The Witch With No Name

by Kim Harrison

  Nina was hot on Ivy’s heels, the jealous little vampire scowling. I watched her visibly catch herself as the scent of frightened vampire hit her. Eyes lowered, she concentrated on the floor. Ivy, though, pushed through it as if it wasn’t there.

  “Rachel,” she all but breathed as she reached me, and I rose to give her a hug. “I-I . . . ,” she stammered, and then, “Are you okay?”

  I almost missed the flash of guilt that crossed her. It wasn’t reflected in Nina, as much as sanctioned by the crafty woman’s smug expression. “I’m okay,” I said, my suspicions tightening. Something had happened . . .

  Feeling it, Ivy let go. “Trent texted me that you might need some help.”

  “Trent?” I hadn’t seen him on the phone. Surprised, I turned to Trent, stifling a shudder at the sensation of mystics peeling off me to dance in the pheromones and guilt she was giving off. “When did you have the time?”

  Trent shrugged, the rims of his ears reddening as he watched Cormel’s thugs begin to leave. “I type fast.”

  “Like a fourteen-year-old girl!” Jenks exclaimed, a happy ball of dust at his shoulder.

  Cormel was putting his coat on with a formal stiffness, clearly not liking being watched by the admittedly proud but helpless FIB. We weren’t done yet, but I’d given him something to think about as he sulked in his hole in the ground.

  “Too many people in here,” Nina muttered. She was doing really well despite the fading stink of frightened vampire. And then it struck me how good Ivy looked, a flush to her cheeks and moving better than she should for having been in intensive care less than two days ago. My eyes jerked to hers, and a flash of self-loathing and guilt crossed her before she turned away. Even having access to Trent’s full-strength Brimstone shouldn’t have her looking like this.

  “Ivy?” I questioned, and Jenks rose up, clearly pleased when Edden walked in, glancing at us as he shook Cormel’s hand and held the door for him.

  “Don’t let the door hit your ass on the way out,” the pixy smart-mouthed. “Trent, you call him, too?”

  “Yes,” Trent said from behind me. Fingers trailing reluctantly from me, he went to Edden, the stocky FIB captain making his slow way to us. The gray looked a little heavier, the worry wrinkles a little deeper, but his eyes were just as sharp and his smile inviting when he saw me.

  But even as I met his smile with my own, I ached for Ivy’s guilt. I wasn’t seeing the effect of Brimstone alone. She’d satisfied her hunger for blood, and not just the little sips she’d been allowing herself while making love, but a huge grasping amount that was selfish and demanding. Nina had goaded her into it, and she had succumbed. It would account for Nina’s increased stability as well, which might be reason enough to ignore it but for the little fact that it meant Nina was only exchanging one master for another.

  “Ivy,” I tried again, and she turned away.

  “Rachel!” Edden boomed, the force behind it honed by years of arguing with thickheaded FIB officers. “How did I do?”

  He was grinning, and I couldn’t help but smile back. Catcalls and hoots rose up as I gave him a hug, rocking back and seeing his pleasure in the embarrassed flush on his round face. “I owe you, Edden,” I said, and he smiled all the wider. “Big-time. Don’t ever do it again, okay?”

  “It was a calculated risk.” Edden looked out the plate-glass windows, a flicker of spent worry saying he was lying. “Cormel doesn’t want any bad press right now. We just need to travel in packs more often.”

  “Or pair your men up with a demon,” I said flippantly.

  Edden’s feet scuffed on the painted floor. “Ah, yes. About that.”

  Jenks’s wings clattered in the new chill flowing in with the outgoing officers. “Can we go now?”

  I nodded, spent adrenaline laying like a heavy coil in my middle as I waved my thanks to Mark. He was behind the counter stoically handing out drink coupons as he refused to make anything despite his being open twenty-four hours a day. Mr. Fish was probably dead from the cold in my cup holder, and I wondered if I dared a warming charm lest I cook him.

  “Your folks okay, Ivy?” I asked as Nina all but bolted to the door. I really wanted to talk to her, tell her that one night of hunger was not a failure, but she wouldn’t look at me. Jenks shrugged, his shifting dust telling me he’d figured it out as well. What a pair we were; Ivy had fallen off the wagon and I was harboring mystics again.

