by Ким Харрисон
Jenks's wings fanned my neck. "What did he say?"
Sighing, I sat down and started fiddling with the sugar packets. "Nothing."
Twenty-four
My feet hurt, and as I walked the last few blocks from the bus stop to my church, I paused to lean against a maple to take my flats off. A car whizzed by going way too fast, and I scowled at it, listening to the breaks squeal as it turned the corner. Jenks yelped in surprise from my shoulder when I bent at the waist to remove my shoes, darting off in a clatter of wings.
"Hey!" he snapped, the pixy dust sifting from him. "How about some warning, witch!"
I glanced up. "Sorry," I said wearily. "You were so quiet I forgot you were there."
His wing noise dulled, and he returned to my shoulder. "That's because I was asleep," he admitted.
My shoes hooked over two fingers, I straightened. The party had broken up early so all good elves could get home for their midnight siesta. Pixies kept to the same clock—sleeping four hours around midnight and four again at noon. No wonder Jenks was tired.
The cracked sidewalk was warm against the soles of my feet, and we made our way in the streetlight-lit darkness toward the cheerful glow of the bulb illuminating the Vampiric Charms sign above the door. In the distance a siren wailed. The full moon wasn't due for a few days, but the streets had been busy, even here in the Hollows.
Not that I'd been listening, but the gossip I caught on the bus was that The Warehouse on Vine had caught fire again. The route home hadn't taken us anywhere near it, but the number of I.S. cruisers I'd seen had been astounding. The few people on the bus had looked afraid, for lack of a better word, yet my thoughts were too full of my own troubles to strike up a conversation, and Jenks, apparently, had been asleep.
My feet were silent on the steps, and I yanked open the door, my gaze darting to the coat hooks in the hopes of seeing something of Ivy's hanging there. Nothing.
Jenks sighed from my shoulder.
"I'm calling her right now," I said, dropping my shoes by the door and swinging my shoulder bag around.
"Rache." The pixy left me to hover where he could see my face. "It's been a full day."
"That's why I'm calling her." The connection went through as I wandered into the sanctuary, flicking on lights as I headed for the kitchen. Guilt whispered at me. She couldn't have found out about Kisten and me, and even then I think she would have yelled at me before she left. I think.
The sound of crickets joined the hum of Jenks's dragonfly-like wings as I thunked on the kitchen light, squinting until my eyes adjusted to the glare. Ivy's missing computer was depressing, and I dropped my bag on the table to try to make it look less empty. My cell phone rang until Ivy's phone told me it was going to voice mail, and I disconnected before I got charged for the call.
I closed the top with a dull snap. Jenks was sitting atop his brine shrimp, feet moving slightly as his wings hung still from worry. "If it's not one of you, it's the other," he said sourly.
"Hey, I'm not the one who left last winter," I said, padding to the fridge for one of Ivy's bottled waters.
"You really want to bring that up?" he snarled, and I shook my head, feeling guilty.
"Maybe she's with Kisten," I said, cracking the plastic top and taking a swig. I wasn't thirsty, but it made me feel better, as if Ivy might come storming in demanding to know what I was doing drinking her water.
Jenks rose into the air, slowly unfolding to stand on the lid of his brine shrimp. "Let me know if you hear something. I'm calling it a night. Jhan is in charge if something comes up. If you need me, let him know."
My eyes widened. He had his kid playing sentry? "Jenks?" I questioned, and he turned from the screen, hovering by the pixy hole.
His shoulders lifted and dropped. "I'm going to spend some time with Matalina," he said, and I worked hard to keep from smiling.
"Okay," I said. "You want tomorrow off?"
He shook his head, then vaulted through the hole in the screen. I stepped to the window, leaning over the sink to watch him trail a green shimmer of dust to the stump in the garden. Then he was gone. I was alone. My eyes drifted to the cake Ivy had made for me, still unfrosted. I'd had put foil on it this afternoon so it wouldn't dry out.
God, this stinks.
Refusing to let this become a pity party, I yanked one of my spell books out from the shelf and headed into the sanctuary with my water and the tub of frosting. I wasn't hungry, but I needed something to do. I'd watch local TV, since the cable wouldn't stretch out here, pretend to do some research, then go to bed early. Jeez, some birthday this had been.
