The Witch With No Name

by Kim Harrison

  I sat back, stunned. I had no idea that the demons believed in anything after death, but Al seemed genuinely appalled that Landon would destroy the vampires’ souls.

  Lips curling, Al sneered at Trent. “Any wonder we tried to kill you foul things?”

  “Hey, that’s enough,” I said as Jenks rose up in agitation. “Trent is on our side.”

  The door chimes jingled and Jenks darted to the door as David came in with two women, the first professionally dressed and having a sour expression, the second shorter, dressed in softer, flowing fabric that was no less professional. Both women moved with a grace born of responsibility, and I smiled when I recognized Vivian, the same woman from the witch coven who’d traveled with Trent and me to the witch conference last summer. “Vivian!” I called, and she smiled, touching David’s shoulder as she pointed to us, then to the order window.

  “Give me a sec,” she called out. “Vampires can’t make coffee to save their souls.”

  Jenks snickered. “Dr. Anders,” he added, and I jerked to a halt halfway to a stand. Crap, the woman was right beside me.

  My old ley line instructor pulled her attention from the order line, her narrow face taking in Jenks hovering protectively close. “It’s professor now,” she said to me as she took Trent’s hand as he extended it over the table. “Kalamack,” she said, adding, “I’ll be right back. Rachel, good to see you looking so well.”

  Somehow it sounded sarcastic. “I’ll, ah, get you a chair,” I said, shifting to get out from beside her, grabbing one and setting it right next to Al and across from me. Jeez, the woman hadn’t changed at all. Apart from the professor thing. No wonder Trent was so bummed about missing the meeting. This was big stuff and he’d been sidelined.

  Heels clacking, Professor Anders got in line behind Vivian. Trent and David were gathering more chairs, and Al slowly stood. “Excuse me,” he said softly, his eyes on Vivian.

  “Leave her alone,” I warned him, remembering the demon’s liking for high-magic users. Al tugged his suit straight, smiling wickedly as he came up behind the two women. I took a breath to protest, distracted when David swung a chair around between mine and Al’s and plunked himself down.

  “Rachel,” he said, squinting up at me with a decidedly attractive alpha-wolf stubble and confidence. “You’re up early. How you doing?”

  I sat back down, enjoying the scent of good earth and spicy pine that came from him. I could see the power of the focus shimmering in the back of his eyes, and I figured he was channeling the demon curse strongly today, seeing that he was acting as a mouthpiece for Weres everywhere. “Better than I thought I might,” I said, glancing out the front window. “Is someone getting you a drink?”

  “Vivian.” He twisted awkwardly to retrieve his phone from a back pocket. “I hate meetings,” he said as he set it on the table.

  I totally understood, and I resettled myself. “Hey, thanks again for helping get Ivy and Nina out of the square yesterday,” I said, and Jenks snickered.

  “How is your jaw?” Ivy asked, pulling my attention from Vivian’s giving Al the brush-off. His jaw? Why? What had happened?

  Expression rueful, David felt his jaw, his eyes flicking to Ivy with more than a little respect. “Fine, thanks,” he grumbled, making Trent smile. “Cormel is still trying to figure out how you two escaped.”

  Trent leaned forward over the table, eyes dancing. “Her magic carpet, of course.”

  “I am not a rug,” Al said, and Trent jumped, unaware that the demon had been right behind him. Scowling, Al sat, pushing his chair so far back that he almost wasn’t at the table.

  Vivian and Professor Anders slowly made their way over, Vivian making a beeline for the free chair at the other end of the table to force Anders to take the chair between Trent and Al. Al smiled lasciviously at the older, uptight woman, surprise coloring his expression when the woman did nothing but give him a dry look and settle squarely in the space.

  “Ah, David,” I said to distract the demon. “Al brought up an interesting point; if Landon manages to destroy the undead souls, then it might negatively impact the undead, as their souls and consciousnesses might be forever divided. Is Cormel still buying into Landon’s lies, or is he just stringing Landon along hoping I’ll come bail him out when it doesn’t work?”

