Page 107 of Magic's Dawn

His brow furrows. “But what about the werewolf bite?” He looks at Delilah. “Can Bryant transform into a wolf, the same way your father could transform into bats?”

I shake my head before she can answer. “Ros said vampires can’t transform into wolves. They can’t transform into fog, either.”

“Thank god for that,” Haut mutters. “Owen led the hunt the night he attacked you, Rowe, and they chased him back through the barrier before losing his tracks at a gas station. We think he stole a car to get away.”

“We need to reinforce the barrier.” Delilah stands. “And guard our minds from future influences.”

“I have a Maze of Misdirection,” I offer.

“We’ll need more than one.” She turns toward the door. “I’ll speak with Mel and Aspen. You focus on resting.”

“I’ve rested enough,” I protest, even as I yawn.

Haut rises to walk around the bed, pushing the wheeled tray table farther away. With a press of the buttons on the side of my bed, he lowers me back to a supine position.

I glare up at him. “You’re being bossy.”

“You need to sleep to recover.” He leans down to kiss my forehead. “I’ll turn down the lights.”

Stepping away from the bed, he fiddles with the switches on the wall until shadows fill the room. Then he strips off his shirt, and his body shimmers.

A moment later, Greyson jumps up onto the hospital bed to lie across my legs.

Unable to resist the draw of his soft gray fur, I reach down to stroke his head until sleep claims me.

SOUR APPLE MARSHMALLOW

The door creaks open, followed by the shuffle of feet across the floor, closing in on my bed.

I keep my breathing steady and my eyes closed as I wait for the intruder to come closer. The weight of the Maze of Misdirection sits heavy on my chest, lending my mind armor against invasion, while constant visitors guard my body.

Another two days have passed, and my times of being awake have lengthened. Owen, Haut, Tris, and Delilah use my room like a revolving door, rarely leaving me alone.

Earlier, Owen had stopped by to have lunch—consisting of bland, beige foods—and I had dozed off after eating. Since the intruder just walked in, that means Owen has left, likely to join the patrol team to make sure Bryant hasn’t snuck back in. Now that they have his scent, they’re on constant lookout.

Which has left me alone and vulnerable to a sneaky visitor.

The rolling tray table squeaks softly, and my hand darts out, latching around a bony wrist. “Aha! I caught you!”

A slender, paper book raps against my knuckles. “What are you doing? Trying to give me a heart attack?”

I open my eyes to stare at Mrs. Smith. “If you want to see how I’m doing on my puzzles, you don’t have to sneak into my room. You can just come visit me.”

She sniffs and lifts her chin, revealing the waddle of loose skin beneath. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I just wanted to stop by and make sure you weren’t giving the staff a hard time.”

“Tris likes it when I give him a hard time.” I release her wrist. “And I haven’t started on the puzzles.”

“Why?” She squints at me. “Are they too hard for you?”

“I’ve been sleeping.” I reach out to take the puzzle book from her and flip through it. “Though, I don’t actually know how to play sudoku. Can you show me?”

She purses her pruny lips. “You think I have that kind of time on my hands?”

I lift a brow. “Got a pie in the oven or something?”

“Not at the moment.” She pulls up the chair and sits. “I suppose I can spare a few minutes to educate you.”

With patience, she explains how the boxes with numbers work, and the best method for figuring out what goes in the empty squares. The ones at the front of the book are pretty easy, with only six by six graphs, but the ones near the back look intimidating.

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