by Kim Harrison
My grip on it tightened. I’d lost contact with the ley lines at about level three. There wasn’t much in the bag to begin with, but I was loath to let it go. One by one, I was being stripped of my defenses.
“And your phones?” he added smugly.
Sighing, Trent dug in his pocket. Expression amused, he handed the clerk his phone, cap, and ribbon.
I hesitated, but when Trent glanced at his watch, I shoved my bag at the clerk and stomped out of the elevator. Was I a demon, or was I a demon?
I swear, Trent was smiling when he caught up, slipping an arm in mine and slowing me down. Ivy was here somewhere. If they didn’t give her to me, I was going to tear the place apart. “I hope your chess game is better than mine,” I said softly.
“Me too,” he breathed, and I wondered where Jenks was.
“This way, please,” one of the men said, and I stifled a shiver at the two guards following. The walls were bright, and with the artwork from multiple periods and schools on the walls and pedestals, it felt as if we were in a museum. The air stank of vampire. No wonder Ivy had worked so hard to get out of here. Damn, my scar was tingling.
“You okay?”
“Ask me tomorrow,” I said as the escort stopped before a glass-and-wood door and gestured for us to enter. Heart pounding, I went first, thinking it looked like any other corner office apart from the no-window thing. “It’s better than an interrogation room,” I said, then spun when Cormel bustled in right behind us, his motions vampire quick.
“I don’t like it much either,” he said as he moved behind the opulent, but largely bare, desk. “This is my office. Please, sit down. We have time to chat before everyone arrives.”
“You mean Ivy, right?” I said, and he laughed, gesturing at the chairs.
“Sit down, Rachel.”
That made me feel oh so fuzzy and warm, and I eased into the leather chair closest to the door. Trent hesitated, then took the other. “I wasn’t aware that you worked for the I.S.,” Trent said.
Cormel laced his fingers atop his desk, clearly pleased. “I don’t. The office came with Piscary’s title. I do enough business here to warrant keeping it, but not enough to have a secretary. Thank you for saving me the effort to find you. Can I get you anything?”
My eyes narrowed. “Ivy,” I stated, and he smiled. It was the smile that had saved the free world during the Turn, but it fell flat against me.
“Pleasure before business,” he said, chuckling.
Lifting the chair under me, I scooted it forward until my knees were almost touching the desk. Sitting back, I put my ankles up on it. It was meant to bother him, and it did, but instead of pushing back, Cormel leaned forward until I could see he wasn’t breathing. “Would you like something to drink?” he said, the words precise and clear.
I took my feet off his desk and leaned over it, the flat of my arms stretched out until my fists were right under his face and I could watch his eyes dilate to a full, angry black. “Where’s Ivy?”
Trent cleared his throat. “I’d like a black coffee,” he said pleasantly. “I don’t know what Rachel wants. Second-guessing her is a mistake.”
He’d given me a way to back off, and I took it, settling into the leather chair and trying to keep my breathing shallow and avoid taking in so much vampire pheromones. My God, they were thick down here. “Coffee,” I said, and the man eased out of the room, shutting the door behind him. “Cormel, this is stupid. Felix walked into the sun. How much proof do you need?”
“Right to the point,” Cormel said, sighing. “But wrong nevertheless.”
“It will kill you,” I continued, wanting to get out of here. “Don’t ask me why, but I don’t want to see you dead.”
“Dead?” Cormel’s pupils shrank, and I breathed easier. “No, you simply don’t want to see us progress out of the trap we’re in. Felix was not sane. I am.”
“You think you’re sane?” I said, almost laughing. “The longer you’ve been sucking people dry, the harder it is to survive the trauma of your soul. Give me Ivy and I’ll see what I can do for the newly undead, but you having your soul will cause you to suncide. Landon knows it. He’s counting on it. Why are you listening to him?”
Trent dryly cleared his throat, but I fixed my eyes on Cormel, daring him to look away. His lip had curled up to show a little more fang, making me wonder if I should back off.
“Landon is doing exactly what I want,” the vampire said. “We will not perish but be stronger for our souls after we . . . adapt. Can you imagine it?” he said, eyes alight. “The power of the undead with the strength of the living?”
