From the corner of her eye, she saw Harry haul Fletcher’s half-clothed body to his bare chest. Wanda was there, throwing her coat over his shoulders before pulling Jeff with her while Marty brushed the dirt from his nostrils.
Wanda pulled Jeff to her like he was a rag doll. She opened her shirt, never once stopping at how awkward it was to have a fully-grown, strange man who wasn’t her husband, naked and in her arms. She began rubbing Jeff’s arms, speaking to him in words Mara couldn’t hear, her fear Mimi wouldn’t wake up pounding in her ears.
“Fletch—it’s Uncle Harry. Wake up, buddy. I need you, Fletcher. I need you so much, pal. Please, wake up!” Harry’s frantic plea, gravelly and raw, tore at Mara’s soul.
Scooting near Harry, she huddled against him, both of the children on their laps, their heads bent as they whispered to them. Tears fell, but Mara couldn’t be sure if they were hers or Harry’s.
And the wind howled while Nina knelt in front of them and sheltered them from the chilling cold, clamping her hands on their shoulders, kneading their flesh to keep them as warm as a vampire could.
Marty came up behind them, stretching her arms across their backs, rocking, whispering prayers, soothing.
Mara’s heart crashed as they rocked, her hand reaching for Harry’s. No, God, please, please no.
He clamped his hand around hers, pulling her and Mimi tight to him.
And they rocked. They rocked while Nina spoke hushed words of encouragement. While Marty, tears falling from her face to Mara’s naked back, pressed closer, rested her head in the space between Harry and Mara.
“Uncle Harry?”
All of their heads shot up. Eyes met, wide and in wonder.
Fletcher, sleepy-eyed and drowsy, looked up at Harry and Mara. “Where are we?”
Harry gathered him up, hauling Fletcher’s weak body to his chest, burying his face in the boy’s neck. His shoulders shook in silence as Marty stroked the top of Fletcher’s head. “Oh, thank God. Thank God,” he husked out, his voice tight and raspy.
Fletcher didn’t fight him. Instead, he snuggled closer, letting his cheek rest on Harry’s shoulder with a weak sigh.
Mara froze when Mimi stirred, reaching for Nina’s hand to help keep her upright.
Nina flopped to the ground, her beautiful face a mask of relief. She tugged on one of Mimi’s curls. “Well, look who’s awake? ’Bout time, little lady. You sure are lazy,” she teased, running her finger along Mimi’s pert nose.
“Mara?” she whispered against Mara’s skin—the most beautiful whisper in the world.
She gulped, fighting the onslaught of tears while Marty dabbed at her cheeks, silent tears of her own coursing down her face. “Yes, Mimi?”
“Where’s Uncle Harry?”
Mara’s breathing hitched, but she fought the lump in her throat. “He’s in Africa, playing with the elephants. You want me to tell him you called?”
Mimi giggled—it was weak and it was thin, but it was a giggle. That was all that mattered. “He is not.”
Mara nodded, fighting a cringe when the wind tore through her flesh. “Is, too,” she said, smiling down at Mimi’s beautiful, precious face, fighting the urge to squeeze her hard.
Mimi reached upward, her hand slow and shaky. She touched Mara’s cheek with a finger and smiled sleepily. “Do you think Uncle Harry would let us have an elephant?”
Harry pulled Mara and Mimi closer, cupping Mimi’s rounded cheek with a smile, his eyes glinting in the dark. “He will not, Miss Mimi.” With another shuddering breath, Harry let his head fall back on his shoulders and blinked his eyes for a long moment before finally lifting his head.
The sound of a helicopter roared above them, lights shone down, coming from all directions in the sky.
Harry looked at her, his teeth beginning to chatter. His eyebrow rose in question.
Mara rolled her eyes, fighting the violent shudder of cold ripping through her. “Keegan. He can smell Marty from a hundred miles, and he’d rent a jetliner to get to her, if that’s what it took.”
Nina knelt beside them, looking down at Fletcher and Mimi. “Hear that, dudes? That means it’s time for you to go to sleep now. So close your eyes.” She ran light fingertips over their eyelids. “And dream sweet dreams for Auntie Nina.”
Both children took deep breaths before their eyes fell closed and they slumped against Mara and Harry.
Harry looked to Mara again, though it was with complete trust, melting her heart. “Should I ask?”
“She’s erasing their memories. So they’ll never remember . . .” Mara closed her eyes trying to regain her composure. If she let the horror in—even just a little—she’d close her eyes and never open them again.