  David took the cup of straight black coffee that Vivian pushed to him. “That would’ve been good to bring up. Why didn’t you?”

  He was looking at Al, and from his distant inclusion at the end of the table, Al sipped his drink. “I’m not going to bandy about a questionable demon belief before six factions of Inderland society. And besides, I wasn’t involved in the theoretical ramifications of the curse in question. I don’t know how true it is.”

  Professor Anders’s thin lips pressed into a line. “Demon?” she said in disbelief. “Why weren’t you introduced as such?”

  Smiling wickedly, Al inclined his head. “So as not to panic the leprechaun, my dear.”

  “Who was?” I asked, and then had to repeat the entire thing since no on was listening, captured by the emotions crossing through the tall woman. “Who was involved in the theoretical studies?”

  Al pulled his gaze from Professor Anders. “Newt. Don’t ask her. She doesn’t remember.”

  Professor Anders leaned distrustfully toward Al. “You don’t smell like a demon.”

  “He’s a demon,” Vivian said. “Why do you think I’m sitting way over here?”

  Lips parted, Professor Anders flushed, her gaze alternating between Al and me. “You’re her instructor,” she almost breathed. “The one who taught her the curse to make a human a familiar.”

  Al grinned, taking her limp hand up and kissing the top of it. “I am. Would you like to know it?”

  Oh God. He was doing it again. “He used to be,” I said loudly, leaning across the table to pull Professor Anders’s hand from Al and making the woman start. “He disowned me recently for dabbling in elven magic.”

  “Dabbling?” Al growled. “You’re covered in it.”

  Professor Anders’s eyes widened as she pulled up her second sight. “Holy seraph spit,” she said, blinking fast. “Is that safe?”

  David sat up, gaze flicking from Trent’s proudly defiant expression and Al’s disgusted one. “What? What’s wrong with Rachel?”

  Vivian’s whistle made me flush. “Ah, that can’t be healthy,” the woman said, and Jenks went to sit on David’s shoulder and fill him in.

  “Can we get back to the topic, please?” I said, flushing.

  “You look sparkly, Rache,” Jenks said, wings clattering. “You must have gotten some last night, eh? Matalina used to glow for hours after we—”

  “Shut up!” I exclaimed, and even Mark, behind the counter, chuckled.

  “Fascinating,” Professor Anders said, making me jerk back when she tried to touch my aura, apparently glowing from the mystics. “You practice elf magic, too? This is what happens without formal instruction. Why don’t elves glow?”

  Jenks rose up, clearly enjoying being the center of attention. “Because elves don’t have bits of the Goddess bonded to them like Rachel does.”

  I scrunched down when the narrow-faced woman pinned me under her stare. “How does this impact your ability to do magic? Can you tap a line?”

  The rest of the table was beginning to stir uncomfortably, and I winced.

  “I’m sorry, Professor,” Trent said, interrupting. “I’m more than happy to take you and Rachel out to lunch to discuss this in further detail, but we need to come up with a course of action and I still don’t know what was decided.”

  I touched his foot with mine in thanks, but I thought it was his desire to get on with this more than anything else. It had been awful watching him fidget this morning, excluded from what was once his domain. I think he missed this more than the money or the notoriety.

  Jenks dipped a cup of coffee out of my own cup. “Yeah, we have to save the world first before you can work on your next
paper—Professor.”

  “Okay.” Trent scooted his chair up, hand touching his breast pocket as if looking for a pen. “Landon is using the situation to try and kill the vampires through their lack of a soul. His method will further remove the source of magic so as to eliminate the threat of demons and witches—all to ensure elf survival. I simply fail to understand how Cormel can still believe Landon has his best interests in mind.”

  David pulled himself straight, his smile at my expense gone. “I think everyone is more scared of a world without master vampires than one without magic.”

  Clearly used to running meetings, Vivian began taking notes. “With the combined support of the coven and the enclave, the dewar can reinstate the Arizona lines with the energy from the shrinking ever-after.”

  Al lolled his head to the ceiling. “Lie . . . ,” he drawled, and Vivian bristled.

  “It is not.”

