"

She kept smiling.

"So... ?" he queried.

She lifted a tiny velvet bag.

"And what's that?"

"It's a little satchel of some stuff called burdock," she said, and went on to explain, "It brings luck-and wards off evil spirits."

"You really think a little bag of stuff can help?"

"It can't hurt."

"You got it from Fallon?"

"Yes."

"Are you certain that it is the stuff called bird-whatever?"

She laughed. "Pretty certain. I've seen it at Morwenna's."

He nodded. "Okay, if it makes you feel better.""Actually," she said, "it does." She stroked his cheek. "I'm wearing a pretty little medieval cross I picked up at a shop today, too.

One or the other might just kick in."

"Sure," he said.

But he wondered unhappily just how many vulnerable young murder victims had been found clad either in their gold crosses or Jewish stars.

"We'd better get going," he said.

From the window of Huntington House, Susanna watched Megan and Finn go around to the parking lot. When they were gone, she hurried outside.

At first, she saw no sign of Fallon.

Then he came ambling around the house, the garden hose in his hands.