by Kim Harrison
Heart pounding, I stared where he had been. “Damn it back to the Turn!” I shouted. Frustrated, I spun to the church, but there was nothing to help me there. The lights were bright, spilling out over the silent snow. Snatching up my bag and scrying mirror, I stomped to the back door, grabbing the cookies at the last moment. Al was going to be busy with Pierce for a while, but until I settled this, everyone with me was a potential target.
This was so not what I needed.
Seventeen
Ignore me, huh?” I muttered, trying for anger, not fear, as I dropped my scrying mirror and cookies on the counter, then kicked my overnight bag under the table, out of the way. The canvas sack scraped across a thin layer of salt, leaving a smear of muddy snow, and I turned to the cupboards. Salt. I didn’t know how to jump a line, but I was going to use my scrying mirror to connect to Al, and I wanted to be in a circle in case he jumped to me first. Either way, we were going to get together.
From atop the fridge, Bis shifted his wings nervously. I hadn’t even seen him come in with me. The sensitive kid knew I was scared, but if Al wouldn’t come to me, I’d go to him. He had thrown down the gauntlet, taunting me with my inexperience, telling me I was helpless. I’d been relying on him for three months, grown complacent. I had a good idea now of how to travel the lines. I couldn’t let him get away with this or he’d be walking all over me for the rest of my life. He’d crossed the line, and it was up to me to make him back up.
A whisper of presence touched my awareness, and I jerked, turning to see Ivy in the hall, hand on the archway and wonder in her eyes. “I thought you were leaving. You’re still here?”
“He took Pierce,” I said bitterly, and her lips parted. “Snatched him right out of the line. Damn it, I didn’t know that was possible.”
Her eyes flicked to the crushed cookies and back. “Pierce was in the ley line?” she asked, going to the fridge and coming out with the orange juice. “You saw him? As a ghost?”
I nodded, scanning the kitchen for my chalk. “He was solid. Al took him. I am so pissed.”
The clatter of dragonfly wings grew obvious, and Jenks darted in, following three of his kids in a merry chase. He saw me, and jerked to a stop as the youngsters hid behind Bis on top of the fridge, giggling. “Rache!” he cried, clearly surprised. “What are you doing back?”
“I never left,” I said sourly. “Where’s my magnetic chalk?” I pulled open a drawer and shuffled around. A salt circle was out. I had melted snow all over the floor. Salt, good. Saltwater, bad. “I have to go talk to Al,” I finished.
The pixy’s gaze dropped to the scrying mirror. “Go? Go where?”
I slammed the drawer shut, and Bis jumped. “The ever-after.”
Eyes wide, Ivy turned from pouring her juice. Jenks’s wings clattered, and he flew close enough to send the scent of ozone over me. “Whoa, whoa, whoa!” he exclaimed. “What, by Tink’s little red shoes, are you talking about? You don’t know how to jump the lines.”
Peeved, I took off my coat and threw it onto my chair. “Al took Pierce. I was talking to him, and he took him. Al won’t listen to me, so I’m going to go talk to him. End of story.”
“End of story is right! Have you been sniffing fairy farts?” Jenks yelled as Matalina flew in, gathering the wide-eyed kids and Bis and ushering them out in a swirl of silk and leathery wings. “You’re going to risk your life for this guy? Let him go, Rache! You can’t rescue everyone! Ivy, tell her she’s going to get herself killed!”
I slammed another drawer shut and pulled open the next. “I’m not doing this to rescue Pierce,” I said as I shifted through my silverware and blessed candles. “I’m doing this because Al is a jerk. He used the excuse of picking me up to snatch someone. If I don’t make him toe the line, then he will walk all over me. And where in hell is my magnetic chalk!”
Shocked, Jenks flew backward a few feet. Ivy pushed herself into motion, and, after pulling open the junk drawer, she placed a stick of magnetic chalk in my hand and retreated. Her fingers gripping her orange juice were white from pressure.