I thought of Nina, swaying the crowd with just that. “It’s a dream, Cormel.”
A flicker of unease crossed him. He knew, and yet he still persisted. Why? Steepling his fingers, he said, “Indications show that with enough time the emotions will fade.”
“Guilt takes forever to fade.”
“We have forever,” he shot back, and agitated, I turned to the man bringing in three cups of coffee. It smelled wonderful, and no one said anything as he gave Cormel his first, then Trent, and finally me. The man practically backed out, and my eyes narrowed at his fear.
“To live forever will elevate us, make us strong,” Cormel said, his attention on the tiny spoon as he sifted what was probably salt into his coffee. I’d be willing to bet it shifted the flavor more to a mug of warm, salty blood.
“Ask the demons how great forever is,” I said, deciding to skip the coffee.
“Yet you’ve given Ivy hope,” Cormel said. “You must believe it’s possible for the undead to survive with their souls if you gave Ivy a magic to capture hers.”
Shit, he’d found the soul bottle. “If you took it from her,” I threatened, wishing I hadn’t pushed my chair up so close. It was Ivy’s, damn it! He had no right.
“I didn’t take her magic,” Cormel said. Expression blank, he sipped his coffee. “You’ve failed to convince me of the danger. I’ll trust Landon a little longer.”
“Then you’re going to die!” I exclaimed, frustrated as he gestured for someone outside the office. “The longer you’re dead, the more wrong things you do to stay alive, and the harder it is to survive the guilt in your soul. It’s only the newly undead that might make it.”
“There is no wrong!” Cormel shouted, suddenly standing. “I’ve done nothing wrong!”
I said nothing, not having even seen him move. Trent, too, was a little disconcerted, and I grimaced, not wanting to have Cormel at my throat but needing to make him understand.
Cormel edged from his desk, a hint of confusion marring his confidence. “They gift me with their blood, their aura, their soul. How can it be wrong?”
“It is,” I said softly. “That’s why you weep when you get your soul back. You can’t have everything you want.”
“Remember that,” Cormel said as the door to the hall opened and Landon was shoved in. He looked disheveled, in the same robes I’d seen him wearing on TV. I figured he was about as happy as we were to be here, but the shimmer of satisfaction in the tilt to his head gave me pause. Slowly I stood, not wanting to be at a disadvantage. Trent remained seated, his fingers steepled and his ankle across one knee. You shouldn’t be here, I thought, worried.
Landon pulled himself straight, seeming official in his purple and green robes and that hat that Newt favored. “Rachel,” he said, giving me a nod. “Trent,” he added sarcastically before turning to Cormel. “I told you it wouldn’t last if they’re alive. Kill them or the surface demons remain in the ever-after.”
My gaze flicked to the two thugs just inside the door and back again. “We didn’t send them back. Your spell fell apart.”
“Rachel tells me you’re lying,” Cormel said, and Landon’s expression blanked. “And I believe the actual wording of our agreement was that I’d remove them from power.” He gestured to Trent. “I sent them fleeing to the West Coast. They returned and I isolated them. They have no power,” he said, smiling
pleasantly. “Bring back our souls. Now.”
“The dewar is split because he lives,” Landon said, but he was sweating. If I could see it, every vampire on the floor could smell it. “I won’t bring your souls back until I have control.”
“Won’t, or can’t?” Cormel sat down, leaving Landon and me standing.
“You’ll not survive this, Landon,” Trent intoned, and Cormel turned to him in speculation. “You’ll die by your own hand. I’ll have no regrets.”
It sounded poetic, and I hid my shiver by moving to stand behind his chair. It was a good eight feet away from the desk, and I breathed easier. I didn’t like his being here. Despite everything he’d said, I’d never forgive myself if he suffered because of me.
“It’s business,” Landon said dismissively and turned to Cormel. “Well?”
The vampire leaned back into his chair, making it creak. “The living are fascinating,” he mused aloud. “You both seem to think you have leverage. You don’t.” He licked his lips to show his teeth. “I don’t trust you, Landon.”
