12 — LimitJen let Jack lead her back up the stairs and up to Brigid’s room. She was very aware of the size of him in a way that she hadn’t been in years — aware of the callouses on his hands and the silver in his hair.
As they reached Brigid’s room, both of them gazing down at that bed that had been the scene of so much magic over the past day, rather than up at the achingly lovely ceiling, a pulse of something passed through Jen — something lower than sound, brighter than light — and she gasped. “Brigid.”
Jack squeezed her hand and nodded. His eyes showed concern but his brow was unfurrowed.
Another pulse of whatever it was passed through them, and Jen and Jack both shivered.
He murmured, “She’s fine, sweetheart. Just blowing off some steam.”
“Hell of a lot of tea,” Jen tried to joke
