Jared and I walked to the Escalade in silence. Both of their arguments made sense. Who could disagree with either side when they both wanted to protect someone they love? My first inclination was to insist Jared hold up his end of their bargain, but protecting me meant protecting our child. Bean was my first priority.

Jared seemed even more conflicted than I. He was a good man, and going against his word clearly bothered him. He was right; we needed to search every clue—every figurative and literal meaning of every paragraph of the prophecy. Forcing Heaven and Hell into a war was a last resort, and we couldn’t be sure unless we explored every option.

I slept fitfully that night, dreaming about wars and demons and of Bean. My brain ran incessantly, stuck in a pattern of scaring myself awake, and then falling back asleep, only to imagine a new frightening scenario. In the hospital, in St. Ann’s, in the Loft, we fought the demons over and over, but every dream ended the same: Bean would be in my arms one moment, gone the next. Panic would take over my every thought, but we all knew it was too late, and nothing more could be done. Desperation would plague me as I insisted Jared figure out a way to find and save our baby, and then unbearable sorrow when I realized it was over…and then my eyes would open.

“Nina,” Jared whispered, following my name with smooth, short phrases in French. For whatever reason, French always seemed to comfort me, and Jared could sense that. His fingers combed through my hair, and his lips grazed the edge of my ear.

The sun cast shadows on every wall of my bedroom. I blinked, trying both to clear my vision and remember what day it was, reminding myself that what seemed like a lifetime of heartbreak was only a dream.

Jared kissed my cheek, and I turned to face him. “That was a rough night,” I said. A tear fell from the outside corner of my eye, down my temple.

Jared used his sleeve to wipe the wet line away. “I noticed.”

I looked out the window. “You know what will make me feel better?”

“What’s that, sweetheart?”

“Training.”

Jared nodded. “I thought you might say that. When do you want to start?”

“Tonight, after I put some time in at Titan. Is Bex busy?”

“I don’t think so. I’ll ask him, but he’s always up for some sparring with you.”

I forced a sleepy grin. “You should cut in once in a while. I’m sure I bore him to death.”

Jared smiled. “We’ll see. I’m going to whip up some blueberry pancakes.”

“I’m going to whip up a lather in the shower. Do we have salsa?”

Jared’s head jerked back a bit. “I think we have some left, yeah. Why?”