“You didn’t kill them!” Landon shouted, and I shrank back when Cormel stood.
“You are lying!” he thundered, and the guards outside in the hall came in. “I’m not going to kill them. I don’t have to. All you need is control of the dewar, yes?”
Cormel wasn’t going to kill us. Great. Somehow that didn’t thrill me. Trent paled, and I put a hand on his shoulder. The stored energy in his chi tingled through me, and I felt our balances equalize. Neither of us could make a circle, but we had at least one good spell each.
“You will stop lying to me,” the vampire said, motions smooth and controlled as he ghosted out from behind the desk.
Landon backed up, jerking when one of Cormel’s thugs shoved him forward. Cormel closed the gap. “I know you lost control of our souls,” the vampire said, reaching to arrange Landon’s collar. “You didn’t force them back because Rachel and Trent still live. You let them slip away. Blaming them to cover your error is disturbing.”
I barely breathed as Cormel leaned in toward Landon. “If you have control of the dewar, can you bring them back?” Cormel asked. “The truth.”
“Y-yes,” he stammered, and Cormel smiled, giving his face a little pat. “But the dewar won’t side with me while he lives.”
Cormel turned his back on us to retrieve his coffee. “And the demons?” Smiling, still smiling, he leaned against his desk, looking at me over the rim of his coffee cup.
Landon’s attention shifted between Cormel and Trent, clearly nervous. “I can force all of them except Rachel back to the ever-after,” he said. “I can then close the lines so the ever-after will collapse, taking the demons with it.”
He wants to kill the demons, too? I shook my head in disbelief. “You’d end all magic?” I said softly. “What in hell are you afraid of, Landon?”
Trent was the only one still sitting, and it made him look like he was in control—when he clearly wasn’t. Or was he?
Landon sneered, telling me he was afraid. “Don’t be stupid. I wouldn’t end magic forever. With the entire dewar and enclave backing me, we can reinstate the Arizona lines.”
Jaw dropping, I followed that through. He’d hold the entirety of Inderland hostage with the threat of destroying the lines if he didn’t get what he wanted, when he wanted, whenever he wanted. Beside me, Trent made a small noise of appreciation, and I tightened my grip on his shoulder. Okay, it was a great idea, but not for us.
“The lines are dead. You can’t reinstate them,” I said quickly, wondering if Cormel had us down here to affirm or deny Landon’s claim. “Why are you listening? He wants you dead.”
Expression ugly, Landon took a step away from the thugs. “Nothing is impossible.” He turned to Cormel. “And nothing happens until I control the dewar.”
Cold, I gripped the back of Trent’s chair. Cormel’s eyes traveled over all of us, and with a little sigh, he pushed into motion. “We can take care of that right now,” he said as he pulled open a drawer and brought out a folder. “Kalamack, where are your daughters?”
“My daughters?” Trent echoed, and my first fear that Cormel was threatening them vanished. They were with Al. Nothing could harm them.
“With a demonic babysitter, I believe?” Cormel drawled. Landon looked awfully smug all of a sudden, and I tensed.
“As a matter of fact, yes,” Trent said, and I snatched the papers that Cormel was extending. Trent reached up and took them from me before I could read them, but then my jaw clenched as I saw the first few lines.
“Child abuse?” I spat. “Are you kidding?”
Cormel leaned back in his chair. “No. Mr. Kalamack is accused of child abuse for putting the girls in the care of a demon.”
“You can’t do that!” I exclaimed, but by Trent’s pale face, I thought they not only could, they had.
“Criminal neglect and endangerment,” Cormel was saying. “He may as well have dangled them from the top of the I.S. tower. Not a good choice, Morgan. Your idea, wasn’t it?”
No, it had been Trent’s, but I’d thought it was a good one. “They aren’t in any danger! Al isn’t going to hurt them!” Trent let the papers fall, and I scooped them up, hands shaking.
“Kalamack’s actions are being seen as a political stunt to show demons in an uncharacteristic and false light. Of course, we can avoid all this . . . if you return our souls yourself?”
I froze, my stomach knotting. Son of a bitch. Ellasbeth was going to have the girls within the hour.
