Page 63 of The Devil's Ice

“I remember,” the little girl said solemnly. “She got hurt helping me.”

“She did, but she told me that she doesn’t care about that, and you’re not to worry about it,” Zoe said. “She said that she’d do it again a hundred times if it meant that you were safe.”

“And I am!” Keira exclaimed, dancing on the spot, then she seemed to sober a bit. “Can I hug her?”

“Let’s ask her,” Zoe said. “I really don’t know what her neck can take right now. OK, little flower?”

“OK.”

The door opened now, and Tank called out in his deep voice, “Just us!”

“We know,” Honey called back. “In the kitchen.”

Two sets of footsteps approached, and then there they stood in the doorway, Tank his usual massive, menacing self, and Vixen, looking even tinier next to him. She looked tired, Zoe thought, and no surprise: she was healing from a serious shock and a worse injury, and Zoe honestly wondered just how much sleep she was actually managing to get, seeing as she couldn’t lie flat.

“Vixen!” Keira said, reaching out to her, then hesitating. “Can I hug – Mommy said –”

“Keira cutie,” Vixen said with a huge smile. “If Tank helps me get into a chair, then you can definitely hug me… just not too hard, OK?”

“OK!” Keira said excitedly, turning to Zoe. “Icanhug her!”

“I’m thrilled to hear it,” Zoe said. “Because that means thatIcan too.”

“After me!” Keira said bossily. “Right, Vixen?”

“Right,” Vixen told her, walking over to the chair that Zoe had just vacated, holding Tank’s huge hand as he eased her into a seated position. “You first… so come on, then. Where’s this promised hug? I’ve been looking forward to it fordaysanddays.”

Keira shot across the room at roughly warp speed, but slowed down as she reached Vixen, looked at the woman, waiting to see what she would do. From the waist, Vixen turned her whole upper body to the right, opened her arms, and Keira stepped into them. She curled into Vixen’s chest, very still, her tiny hands on Vixen’s knees.

“See?” Vixen whispered into her blonde curls. “We can do hugs.”

“I see,” Keira whispered back. “Vixen?”

“Yes?”

“Will you still come to my birthday party?”

Vixen leaned back so she could meet Keira’s dark eyes, saw the worry all over the little girl’s face.

“Of course I’ll come.” She gestured at her neck. “Did you think that I couldn’t? Because I’ll be all healed up, and out of the brace by then.”

“Nooooo. I thought maybe – maybe you were mad at me. Mommy says that you aren’t, but I thought – well. I was a bit worried.” She reached out and touched Vixen’s cheek, as light as a butterfly kiss. “I know that these marks won’t ever go away. Is that my fault?”

“Keira, honey.” Vixen smoothed that tousled hair back off her anxious little face, held her eyes. “I promise you, I’m not mad at you, and I never was. Not even for one teeny, tiny second. Andnoneof it was your fault, at all, not one single part.”

“But – but your face.”

“My face is totally fine.” Vixen gave her another smile. “See? It still works, and to tell you the truth, I don’t care about the scars.”

“You don’t?”

“I don’t.”

“Not at all?”

“Nope.” Vixen winked at her. “Can I tell you a secret?”

Keira shot a look at the other adults in the room, who immediately pretended to be engrossed in looking out the window again, or pouring coffee for the woman who saved her child’s life, or staring at his gargantuan booted feet.

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