Is it my fault Ivy's gone? I thought as I shuffled into the sanctuary. Damn it, why did I let my emotions make my decisions? No one had forced me to bite Kisten. I could have given him the caps back. But Ivy had no right to be upset. He was my boyfriend! Besides, she had said her kiss was a taste so I could decide what I wanted. Well, I was trying to decide, and Kisten figured into that.
Depressed, I flopped into Ivy's cushy suede chair. Vampire incense puffed up, and I breathed it deeply, looking for solace. Far off, I heard the bang of a transformer go, and I waited for the lights to blink out. They stayed lit, happy for me but sad for the squirrel that had just bit the big one, thanks to a zillion volts of electricity. I opened my spell book and snatched up the remote. It was almost midnight. The news probably had something now about the fire.
The TV brightened, and as the commercials blared and I ate a spoonful of frosting, I called Kisten. Nothing. Pizza Piscary's was next, and I listened to the recorded message of their business hours wondering why no one was answering. They must really be busy.
My head tilted, and I looked at the dark foyer. I could just grab my keys and head over there, but the presence of so many cops on the street had me worried about my suspended license.
There was another bang from outside, closer this time, and the lights flickered.
Two squirrels? I thought, then frowned. It was dark. There wouldn't be any squirrels. Maybe someone was taking potshots at the streetlights again.
Curious, I set the frosting down and went to look out a window. The thumping at the door brought me spinning around, and Ceri blew in.
"Rachel?" she exclaimed, her heart-shaped face worried. "Rachel, thank God," she said, coming forward and taking my hands. "I have to get you out of here."
"What?" I said intelligently, then looked past her when Keasley trooped in, the older black man's steps painfully quick despite his arthritis. "Ceri, what's the matter?"
Keasley bobbed his head at me, then locked and barred the door.
"Hey!" I exclaimed. "Ivy isn't in yet."
"She's not coming," the old witch said, limping forward. "Do you have a sleeping bag?"
I stared at him. "No. I lost it in the great salt-dip of '06." There was a lot I had lost during my I.S. death threat, and replacing my sleeping bag was low on the list. "And how do you know Ivy's not coming in?" I added.
Ignoring that, the old man headed down the hall and into my room.
"Hey!" I said again, then turned to Ceri when she gripped my arm. "What's the matter?"
Ceri pointed at the TV, now a mishmash of noise and confusion. "He's out," she said, white-faced. "Al is walking this side of the lines. Free and under no one's compulsion—whether the sun is up or not."
Immediately my shoulders eased. "God, I'm sorry, Ceri. I meant to tell you. You really need to get a phone. I know. Al was at Trent's rehearsal and dinner."
The elf's eyes widened. "It's true?" she exclaimed, and I cringed.
"I was going to tell you as soon as I got home, but I forgot," I pleaded, wondering how she'd found out already. "But it's okay. He's not after anyone but me. He can do the sun thing because he made a deal with Lee to possess his body until Lee kills me. And that's not going to happen until he's done with me." I couldn't tell her that the deal she'd made with Al was why he wanted me this time. It would prey on her.
Ceri hesitated. "Doesn't L
ee killing you come under the 'him or his agents' clause?"
My stomach clenched, and I glanced at Keasley at the top of the hallway, waiting for us with my summer comforter in his arms. "Al's going to free Lee before he kills me, and since Lee has reason enough to want me dead, the agent clause won't come into effect."
Keasley dropped my pillow and comforter just inside the sanctuary before shuffling back down the hallway. Ceri took my arm and started to follow him. "We can discuss the intricacies of demon law later. You have to get to hallowed ground."
Exasperated, I pulled from Ceri's grip. "I'm fine!" I protested. "If Al was going to do anything, he would have done it already. He's not going to kill me. At least not right away."
I looked at the TV, mystified as to why everyone was freaking out. Then I looked closer. They weren't in front of The Warehouse, they were in front of a grocery store. Terrified people in vans and station wagons were looting the place. The announcer seemed scared as she told people not to panic, that the situation was under control. Uh-huh. It sure looked under control.