“This is for both girls.” The scent of spoiled wine pushed out the vampiric pheromones. My pulse pounded as Trent stood and took the papers from me. “Ellasbeth can’t claim Ray,” he said, dropping them on the desk. “She’s not her child.”
Landon edged forward as Cormel spun the paperwork to him. “Lucy was the firstborn, was she not?” he said, peering over his glasses as he sat down and fumbled for a pen. “There should be sufficient dewar support with just the one girl.”
“This isn’t about power!” Trent exclaimed, and Cormel looked up from crossing Ray’s name off the paperwork. “Lucy is my child!”
“Not anymore.” Cormel lightly flipped through the pages and initialized the changes.
Horrified, I stood by the chair. This was my fault. They were doing this because of my association with Trent. He was trying to find a way to live with demons because of me, and it was costing him everything. Damn you, Ellasbeth. Do you even know what you’re doing?
Cormel slid the pages back in the folder and closed it, an ageless hand resting atop it protectively. “Produce Lucy, or you will not leave this room.”
My God, he was going to give Lucy to Landon. The girl was a living symbol of the elven future, and whoever raised her held her power until she was old enough to hold it herself. Scared, I sized up the thugs by the door. I’d had worse odds and fewer assets, but one of them was Trent—and I recognized an odd panic. There’d be no ley line this deep underground. I had only one spell’s worth of power spindled, but when Trent reached up and put a hand on mine, I felt a jolting tingle. Lips pressed, he pushed more energy into me, and shocked, I remembered Trent had a familiar. He had access to a line, and through him, I did, too. Not so helpless then . . .
But my fear for him remained. “You’re holding us on what grounds?”
Cormel looked at the ceiling and pushed back from the desk. “Kalamack for refusing a court order, and you . . . I don’t know, but we’ll come up with something.”
I moved back from the chair, pissed as three of his people approached. “This is why you weep when you get your soul, Cormel. I’m almost ready to force it down your throat.”
A flicker of unease passed over Cormel, but it was gone quickly. “Satisfied?” Cormel asked Landon, handing him the folder.
“Your souls will return at sundown,” Landon said shortly, and Cormel’s smile faded. “We have to wait until the lines are flowing in the proper direction,” he added, then paled a
t Cormel’s sudden snarl. “I will personally fix your soul to your body myself,” he said quickly. “You can’t force the tides, and we must wait until the flow of energy is conducive for the magic required.”
Suspicious, Cormel looked at me, reading the truth of it in my grimace.
“And I need time to sway the dewar,” Landon said with a relieved exhale.
I’d had just about enough. “You mean parade Lucy about like a trophy,” I said as Trent got to his feet, shaking out his coat and stopping the vampires with one hard look. “You haven’t earned your voice, Landon. You’ve not done one thing to prove you’re fit to lead a school outing, much less an entire people.”
“He can’t force the demons into the ever-after,” Trent told Cormel.
“Watch me.” Landon’s face was red as he held his papers like a shield.
“He can’t reinstate the Arizona lines once he destroys the ever-after, either,” Trent continued. “Cormel, you will be known as the man who allowed an elf to kill all magic.”
There were too many people in here, and my back was almost to the wall. My heart pounded. This was easier when I didn’t love anyone.
“The risk is worth it,” Cormel said, motioning to the two guys still standing by the door. Crap on toast, they had guns. “Landon, if it’s not done at sunset, you will die an hour afterward because I will wring the life from you personally. Take your stolen power and go.”
Landon looked frightened as he edged to the door. Damn it, if he left with that folder, Lucy was gone. Frustrated and angry, I paced to Cormel. “He can’t save you!”
The vampire’s eyes were black when they met mine. “And you won’t.” He eyed the short distance between us and waved his men closer. “Take them away.”
Frustrated, energy swirled to my fingertips. I wasn’t going to get Ivy or Nina, and coming here had only lost Lucy.
By the door, Landon hesitated. “You strapped them, didn’t you?” he asked, and I smiled at Cormel. It was wicked and promising pain, but he wasn’t looking at me.