  “Ah, Rachel . . .” Edden pulled me to walk beside him, and I winced as Ivy strode out the door, her head high and jaw clenched. “Rachel, you talked to the demons,” Edden prompted.

  “I’m working on it,” I said as I hesitated before going out. “You should be okay tonight unless someone gets a wild hair up their, ah, yeah.” My voice faltered as Trent breezed past. “It won’t get bad until they know if the sun is going to force them back,” I finished, voice softer.

  Edden seemed pleased as he stuck his thick hand out for me to shake. It was rough, with just the right amount of strength, and I felt a moment of connection, of being needed, part of something. “That’s all I can ask for,” he said, making a “wrap it up” motion to get his men out. “Thank you. I’ll have someone get right on your arson case.”

  “Thanks.” The welcoming feeling grew as I left and took a deep breath of the good Cincy air not stained with vampire or demon, but smelling of deep river and chill. Cormel’s car wheels crackled and popped over the loose stones on the pavement as they found the street and drove away. The taillights blinked red at a stop sign, and then they were gone.

  I shivered, not moving as Trent handed me my bag. My stomach rumbled, and I looked at my hands. They weren’t shaking anymore. The mystics were back. “Ivy?”

  Trent was right next to me, and I turned to him. “Trent . . .”

  A shiver took me as he tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “We have time. All the time in the world.”

  “Thanks.” Feeling breathless, I spun. “Ivy!”

  She hesitated at her mom’s car, the door already open. Nina grimaced from the other side, and I paced forward, head down as I rummaged in my bag. “Here,” I said, feeling unsure and nervous as I stopped before her. “I, ah, made this for you.”

  Behind her, Mark was pushing out the last of the FIB guys, locking up and bolting the door before shutting off the lights. Fingers shaking, I found the cool shape of the tiny bottle. Nina pressed jealously close as I put it in Ivy’s hand, and they both looked at it, the faceted shape catching the buzzing streetlight. “What is it?” Ivy asked, her usual hesitancy where my magic was concerned blunted.

  “It’s something to catch your soul in,” I said, curling her cold fingers around it. “Keep it in your pocket.”

  Ivy’s head snapped up, and I could have cried at the hope in her eyes.

  “Until Felix laughs and means it, I’m not calling this a good thing, but if you have your soul in a bottle, then it’s not in the hell of the ever-after,” I said. “You don’t have to do anything, just keep it within your aura. And don’t open the top once your soul is in there.”

  “You did it?” Ivy said, looking at the stop sign where we’d seen Cormel last.

  “Well, we’ve not tested it,” I offered, but she pulled me into a hug, her hand fisted at my back pressing into me hard. “I can’t imagine that if you get your soul back right away there would be that much trauma.” It was a hope only, but one I clung to with the same fervent wish that Cormel clung to his lies.

  She was nodding as she pulled back, her eyes dark with unshed tears, anxious to be away. Behind her, Trent leaned against the car, thoughts pinching his brow as he waited with Jenks on his shoulder.

  “I’ll be at my dad’s.” She hesitated. “Unless you need me?”

  Nina was smiling, but it was a thinly disguised grimace. “Cormel is going to be too busy tomorrow to worry about us,” I said, looking for my keys until I remembered Trent had them. “Dali and Newt are terrorizing Trent’s house, so I’m going over there to run inter
ference.”

  “Okay.” Her eyes came back to me, and she hesitated, looking for words.

  “So it’s the younger who find their souls first?” I blurted out, not wanting her to go until I could tell her she was a good person, and she shook her head even as Nina clenched her jaw, clearly wanting to leave.

  “No, it’s how close you are to your death place.”

  “Cormel died in Washington,” I said, thinking he’d have a long wait if his soul had to travel only by night. Unless he went to find it.

  “Only those within twenty miles of their death are reuniting, but he expects it to make it here in a week.” She hesitated. “If nothing changes.”

  “That’s the same time frame he gave me to get rid of the demons,” I said, glancing at Trent when he started my car. It wasn’t a silent rebuke to get me to hurry up, but a way to get Jenks out of the cold.

