Page 73 of A Lullaby for Witches

“Well,” Ellen said, absently twisting a turquoise ring around her finger, “I can’t say that I’m surprised that Margaret would try a stunt like that, but I’m glad that you were stronger. I was knotted up with worry for you when Leo brought you back up to Pale Harbor and I realized what had happened. Then he took off so quickly...” Her words trailed off as she leaned over, gently brushing the hair out of Leo’s closed eyes. “It could have been worse, so much worse.”

“I can’t believe this,” Pat muttered. “Augusta, what has gotten into you?”

A heaviness pressed down on Augusta’s chest. This was what she had been afraid of all along: that the people she loved and respected wouldn’t believe her. Even her own mother—who apparently believed in family curses—thought she was lying. Leo had believed her, though. A lump formed in her throat.

“Leo will back up everything I told you when he wakes up,” she said quietly.

There was no question that Leo would wake up—he was only under a mild sedative—but what if he wasn’t really Leo anymore? He might still be Jack, trapped in his own body as Augusta had been. Or even worse, they could both be gone, leaving only a shell.

Ellen was the only one who seemed to share this concern, and she met Augusta’s gaze over the sleeping body of her son. Even in the harsh light of the hospital room, he was beautiful, his chestnut hair damp against his temples, his full lips slightly parted.

And then, as if he sensed that he was being watched, there was a flicker of movement under his eyelids, and then his eyes were slowly opening. The doctor had warned them that he would be groggy and possibly disoriented when he woke up. Augusta held her breath, afraid that if she spoke too loudly, she might scatter his spirit away, never to return. “Leo?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

At her voice, the other women broke off in their conversation. Ellen leaned forward, grasping his hand in hers.

He blinked, his gaze flitting between them until it settled on Augusta. Did he recognize her? Did he know that it was really her and not Margaret?

“It’s me,” she said, hesitantly placing her hand on his arm. “It’s Augusta.”

The steady beep of the machines and muted threads of a conversation down the hall were her only answer. He seemed to regard her with his clear gray eyes for an impossibly long time. Finally, the corner of his lips tugged upward into the world’s weariest smile. “Hey,” he croaked.

“Oh, thank God,” Augusta said, sagging back into her seat at the same time Ellen gave a cry of relief.

“My baby,” she said, leaning over and giving Leo a long kiss on the temples. “You scared us all to death.”

“I’m Pat, Augusta’s mother,” Pat said, her arms folded. “We spoke on the phone.”

Whatever Leo thought of this reunion, he was so surrounded by the flurry of kisses and fussing that Augusta couldn’t even see his face to find out.

When Ellen was finally satisfied that Leo had enough blankets, could move all his limbs, wasn’t too hot or too cold, she straightened up from his bedside. “We should see if Terry and Lisa ever found that coffee. I think you two have some catching up to do. I love you, baby,” she said, holding his face in her hands and planting a kiss on his forehead. “I’ll be back in a little bit.”

“And I have some more questions for you, young lady,” Pat told Augusta, “but we’ll talk later.”

The door clicked shut behind them, leaving Leo and Augusta alone with the humming machines. Augusta fretted with her hospital bracelet, trying to find the right words. When Leo caught sight of her ankle in the brace and the plastic band around her wrist, his eyes went a shade darker. “What happened? Were you hurt?”

“Just a few bruises,” she hurried to assure him. “I’ll be fine.”

His fingers curled around the blanket, and if he weren’t so laid up and tired looking, Augusta would have been worried that he might try to get out of bed and inspect her himself. “And what about Margaret? Is she gone?”

That was a good question. She didn’t know if Margaret would come back, if she couldcome back, but Augusta had a feeling that she was gone for good. After the fight for control on the rocks, there had been a change inside of Augusta. She had found something so deep within herself that she had never known it was there. Something strong and powerful, too strong even for Margaret to breach. It left Augusta feeling capable, self-possessed, even if she could not identify what it was.

“She’s gone,” Augusta said with confidence. Then she hesitated. “Leo, what do you remember?”

He closed his eyes, taking a long swallow. “Could you pass me that cup?” he asked instead of answering her.

She passed him the plastic cup and he drained it. “God, I’ve never been so thirsty in my life.” It didn’t seem like he was going to answer her, but then he spoke, his voice so quiet she had to lean closer to hear. “I remember everything. Margaret, the ceremony, Jack being in my body.”

Holding her breath, Augusta waited for him to go on. Leo had been studying the cup, turning it over in his hands, but he finally put it aside and looked up, his gray eyes bright and almost mischievous. “Mostly I remember thinking that I was going to be pretty fucking mad if a one-hundred-fifty-year-old lovers’ quarrel was the reason I’d never get to see you again.”

His tone was light and the corner of his mouth was turned up, but there was a question in his eyes, a sliver of vulnerability.

“I would have been pretty mad, too,” she agreed, finding his hand and lacing her fingers through his.

“So,” he said.

“So,” she agreed.

“What do you want to tell Jill and everyone at Harlowe?”

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