“I’ll break his neck,” Curran whispered, his voice vibrating with so much menace that I almost winced. The muscles on Curran’s arms hardened with tension. He was probably picturing killing Hugh in his head. I wouldn’t want to be Hugh d’Ambray at this point. Between me and Curran, his prognosis for a long life didn’t look good.

“Ghastek says the vampires here are feeding on each other. If you kill one, they’ll swarm. How’s the barricade?” I asked.

“It will hold for a couple more hours.” He stroked my shoulder and kissed my hair. I leaned against him. It felt so good just to know he was here.

“You can have one more nap and then I’ll carry you,” he said.

“I might manage a walk.”

“That would be good, but if not, I’ve got you.”

I wrapped my arms around him again. There were things I wanted to say, but I didn’t know how. He’d crossed half of the country, broken into an impenetrable prison, and found me against all odds. There were no words to explain to him how I felt about that.

“I love you,” I told him. There. Nice and simple. “I knew you would find me.”

He smiled at me. “I would never stop looking.”

And he wouldn’t. He would’ve kept going until he found me. I had no doubt of that.

He reached into his jacket and handed me something wrapped in a rag. I unfolded the fabric. Slayer’s other half. I imagined sliding it into Hugh’s eye. It was that or start crying, and I would not cry in Mishmar.

“Can it be repaired?” Curran asked quietly.

“No.” I’d broken the tip off before, once, and Slayer regrew it, but this break was right in the middle. My saber was done. An old friend had died. Thinking about it made me cringe. I stroked the blade. It was like a part of me had been cut off. I felt . . . naked. “Even if I managed to fix it somehow, the blade would always have a weak spot.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Thank you. Hugh got under my skin and I got careless.”

“Don’t worry, I plan to get under his skin, too.” He curled his fingers as he did when he had claws. “He won’t like it.”

We sat quietly for a long minute.

“I brought your other saber,” he said.

“The Cherkassy?”

Curran nodded.

“Can I have it?”

He reached over and pulled it from the pile of backpacks. I drew the slightly curved metal blade from the sheath and ran my fingers along it. Not the same.

Curran nudged the container of food toward me. “Eat.”

“Feeding me again, Your Furriness?”

“Of course,” he said. “I love you.”

It made me feel warm all over.