There was a boom of sound and a flash of light, and the pretty reporter swore, falling into a crouch. The camera panned to the gas station across the street. Another flash of light and I realized what had happened. A ley line witch had just blasted someone trying to cut in front of him at the gas station. The faint purple haze was still hanging in the air.
"Are you getting this?" the woman announcer cried out, and my stomach felt queasy when the picture dipped. "The city is going crazy!" she shouted, eyes wide. "The I.S. has declared a state of martial law, and all residents are told to remain inside. Buses will stop at midnight, and anyone on the street will be incarcerated."
"Jake!" she shouted, jumping when a loud bang shook her. "Are you getting this?!"
Jake was indeed getting it, and I stared at people frantically filling their gas tanks. I gasped when a frustrated driver rammed the car ahead of his to shove it forward. A fight started, and my mouth fell open when a ball of green-tinted ever-after blasted into the gas pump. It exploded in a shower of orange and red. The woman screamed, and the camera fell. My windows rattled, and I turned to the dark street. Damn, that had been close. What in hell was going on? So Al was walking around. I was the only one he wanted.
"I don't get it," I said, gesturing. "He can only do what Lee can. He's not any more dangerous than your average deranged, masochistic, black ley line witch." I hesitated, taking in the fear coming through the TV. "Okay," I amended. "Maybe a little screaming is in order, but he can be brought down."
"Someone tried." Ceri tugged at me, but I didn't budge, fixated on the chaos. "He caused trouble at a dance establishment tonight, and when the bouncers tried to get him out, he killed them. Incinerated them right where they stood and set the place to flame. Then he banished the six witches the I.S. sent to catch him into the ever-after. No one can stop him, Rachel, and he's not under anyone's control. People are scared. They want him gone."
"He incinerated them?" I said, my horror mixing with confusion. All right, maybe he is more powerful than I thought. "I'm the one he wants. Why is he doing this?"
She turned from the TV, her eyes wide, and tried to get me to move. "What did he ask of you?" she asked, and I licked my lips.
I hesitated, then said, "To testify that you promised to not teach anyone how to spindle line energy. I told him no, and if he goes back without me, they're going to put him in jail."
Ceri's eyes closed, her jaw clenching as she struggled to keep her fear and despair from showing. "I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice shaking. "He's trying to change your mind. I've seen him do this before. You and Piscary are the only two people who have demonstrated the ability to control him, and because you didn't circle him tonight, everyone will think he's doing this with your blessing. If you don't do what Al wants, he's going to turn the city against you."
"What!" I yelped as Keasley appeared in the hallway with three bottles of water and the dusty radio I had under the cupboards for when the power went out.
"Bring your phone," he said shortly. "Do you have extra batteries?"
I couldn't think. Seeing my confusion, he held up a twisted brown hand and went to look for himself. Ceri was tugging on me, and I let her drag me to the top of the hallway.
"This is not my problem," I said, starting to panic. "If I testify to get Al out of Cincy, then I'm a demon practitioner and he kills me that much sooner. And if I don't help him, then I'm responsible for everyone he hurts or sends to the ever-after?"
She picked up my comforter and, meeting my eyes, nodded.
"Swell." I couldn't win. I could not win for losing. Damn it, it wasn't fair!
"But that's not the worst of it," Ceri said, fear showing on her heart-shaped face. "It's all over the news that you had dinner with Al. You didn't take control of him, so they let Piscary out of jail to do it. He's the only other person in Cincy who can."
I stood for three seconds, taking that in. Piscary is out? Oh… shit.
"Jenks!" I shouted, heading into the hall. "Jenks! Is the backyard clear?" I had to get out of here. It was dark. The church was unsanctified. My security had become a trap.
Ceri followed me into the kitchen. She looked miserable at my fear, but I didn't care.
"Jenks!" I shouted again, and he buzzed in, his green robe furling.
"What the hell do you want?" he snarled. "Can't you spend one freaking night alone? "
I blinked, taken aback. "Cincinnati is panicking because Al is walking the streets with no one holding his leash," I said. "Six witches tried to circle him, and he sent them into the ever-after. Everyone's afraid he's here to harvest familiars, and because I didn't catch him, tonight, they let Piscary out to get control of him. Is the backyard clear? I'm going to be sleeping in the graveyard tonight." And tomorrow, and the day after. Hell, maybe I ought to put up a little cottage.