  Eyes holding guilt, Ivy gave me a last hug before turning away. Grim, Nina hustled to the other side of the car and got in. I backed up, reluctant to leave Ivy alone, though I knew she needed to be with her dad. Her mom would be distraught but safe. I’d found out last year that she’d died in New Orleans. It would be weeks until her soul found her.

  But what made my steps slow as I walked back to my car was knowing that Cormel knew I was right, otherwise he would’ve gone to find his soul. He knew I was right, but he wanted me to be wrong so badly that he was ignoring it.

  Tomorrow was going to be one hell of a day.

  Chapter 18

  It was anguished and alone, even as others of its ilk hovered supportively nearby—forgotten and abandoned, curled into a tight ball in the center of my presence like a lion cub seeking comfort from a dead lioness—unresponsive even as everything about her screamed memories of comfort and warmth.

  I saw myself through it, my dream cycling down to this tiny spot of torment until its heartache became mine. Confusion and betrayal soaked into me until I wept, not understanding. I’d searched for so long, and now there was nothing. I’d been forgotten, like a dream finding the window shut against it.

  She doesn’t see, the mystic moaned to the others, and they clustered about it, trying to make it feel better, that it would become. But it wouldn’t.

  I took a breath in my dream to shout that I saw them, that I was here, that I was. But a soft gong distracted me, blurring my intent. It came again, and my dream broke apart as the waves of sound moved through my unconsciousness and pushed me awake.

  That’s Trent’s alarm, I thought groggily as a chill slipped under the covers. The bed moved and my weight shifted as Trent pulled from me, stretching to reach his phone.

  I sighed, eyes closed as he rolled back, his warmth up against me now dulled with a sheet between us. The weight of a hand pressed into the bed at my left shoulder as he propped himself up over me and leaned to try to see my face. “Rachel, did you want to get up?” he whispered. “I can tell you what happens.”

  A fuzzy-feeling smile came over me, and I rolled onto my back. Eyes opening, I tucked his hair behind one of his pointy ears as he hung over me. The light was dim with the coming sunrise since the drapes at the French doors to the garden were open, and it made his eyes dark. He was himself but different. “I like you best this way,” I said, seeing him rested and still soft with sleep, smelling of soap from his shower before he’d come to bed.

  The bed shifted as he found my fingers and kissed the tips. “The sun doesn’t wait for lovers or villains. Up or not?”

  I groaned, gaze on the elaborately painted ceiling of horses and the hunt. The sun had risen on the East Coast almost half an hour ago, and we both wanted to know if the demons and vampire souls had been pulled back to the ever-after. “Up,” I said, and his smile widened at the pained sound in my voice. This was insane, getting up at dawn, but I was starting to become used to it even if my stomach hurt and my thoughts were slow. Horrors, as my mother would say.

  Trent kissed my fingertips again. “I’ll see if the coffee is going,” he said as he rolled to the edge of the bed, and I watched him, listless and unwilling to move yet. The faint light outlined his skin, accenting his abs and thighs defined by his horsemanship. I sat up and shoved my tangled mess of hair back and tried to imagine his gorgeous body tamed by the years, more mature but no less attractive. Yes, I wanted to be there, but as I looked at the shadowed opulent room with its heavy furniture and extravagant lushness and attention to detail, I had a hard time seeing myself here longer than a weekend. On the few occasions I’d been here without Trent, I’d felt lost, as if I was curling in around something that didn’t recognize or have a need for me. Sort of like my dream.

  Propped up against the headboard, I watched him hike his slacks up. My God, the man had a nice stomach. “I’m going to miss you today,” I whispered.

  Trent’s smile vanished briefly as he put his shirt on. Head down over the buttons, he said, “Believe me, I’d rather be spending it with you. Just because I have the right to speak before the dewar doesn’t mean they have to listen.” He worked the last button and tossed the hair from his eyes, making my heart stop with his smile. “You want to try to meet up around noon?”

  I fumbled for my own phone, squinting at it and seeing that I’d gotten a call from Edden last night. It wasn’t tagged as urgent and I set it back down. I’d been planning on spending the day with Jenks and probably Ivy at the church to find out what we’d lost and what could be salvaged. “Only if you’re really available,” I said as I scrunched back down into the warm blankets. “You know you’re not going to have time for a coffee, much less lunch.”

