The knife wielding man by the bed was pounding at the man he was supposed to kill with his free arm, but the dark-haired patient didn't loosen his grip while he was looking up at her, staring, hoarsely whispering, “Mither.”
LouElla felt her heart leap and she kenned this twas a Thalian. Not just any Thalian, but a larger duplicate of her brither, Lamar, and rage pounded through her. She could nay lose her laddie now. She moved forward and heaved the kneeling man with the knife upward by the neck and head, twisted, and heard the neck snap. She tossed him next to the other on the floor. Then she sat on the bed and gathered her Llewellyn into her arms, murmuring, “My laddie, my laddie.”
MacDonald's massive arms enfolded his mother as he laid his head first on one shoulder and then the next,