My anger abruptly fizzled as I watched her return to her corner of the kitchen. Her pace was slow and sultry, and her eyes were almost all black. I knew my being upset was hard on her instincts, and I exhaled, trying to calm myself. I wanted her here. I could talk to Al alone in the garden safely, but this had the potential to be dangerous—and I’d do it with them around.
“Why don’t you just call Dali and complain?” Jenks asked.
A flash of worry flared and was gone. “I could,” I said as I bent double to trace a thick layer of shiny chalk just inside the etched line on the kitchen floor. “But then I’d be whining to someone else to fix my problem. Al still wouldn’t take me seriously and I’d owe Dali a favor. If I don’t force Al to treat me with respect, then I’ll never get it. He’s been carting my ass back and forth for weeks. I can figure this out.” My hands were shaking as I set the chalk on the counter beside the scrying mirror. How am I going to do this?
Jenks’s wings blurred to nothing, but he didn’t move from the counter. Worried, I leaned against the sink and took my boots off. No one said a word as I kicked one, then the other boot under the table to slide to a stop beside my packed bag. The gritty salt was obvious through my socks, and I shivered at the feel of the linoleum. If I could figure this out, I would be free. And when I showed up in Al’s kitchen, he’d have to deal with me. I should be thanking him for making me do this.
If I could do this. Taking a breath, I stepped inside the circle.
Jenks rose up, red sparkles shifting from him. “Ivy, tell her this is a bad idea.”
Untouched orange juice beside her, Ivy shook her head. “If she could do this, she’d be safer. She wouldn’t have to rely on us as much, Jenks. I say let her try.”
The pixy made a burst of noise, and his kids, clustered at the door, vanished.
A quiver went through me, and I nervously pulled my scrying mirror close and set my hand in the cave of the pentagram. Instantly my fingers went cold, the icy chill rising from the red-tinted glass to nearly cramp them. “I can do this,” I said, making myself believe. “You said the lines are displaced time. I’ve seen Al do it a hundred times. QED.” Think happy thoughts. Al’s kitchen. The smell of ozone. The peace. Mr. Fish.
Jenks shifted to sift a red dust onto my calling circle. If he stayed where he was, he’d be in the circle with me. “Jenks, go sit with Ivy.”
He shook his head, crossing his arms over his chest. “No. Your aura isn’t thick enough. You might kill yourself. Wait until your aura is better.”
I blew his dust from the glass and pressed my hand more firmly to it. “I don’t have the time. I have to settle this now or he will be walking all over me for the rest of my life. Get back.” My knees were shaking, and I was glad the counter was between Ivy and myself.
“No. I’m not letting you do this. Ivy, tell her this is a bad idea!”
“Get out of the circle, Jenks,” I said tightly. “What if Al decides he wants a pixy, huh? Or someone he knows develops a taste for vampires? What’s to stop him from popping over during dinner and just taking you or one of your kids! I thought he had some scruples about this, but I was wrong. And by God I’m going to make him treat me with some respect. The only reason Al hasn’t done this before is because he hasn’t seen anyone with me worth his while. But now he’s broke! He’s going to start snatching. Get out of my circle!”
Jenks made a noise of frustration, and in a burst of dust that lit up the kitchen, he left. From the sanctuary came a brief uproar of pixy shouting, then nothing.
My blood pressure dropped, and Ivy opened her eyes as I looked at her. They were black with fear. “How long do you want me to wait before I have Keasley summon you back?”
I looked at the window, then the clock. “Right before sunrise.” My head hurt, and I forced my jaw to unclench. This was going to be the most difficult thing I’d ever done. And I didn’t even know if I could do
it. I looked at the clock above the sink, and with a slow exhale of breath, I tapped the line out back.
I shuddered as it spilled into me with that new, raw coldness of jagged metal scraping back and forth along my nerves. The sensation seemed worse than before, the nauseating irregularity making me sick.