  Al’s head dropped, and he found her eyes. “You wish.”

  “I agree,” Professor Anders said, the sureness in her voice garnered from decades of arguing with know-it-all peers. “The Arizona lines are dead. You can’t reinstate them. Once gone, they’re gone. It’s impossible to reverse a physical reaction like this; therefore, you can’t reinstate lines. I don’t care how big a collective, dewar, enclave, coven, or energy source you have.”

  Al’s attention slowly slid to her, taking in her stark lines, her pigheaded confidence, and her utter refusal to be afraid of him. My eyes narrowed as he stuck a finger into her aura.

  “It would be far safer to find a way to shove the undead souls back into the ever-after,” the woman finished, shooting a withering look at Al.

  “The ever-after is a hell,” Ivy spoke up, her voice ragged almost.

  “It wasn’t when we made it,” Al grumbled.

  Professor Anders laced her hands before her as if there was nothing more to be said. “I’m sorry, Ms. Tamwood, but your kin is cursed. If it’s a choice between them or us living in hell, I pick them.”

  Jenks’s wings clattered as Ivy’s eyes slowly blossomed into black. “What did my mother do to deserve to be cursed?” she said. “What did I do? How many generations need to suffer for one man frightened of death!”

  Al shrugged, nonchalantly signaling Mark to make him another coffee. “You could always end the curse by letting them die. It’s what they want to do, apparently.”

  Jenks’s wings drooped. “And the world goes with them.”

  “So what do we do?” I said, keeping a tight watch on Ivy. “We can’t allow an end to the ever-after, even to prevent the undead souls from killing their, ah, own. I can’t live in a world with no magic.”

  David tapped the table with a thick knuckle. His hands were looking rougher these days, and I wondered if he was embracing his wilder side more. “Yes, I don’t get that part. Why would Landon want an end to magic?”

  Wincing, Trent rubbed his forehead. “Because elven magic isn’t entirely dependent upon ley lines. We have an open forum through prayer and might be the only major magic users left if the lines go.”

  Might. He said might. As in demons might be able to use elf magic as well? Or might as in elves might not have magic either? The distinction was important.

  “What about Weres?” David asked, understandably concerned.

  “I think you’ll be fine,” Trent said, but David didn’t look convinced. “Weres and leprechauns also use the Goddess’s energy to shift and perform magic. I’d expect a slight reduction, but still functioning.”

  Not pleased, David slumped back. “It’s hard enough to shift already.”

  “What about pixies?” Jenks asked.

  “I think you’ll be okay,” I said, but worry that he wouldn’t made the coffee sit ill in me. Landon wouldn’t care if the pixies died out in his bid for elven superiority. Hadn’t he learned anything from the history texts?

  “There’s always the chance that if he can’t reinvoke the Arizona lines—”

  “He can’t,” Professor Anders interrupted.

  “. . . that the Goddess will also lose her access to reality.” Trent’s lips pressed together in thought. “She won’t be happy about that,” he said, and Professor Anders drummed her fingers, clearly not believing in the Goddess at all.

  Vivian set her pen down with a sharp snap. “I was going to advise the coven to support Landon, but this changes things.”

  “You believe in the Goddess?” Professor Anders scoffed, and Trent bristled.

  Vivian simply smiled. “No. I was referring to the elves’ ability to draw on a separate band of energy not collected in a ley line to perform their magic, one that might still be available if the lines were dead. Calling it a deity is no skin off my nose, and I don’t want any religious entity holding the rest of Inderland hostage. Once the lines end, everyone will panic. They’ll give the dewar anything and everything to reinstate them.”

  “Eat that, Ms. Professor,” Jenks said, darting to make the woman wave a hand at him.

  Trent seemed mollified, but I knew it was only recently that he’d begun believing in the Goddess himself. “I know nothing for certain,” he said, “but Landon wouldn’t risk losing the lines if he wasn’t confident that he’d be able to continue to perform magic.”

  “A truer word has not been spoken,” Al said, reaching over his shoulder to take the new cup Mark was handing him.

  “Look,” I said, and Al choked on his coffee.

