Annie Tolliver woke slowly. It was an ability she’d cultivated only in the last couple decades or so, ever since she and her Jack had retired from adventuring—where the ability to wake up slowly was not an asset, let me tell you—and she relished the chance to once again practice it. The time in that other place had been… Off-putting. To be able to see and hear what was going on in the real world, but not to effect it, nor to know how any of the others were faring, had given her a chill.

But now the warm, reassuring bulk of her Jack pressed against her side, and his hairy arm was flopped across her abdomen as he snored in what he would be mortified to find out was a very cute manner. And that warmth chased away all manner of chills.

She let the sleep slip from her like an old comfortable robe and took a deep breath. Her eyes opened slowly, her gaze taking in the small room her son had given them in his dungeon. It was a little thing, and nowhere near as nice as the room they’d shared in Melloram… But it was warm and cozy and—most importantly—safe.

Well. Physically, anyway.

The emotions that had roiled within her breast stirred again as her thoughts poked them back to life. Marie. Her Marie. Back from the dead to cause all the problems one might expect when a loved one appears after years gone and with power in her grasp. It had taken her and Jack a long minute to come to grips with that, and even longer to talk things out with the girl who had been like a daughter to them.

And poor Sam, caught in a razorwind of emotions like he was… She couldn’t blame him for the solution he’d come up with, nor the way he was avoiding dealing with the bulk of it. He’d be able to work it out, she was confident, but it would take time.

And lord, wasn’t time in short supply these days.

“You awake?” Her Jack’s voice rumbled distractingly into the back of her neck, and she shivered in a way that had nothing to do with cold. Nothing at all.

“I am,” she said, rolling over into his wakening embrace and planting a soft kiss onto his nose. “And I see you are too. Sleepyhead.”

“You kept me awake half the night with your snoring,” he said, his bluff features creasing into the private grin he saved only for her. “Can’t blame a man for trying to recapture what was taken from him.”

“I do not snore,” she said, raising an eyebrow.

“How would you know?” he asked, still grinning that grin.

“Same as I know my own mind, Jackson Tolliver,” she said with a grin of her own. “And do you know what’s on my mind right now?”

His brows rose in bemused affected befuddlement. “Breakfast?”

She poked him in the ribs under the covers they shared. It was like poking a side of beef wrapped around steel.

“Breakfast,” she echoed, rolling her eyes. “Soul of the romantic, you have. Here you have a lovely wife in bed with you, practically throwing herself at you naked, and your first thought is about food?”

“I would have thought you’d want me at full strength,” her Jack said with a rumbling chuckle she felt through her own chest.

“I know you, Jackson Tolliver,” she said, looking into his eye and letting her grin soften to something warmer and deeper. “You always rise to the occasion.”

“Hm, you’re right,” he said, and his voice, like her grin, lowered into something deeper and for her alone. “In fact, I think I can manage that right now. It has been a while, hasn’t it?”

“Two weeks and three days,” she confirmed. “You were working hard on the bonehead’s dungeon, and then…”

“Yeah, and then.” Her Jack brought one of his big hands over and ran it gently up her thigh. “Maybe we should see about making up for lost time?”

“Sure and I think I’d like that, Jack…”

Twenty-five years together, and the man’s kiss could still curl her toes. Gods and devils, she’d gotten lucky with this one.

Things were progressing apace, to both their enjoyment, when—of bloody course—someone knocked at their door.

“Oh no,” Annie moaned. “Go away or I’ll kill you with me bare hands.”

“Who is it?” her Jack called, louder and with far more congeniality than she was feeling at that particular moment.

“It is Cora,” the quiet feminine voice of the strange core came through the wood. “I’m sorry if I woke you…”

“If we ignore her, maybe she’ll go away,” Annie said, pressing up against her husband.

“What is it, Cora?” Jack asked, damn the man.

“It’s… Sam.”

All thoughts of bedroom fun disappeared. Both of them sat straight up and swiveled, planting their feet on the floor and rising like it was choreographed. She snatched up the robe she’d confiscated from the showers the other day, and Jack—she sighed regretfully—yanked his trousers up. They both reached the door at the same time, but it was Annie’s hand that closed around the knob and jerked it open.

“What about Sam?” they both asked at the same time.

Cora, bless her heart, barely flinched under the parental glares.

“He’s… I’m not sure. He has been working on something since late last night.” Worry creased her silvery features. “He has not slept. At first I thought he would have to rest sooner or later, but… He has asked one of his clerics to use spells to increase his awareness and effectiveness. I am worried for him. He seems… Strange.”

“Oh lord,” Jack muttered and pressed the heel of his hand against his good eye.

“You think?” Annie asked, glancing over at him.

“Sounds like it. Thank you, Cora,” he said, blinking his eye open and sighing. “You were right to come to us.

“Is he…” The metallic girl’s face twisted up in worry. “Is he unwell?”

“Oh no, quite the contrary,” Jack said, turning to grab a shirt from the table and tug it on—damn the man. “He must be feeling good if he’s gotten that wrapped up in a project.”

Cora blinked. “I don’t understand.”

“He’s not sick, dear,” Annie said, patting Cora’s shoulder reassuringly. “Something’s just grabbed his attention is all. He’s not unwell, he’s just focused.”

“But then,” Cora frowned, watching Jack hop around trying to put his boots on, “why are you concerned?”

“Because my darling son,” Annie said, rolling her eyes, “often gets so wrapped up in his work that he’ll forget little things. Like to eat. Or that taking amphetamines to stay up for three days straight is not a good idea.”

“Oh. Dear.” Cora swallowed. “So… What do we do?”

“We go have a talk with him,” Jack said, finally returning to the door. “And make sure he’s taking care of himself while he’s focused.”

“And Whack him if he isn’t,” Annie added with a wicked grin. “That part’s my job, dear. Come on, let’s go see what our darling boy is up to this time.”