"I know you," Patrick said.
"Wait," I said. "So you did jump--"
Footsteps sounded outside the door, a shadow stretching in. Then a voice said, "Ms. Jones has reached the maximum number of visitors, sir."
A man's murmur, too low for me to identify. Before Gabriel made it halfway to the door, the nurse said, "Briefly, please. She really does need her rest."
"Of course. I appreciate your understanding."
Now I recognized the voice. Patrick tilted his head as if he did, too, but couldn't quite place it.
The newcomer walked in carrying flowers and a perfectly wrapped basket of fruit and chocolate. Then he saw Patrick and stopped.
"Ioan," Patrick said, walking toward him. "How long has it been?"
"Not nearly long enough."
Patrick lowered his voice. "Everyone says that. You'll need to do better if you want to insult me." He took the flowers and basket. "Thank you so much. Liv will appreciate these. It's too bad you can't stay, but we have a lovely parting gift for you." He handed Ioan the book. "It's a ripper."
Ioan looked down. "Is this...your book?"
"One of them. It's signed to Liv, but you can scratch that out and write in your name. Oh, and if you can leave a five-star review on Goodreads, I'd appreciate it."
Ioan set the book down. "I'm here to talk to Olivia. Alone, please." His gaze flicked to Gabriel. "If you would take your epil--"
I coughed. Patrick said, "No, my book stays. Epilogue and all. So do I."
Behind Gabriel's back, I shook my head for Ioan. Epil is Welsh for offspring, and the word the fae use to refer to their sons and daughters. Luckily, while I may have used the term in front of Gabriel, he hadn't been paying enough attention to recognize it now.
"Liv was just about to tell me about her river plunge," Patrick continued. "If you want to hear it, you may stay."
"One, I wasn't about to tell you anything," I said. "Two, as the patient here, I think I get to decide who stays and who goes. Yes, you may both stay. Yes, I will tell the story...on the condition that you'll help me figure out what the hell is going on, regardless of our agreement."
"However," Gabriel interjected, "any lifting of the terms is temporary, confined to this discussion only, and does not in any way relieve either party of their contractual obligations going forward."
"Would you like that in writing, Gabriel?" Ioan said.
"Preferably, yes. But in this instance, I believe you and Patrick can act as our witnesses to each other's agreement, given that you are unlikely to collude in disavowing that agreement."
Ioan gave a dismissive wave and moved forward, as if getting closer to my bedside, while effectively putting Gabriel at his back. When my lips tightened, he wisely shifted to the side.
I told Ioan and Patrick the story. When I finished, I said, "The obvious issue here is that there's a young--apparently human--woman who works with lamaie. And she knows enough to set up fae-detection traps."
"Mhacasamhail," Patrick said.
Ioan shook his head. "There's no such thing as mhacasamhail."
"No such thing as fairies, either."
"Don't I wish," Ioan muttered.
"Not unless you're into self-annihilation."
"The Cwn Annwn are not--"
"Are, too."
"My God," I said. "How old are you two?"