  The bed shifted as he sat next to me to put on his socks. “I’m only going to be across the river. There might be more support among the dewar than at first glance. It’s easy to stand by and do nothing, even when you know it’s wrong, harder when someone calls you out on it. If we have a wave of suncides this morning, it will be easier.” My smile froze, and he looked up, one sock in hand. “That’s not what I meant.”

  “I know,” I said, touching his hand.

  Expression grim, he put his ankle on a knee. I’d seen him do it a hundred times before, but never to put his sock on. “That doesn’t make me feel any better or this any easier.”

  I was silent, my hand tracing along his back as he leaned over his foot. “Trent,” I said softly, remembering my dream. “Are the mystics still with me?”

  His fingers fumbled, and alarm brought me still. “Ah, why do you ask?”

  “I had a weird dream.”

  His smile wasn’t exactly fake when he stood up, but he was hiding concern, which only fueled my own. “Not unusual when you’re woken up early,” he said, words a bit breathy as he dragged a shoe out from under the dresser. “You scared me last night.”

  “Really? What part?” I scooted farther back, against the headboard. “When I tried to throttle Cincy’s head vampire, or when I stood up to Mica?”

  His expression caught at me when he sat back down beside me. “When the mystics found you. Rachel—”

  “Oh God. It’s bad, isn’t it?” I said.

  Smiling, he cupped my face, but there was sorrow in his eyes. “You might be sparkling just because you’re glad to see me.”

  Crap on toast, it was bad. My hands clenched themselves, and I looked at them, twisted about themselves into a knot in my lap.

  “Rachel,” he breathed, pulling me to him. My arms went around him and I held my breath, trying not to cry. I hadn’t called them to me even if I’d missed them. I’d done everything right, and I was exactly where I’d started. The elves hated Trent because of me, and with the mystics, I’d probably lost the demon support, too. It was falling apart, and I couldn’t stop it!

  “You’re not hearing anything, are you?” His words shifted my hair, and I shook my head. What happened in a dream was not reality. And there were no voices showing me visions around corners. His grip on me shifted, and I looked up to see his relief. “Then you’re okay,” he said, making my heart
almost break that he cared that much. “Promise me you’ll tell me if you do.”

  “Promise.” My foot twisted under me was falling asleep, and my other, hanging out over the edge of the bed behind him, was getting cold. I wasn’t going to move, though, not with Trent holding me, telling me he loved me without even a word. “What time is your appointment?”

  His breathing shifted, his shoulders tensing. “Nine forty-five.”

  It was only a few hours away. “I’m sorry,” I said as he let go. “If it wasn’t for me, the enclave would be listening to you and you could have stopped this before it started.”

  Trent’s eyes widened. “Is that what you think? Rachel, if not for you, then I’d probably have been the one to start it in the first place. I like who I am. Do you know how long it’s been since I did? Listen to me.” He took my shoulders, leaning over to find my eyes. “You and I are an excuse for the dewar to try and wrestle control away. This would’ve happened regardless.”

  “But not to this extent,” I said, and he collapsed in on himself, holding my hands between us as he chose his next words. “You can’t be the Sa’han if you’re with me,” I said miserably. “They won’t let you.”

  “It’s just a title,” he said, but even I could hear the lie.

  “One that gives you a voice, one that people follow.”

  His lips pressed into a resolute line. “I’m not letting you go, so stop it. We’ll get through this. Besides, if the demons call me the Sa’han, then maybe that’s enough,” he said, a hint of worry tugging at the corners of his eyes.

  “Maybe,” I said miserably. I will not cry. I won’t!

  “The demons won’t listen to Landon, but they might me. I’ve ridden the hunt with them. Fought beside them to eliminate a threat. If that’s not being the Sa’han, then what is?”

  The depth of his commitment shivered through me in the predawn gloom. “But how . . .”

  “This isn’t your fault,” he said, bringing me to him again, and the tingles his whisper started racing through me. “We can do this together. I can’t do it alone. I don’t want to.”