I didn’t argue; I just shimmied back up the rope and made my way back to our building. The first thing I did was to make a somewhat belated call to Rory.

“You okay?” I asked.

“Yeah,” he said, his voice sounding sleepy. I’d obviously woken him. “I’m well fed and well protected, although our earth fae is seriously hoping for an attack. I’m beginning to think all fae are mad.”

I grinned. “Make that all sex mad, and you might be right.”

“True. How are things with you? For a while there, I was getting some very troubling vibes.”

“That’s because some nasty shit went down, but I’m here, I’m alive, and the inflictor of said nasty shit is not.”

He hesitated. “Anything we need to talk about?”

“Hunt is no longer a problem,” I replied, unable to keep the satisfaction from my voice—and it was infinitely better than hurt or anger. Either emotion would only have alarmed him, and he didn’t need that sort of worry when he was still recovering from rebirth.

“Ah.” He paused. “Did he hurt you too badly?”

“Nothing I haven’t handled before.”

He was silent for a longer stretch this time, telling me he’d guessed what had happened. “I hope his ending was slow and painful.”

“It was.”

“Good. Anything else I need to know?”

“Frederick has been captured and is in PIT custody.”

“I’m surprised he’s not dead.”

“I think they’re hoping he’ll lead them to Rinaldo.”

“A false hope, I rather suspect.”

“Me, too.” I paused. “Do you need me back there soon?”

“No. Not for a day or so. The fire’s enough until then.”

Which meant he really was getting stronger. Relief spun through me.

“I’ll see you in a couple of days, then.”

“Take care.”

“Always do.”

He snorted and hung up. I shoved my phone back into my bag, then set about making something decent to eat. It was nearly two hours before Jackson finally reappeared. By then, I’d not only eaten my way through a box of donuts but also had “potluck” risotto ready on the stove.

“That smells divine.” He leaned past me to scoop up one of the sausage pieces I’d mixed in. “Tastes pretty good, too.”

“I thought it was about time we refueled our bodies with something other than hamburgers and fries.” I grabbed two large bowls and divided the contents between them. “There’s also some buttered toast if you want it.”

“We had bread?”

I grinned. “It had a green spot or two, but I cut them off.”

“The odd green spot has never harmed this cast-iron stomach.”

“I figured that.”

I picked up my bowl and some toast and followed him across to the sofa. For the next ten minutes or so, there was no talking, just consuming.