Finnegan didn't ask another question. He took the stairs three at a time.
The bedroom door hit the wall. The sound of water. The soft, continuous hiss of a shower running somewhere beyond the master bedroom's en-suite.
And suddenly Finnegan’s mind supplied him with every nightmare he had ever cataloged, and they hit him all at once, a coordinated assault.
She's hurt. She sent the babies away because she's hurt. She's in there washing off blood. She's collapsed on the tile floor. The channels overloaded again, the magic burned her from the inside, and she's lying in there dying, and you're standing in the bedroom like a fool, you're standing here, MOVE—
He hit the bathroom door with the heel of his hand and it swung inward. She was standing under the spray. Her head was bowed, her fore
