But—my Hæra, Madeleine had said. And just a couple of hours later, she’d blessed Hæra again with the taste of her blood. Its savor had warmed her from head to toe. By the depths, there was nothing like it.

At the first taste, she’d feared she wouldn’t be able to stop. How could she, when it was the taste of bliss? Madeleine had moaned, as if she’d felt the same.

Well. That wasn’t going to happen again. Next time Madeleine pricked her finger, Hæra would get her a plaster as requested. And she wouldn’t even look at the blood.

What a night. Madeleine had claimed her and let Hæra taste her. Hæra hoped the sea witch didn’t really expect her to return with her despair. No despair could touch her when she had something like this, even if it was temporary.

As she approached the farmhouse from the cottage, she stopped in her tracks and frowned. Jonathan stood outside the back door in his pajamas. Standing in profile, he looked blankly toward the pastures and hills.

“Jonathan?” she asked in alarm as she hurried forward.

He didn’t move. Just kept staring into the distance.

“Jonathan!” Hæra snapped as she reached him.

That did it. He gasped and turned around. “Lass! You near gave me a heart attack.”

That better be an exaggeration. He was too pale, and doctors had warned him enough. Hæra’s own heart galloped unpleasantly. “Are you all right? What are you doing out here like this?”

“I…erm…” Jonathan looked down at himself, seeming to notice his own pajamas. “I thought I heard something.”

There was nothing in the pastures but sheep, cattle, and dogs. The only sound, as always, was the damned wind. Hæra said through her teeth, “Like what?”

“My name, I think.” He shook his head. “I must have been only half awake. I probably thought it was you calling me.”

“Well, I wasn’t.” Hæra looked around. Nobody else was in sight. Connor and Jim wouldn’t arrive for another hour or so to start the day’s work. “Were you dreaming? Perhaps you sleepwalked.”

Jonathan scoffed. “I haven’t done that since I sobered up. Never mind it. I’m not hurt, and all’s well.”

All wasn’t well if Jonathan was hallucinating voices and walking about in his pajamas. Hæra’s stomach lurched as she remembered what she’d learned of aging humans. How they could begin to misremember things or think they were elsewhere. They might forget their own loved ones, or even who they were. “You should see the doctor next time he’s on the island,” she blurted. “I could go with you.”