Jenks gaped at me, face pale. His mouth moved, and he said softly, "I'll check."
And he was gone.
"Good evening, Jenks," Ceri said to no one.
The back screen door slammed shut, and Keasley shuffled in. "Let's go."
I put a hand to my stomach. "I have to call my mother."
"Do it from the graveyard." Ceri took my elbow and led me to the backdoor. Keasley's bent shadow went before us, and I let them drag me out onto the wooden landing and into the night.
The back-porch light was on, and in its uncertain flicker I fumbled for my phone. Piscary's number glowed as the last line called, and in a wash of fear I realized where Ivy was. She hadn't heard about Kisten and me. Piscary had called her to him. This was a setup. Al and Piscary were working together as they had before. Piscary had called, and she had gone to prepare for him—like the scion she was.
"Oh, God," I whispered, my knees going weak as my bare feet found the cold grass. Ivy was with Piscary. Right now.
"Ivy!" I shouted, spinning to head back to the kitchen and my car keys.
"Rachel, no!" Keasley called. He reached for me, falling into a fit of coughing. I leapt to the stairs, jerking back when Ceri took my shoulder.
"She's a vampire," the elf said, eyes snapping in the dim light. "It's a trap. A lure. Al and Piscary are working together. You know it's a trap!"
"She's my friend!" I protested.
"Get into the graveyard," she demanded, pointing as if I were a dog. "We'll deal with this in an orderly fashion."
"Orderly fashion!" I shot at her. "You know what that monster can do to her? Who do you think you are!" I shouted, pushing her hand off me.
Ceri fell back a step. Then her jaw clenched, and I felt her tap a line.
I stiffened. She's going to spell me? "Don't you dare!" I exclaimed, shoving her like we were two girls on the playground fighting over a piece of chalk.
Ceri gasped, falling down on her butt, her eyes wide in shock as she looked up at me with her hair all over the place. My face went red in embarrassment. "I'm sorry, Ceri," I said. "She's my friend, an
d Piscary will screw her up. I don't care if it's a trap; she needs me."
The elf gaped at me, all her skills and magic forgotten in her confusion and affront that I had shoved her down. "Keasley," I said, spinning to find him. "I'll be back—"
My words cut off as I saw him with my cherry red splat gun in his hands. Adrenaline jerked through me, and I froze. "I can't let you knock me down," he said, the gun's alignment unwavering from my chest.
"I might break something," he said, then pulled the trigger, as smooth and unhurried as a waltz.
I tensed to run, but the puff of the escaping air shocked me. "Ow!" I yelped as the stinging sensation hit me square in the chest, and I looked down at the slivers of red plastic.
"Damn it, Keasley," I said, then collapsed, out before my head hit the soft garden soil.
Twenty-five
"Is it supposed to take this long?" came Jenks's voice, buzzing as if from behind my eyes. My shoulder hurt, and I shifted my arm, bringing my hand up to touch it. I was soaking wet, and surprise brought me awake.
Taking a lungful of air, I sat up, my eyes flashing open.
"Ho! There she is," Keasley said, worry in his brown eyes as he backed up and straightened. His leathery face was creased with wrinkles, and he looked cold in his faded cloth coat. The rising sun gave him a hazy glow, and Jenks hovered beside him. Both of them were watching me with concern as I slumped against a tombstone. We were surrounded by pixies, and their giggles sounded like wind chimes.
"You spelled me!" I shouted, and Jenks's kids scattered with squeals. I looked down, realizing it was salt water dripping from my hair, my nose, my fingers, and pooling in my underwear. I'm a freaking mess.
Keasley's age-worn expression eased. "I saved your life." Dropping the plastic five-gallon bucket onto the grass, he extended a hand to help me up.
Avoiding it, I lurched to my feet before the water could seep farther. "Damn it, Keasley," I swore, shaking my dripping hands and disgusted with myself. "Thanks a helluva lot."