  “Oh God. She’s got a list,” the demon gasped, still coughing, and Jenks grinned, cup raised in a salute.

  “We can’t allow the undead masters to die!” I said, undeterred. “It was crazy last spring. Vivian, the news you got on the West Coast was sugarcoated. Cincinnati almost collapsed under mob rule. All services were cut. People went hungry because they were afraid to go outside, and for good reason. They’re still trying to repair the damage, and I’m not talking about just the buildings.”

  Nodding, David ruefully rubbed his wrist, broken when he’d tried to stop Nina from crashing the van she was driving into a train.

  “Rachel,” Professor Anders said, making me jump. “Can the demons do anything? Perhaps they have a charm to banish the undead souls again. Permanently.”

  I twirled my almost full cup of coffee around. “Don’t ask me. Ask the demon.”

  The woman leaned in across the table, reminding me of why I didn’t like her. “Apparently, I am,” she said, and I gave her a fake smile.

  Al could hardly stand being ignored by her, and with a loud harrumph, he broke the woman’s icy gaze on me. “No. And whereas ending the ever-after would forever eliminate the possibility of us being trapped there again, the risk is too great that we might find our own existence ending with it. The demons vote no. We are going to do nothing.”

  “Big surprise,” I grumped, still watching my cup go around and around.

  “Doing nothing is a decision,” Al said tightly. “The old undead will die. The new undead will replace them, perhaps with souls, perhaps not. I can’t wait to find out.”

  “Sadist,” Ivy snarled, and Jenks rose up, concerned that she might lose it. It’s hard enough watching your mother slowly become insane, but to sit at a table with someone who’d been around when the original curse had been woven was harder.

  “Okay, okay,” I soothed, and Jenks quietly flew over to whisper calming things into Ivy’s ear. “No one is going to advocate letting this run its course,” I said, watching Ivy. “Except the demons, who are a small but powerful and likely uncooperative faction.”

  Al inclined his head graciously, and Professor Anders sniffed at him.

  “So where do we stand?” Trent looked at Vivian’s notes in envy as she collected them together and tapped the ends on the table.

  “I have yet to make my report to the coven,” the woman said resolutely. “I’ll give a vote of no confidence in Landon’s plan, but they’re scared.” Her attention shifted to Al. “Scared of demons in reality, scared of vampires out of cont
rol, scared that humans will rise up against all of us when the vampires lose it again. I can almost guarantee they will vote to reinstate the Arizona lines and destroy the undead souls to save what they can of society.”

  “That is not fair!” Ivy exclaimed, and David nodded his agreement. I could see him already going over his resources, the worry pinching his brow.

  Al, too, was glowering, but it was Professor Anders who said, “The academic society will not go along with this. The lines cannot be reinstated. Don’t expect any help from us.”

  Vivian smiled cattily. “We never do.”

  The tension had risen, and I suddenly realized that Mark had quietly been getting people out the door over the last five minutes. Smart man.

  “David?” Trent asked. “What can we expect from the streets?”

  David started from his thoughts. “Ah, I’m not really a representative. I was there because they couldn’t find anyone else on short notice.”

  The reality was that the Weres didn’t have an overseeing board of individuals that governed the rest of their species, but if there was one, David was it, given the focus, and I touched his hand and motioned for him to be out with it.

  “Um, I’ll talk to the packs I can reach,” he said, “but I can tell you right now, we’d rather have the vampires freak out as they reorganize under fewer masters than risk not being able to shift. We’ve hidden before, we can do it again.” He glanced at Ivy. “I’m sorry.”

  But no one was sorry for Al, and he was under the same risk of extermination if the lines were destroyed.

  Professor Anders let her clasped hands hit the table, clearly miffed. “The vampires have been scared into following a voice promising salvation. If we give them an alternative, I think they’ll take it. I say our focus should be on finding a way to capture and fix individual undead souls before they have a chance to rejoin their original bodies. If nothing else, it might calm the vampires enough to realize Landon is playing them for fools. They don’t want a world without magic any more than we do. I would like to head that up if I may.”