I tied off the last stitch, cut it, and picked up the bottle. “Okay, brace yourself.”

Osan nodded. I poured brandy over the wound. His muscles went tight, and he made an agonised sound. I set the bottle down. Blood and alcohol seeped across his back, and I gently dried the mess with a towel.

“Done,” I said.

Osan groaned, fists clenched around the edge of the couch. A setback, I told myself. Could have been worse. I leaned back against the cushions, giving him time to compose himself.

After we left the execution grounds, he had brought me to this place. I assumed it was where he lived. The loft struck me as a little sad—although it was secure, it seemed bare and lonely; there was no evidence of sentiment, nothing of his personality here.

He had departed soon after that, only to return a few hours later, haggard with pain. Rhyanon and Jaylen were safe, and Asan had been released from custody. As far as he could tell, no one had followed him.

It was all too much, the risks he had taken on my behalf. And how could I convey my gratitude, when I required still more from him? He sighed when I picked up the roll of gauze and some tape from beside the water bowl. I carefully wiped his shoulder dry and laid gauze over the wound.

“I expected you would be more upset,” he said quietly.

“I am.”

“And yet?”

I shrugged. “Would you prefer it if I fell apart? And at least Finn’s not dead.”

“He’s a Haunt.”

“Yes.” I taped the gauze in place. My voice dropped. “And I’ll take that over dead.”

Osan sighed again.

“He’s not going to remain the man you love,” he said.

“I know. I know it’s selfish. It just seems…” I stopped. Busied myself with the tape.

Osan didn’t say anything. I handed his shirt to him.

“I get it,” I said. “Wishful thinking.”

“Men don’t come back once they’re infected. You of all people should know that.”

I shrugged.

“Elfreda—”

“He’s still human now. Let me have that.” I submerged my hands in the bowl of water, washing them clean. I softened my tone. “I’m sorry for dragging you into this. And for getting you hurt again.”

“I wasn’t dragged anywhere.”

“No, I’m … I would never have managed without you.” I glanced across at him. “Thank you.”

“In that case, you’re welcome.” He pulled the shirt over his head. “So, what now? Rhyanon wants you to join her at the new safehouse and wait until the situation calms down.”

I shook my head.

“Yeah, I told her you wouldn’t like that. So?”

I stood up. “Can you find Daje Carsel?”

“I could. But what do you want with him?”

I explained my idea. Osan’s expression grew grimmer with every word, but he kept silent. When I was done, he did not tell me that my plan was insane, although he must have been thinking it. Even I could see the multitude of ways that this scheme could come crashing down around me, and even if it worked, what would I really gain?