Jenks’s wings hummed as he came back in, hovering beside Ivy with black sparkles drifting from him. My circle wasn’t set yet, but he stayed with Ivy. I blinked and shuddered, waiting for my equilibrium to return. “Dizzy,” I said, remembering the sensation. “But I’m okay.” I can do this. How hard can it be? Tom can do it.
“It’s your thin aura,” the pixy said. “Rache. Please.”
Jaw clenched and vertigo rising, I shook my head, becoming even dizzier. I made myself stand straighter, and when Ivy nodded at me, I awkwardly pulled the sock off my right foot and put my big toe on the smooth tang of the magnetic chalk.
Rhombus, I thought firmly. The trigger word would spell the circle in an eyeblink.
Pain sliced through me. I jerked my hand from the mirror, doubling over as the energy from the line roared in, unfiltered and without the cushion of my aura. “Oh God…,” I moaned, then fell to the cold linoleum when a new wave hit me. It hurt. Holding the circle hurt, and hurt bad, the entire, dizzying, sharp pulses smacking into me with the force of a Mack truck. You could survive being hit by a Mack truck. In fact, I had. But not without the cushion of an air bag and an inertia charm. My aura had been that cushion. Now it was so thin as to be useless.
“Ivy!” Jenks was shouting as my cheek ground into the salt-gritty linoleum when another spasm hit me. “Do something! I can’t get to her!”
I didn’t let go of the line—I shoved it out of me. A silent wave of force exploded from my chi, and I gasped in relief as the pain vanished. The electricity went out, and an unexpected snap of power echoed through the church.
“Down!” Jenks shouted, and a sharp pop hurt my ears.
“Shit,” Ivy hissed, and my cheek scraped the salty floor when I blearily looked up at her quick steps into the pantry behind me. My attention, though, never left the fridge. It was on fire, the ghastly gold-and-black glow of my magic lighting the powerless kitchen as the door swung open, hanging from one bolt. I broke our fridge!
“Jenks?” I whispered, remembering the force of the line I’d shoved out of me. I think I just blew every fuse in the church.
I heard the hum of pixy wings over me as Ivy put the magically induced fire out with the fire extinguisher. Behind me, I could hear the pixies, but I closed my eyes, content to lie on the floor in a fetal position as the lights flickered back on. The choking hiss of the extinguisher ceased, and all that was left was my ragged breathing. No one moved.
“Damn it, Ivy, do something,” Jenks said, the draft from his wings hurting my skin. “Pick her up. I can’t help her. I’m too damned small.”
At the edge of my awareness, Ivy’s boots ground the salt in agitation. “I can’t,” she whispered. “Look at me, Jenks. I can’t touch her.”
I took another breath, grateful the pain was gone. Sitting up, I wrapped my arms around my shins and dropped my head to my knees, shaking from the lingering memory of the pain and shock. Damn it, I broke our fridge.
No wonder Al had been so confident. He had said I was helpless, and he was right. And as I sat there, beaten, I felt the first tear of frustration trickle down my face. If I couldn’t get Al to treat me with more respect, I would be alone. I couldn’t have a deeper relationship with Marshal because I’d make him a target. Pierce wasn’t even alive, and he was now going to live out eternity in the ever-after, plucked from my backyard. Eventually Al would turn to Ivy and Jenks. Unless I forced him to conform to common decency, everyone around me was living on a demon’s whim.
I couldn’t seem to catch a break.
Depressed, I sat on my kitchen floor and tried to keep from shaking. I needed someone to hold me, someone who would wrap me up in a blanket and take care of me while I figured it all out. And having no one, I held myself, holding my breath so another tear wouldn’t leak out. I was hurt and in pain, both in my body and heart. I could cry if I wanted to, damn it.
“Ivy,” Jenks said, panic in his small voice. “Pick her up. I’m too small. I can’t help her. She needs to be touched or she’s going to think she’s alone.”
I am alone.
“I can’t!” Ivy shouted, making me jump. “Look at me! If I touch her…”
Eyes wet, I looked up. A shiver ran through me as I saw her before the broken fridge, spent CO2 dripping from the shelves. Her eyes were full, vampire black. Her hands were clenched with repressed need. Instinct triggered by Rynn Cormel earlier tonight warred with her desire to comfort me. The instincts were winning. If she made one move to help me, she’d end up at my throat.
“I can’t touch you,” she said, tears slipping from her, making her look beautiful. “I’m so sorry, Rachel. I can’t…”
Jenks darted to the ceiling when she shifted into motion. She was fleeing, and in an eyeblink, the kitchen was empty. Wobbling, I got to my feet. She had fled, but I knew she wasn’t leaving the church. She just needed the time and space to find herself again.
“It’s okay,” I whispered, not looking at Jenks as I lurched to my feet. “It’s not her fault. Jenks, I’m going to take a shower. I’ll be better after a hot shower. Don’t let your kids near me until the sun comes up, okay? I couldn’t live with myself if Al snatched them.”
Jenks hovered where he was as I used the counter and then the wall for balance to stagger to the bathroom, my head down and my eyes unseeing. Behind me, I left the wreckage of the kitchen. A shower wouldn’t help, but I had to get out of the room.
I needed someone to hold me and tell me it was going to be okay. But I was alone. Jenks couldn’t help me. Ivy couldn’t touch me. Hell, even Bis couldn’t touch me. Everyone else I had come close to was dead or not strong enough to survive the crap my life dished out.
I was alone, just like Mia had said, and I always would be.
Eighteen
It had been hard staying asleep with Ivy’s crashing around this morning, coming in about ten, showering, by the sound of it, and leaving an hour later. Jenks’s kids hadn’t helped either, flying up and down the hall playing tag with Rex. Nevertheless, I buried my head in my pillow and stayed in bed as seven pounds of kitty fur slammed into walls and knocked over an end table. I was tired, aura sick, and depressed—and I was going to sleep in.
So several hours later, when Jenks locked Rex in my room to get his kids to shut up for their noon nap, I barely heard the front door open and the soft steps pass my door. Ivy, I assumed, and I sighed, snuggling deeper under my coverlet, glad that she’d found a shred of kindness and was going to let me sleep. But no. I was never that lucky.
“Rachel?” came a high-pitched whisper, and the sound of dragonfly wings susurrated into my dream of amber-tinted fields of grain. Pierce was stretched out in them, a stalk of wheat between his teeth, gazing up at red clouds. “You can’t kill me, mistress witch,” he said, smiling before he vanished with my conscious thought and I fully awoke.
“Go away, Jenks,” I mumbled and pulled the blanket over my head.
“Rache, wake up.” There was the scrape of my drapes being opened and the harsh clatter of Jenks’s wings. “Marshal is here.”
“Why?” Lifting my head, I squinted through my hair at the sudden light.
The memory of steps in the hall resurfaced, and I rolled to see my clock. Ten after one. Not much of a sleep-in. The sun was bright through my stained-glass window, and it was cold. Rex was a warm puddle at my feet, and as I watched, she stretched, ending it with an inquiring trill to Jenks, now standing beside the stuffed giraffe on my dresser.
“Marshal is here,” he repeated, his angular face looking concerned. “He brought breakfast. You know, doughnuts?”
I propped myself up on an elbow and tried to figure out what was going on. “Oh yeah. Where’s Ivy?�
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“Out pricing new refrigerators.” His wings blurred into motion, and he rose, his reflection in the mirror making twice the glow. “She spent the morning at Cormel’s, but she came back to shower before she went out. She told me to tell you that since you’re not in the ever-after today, she got an appointment to see Skimmer at six.”
Six? After sunset. Nice. I had wanted to have lunch with my mom and Robbie today, but I could postpone it a little. “I heard her come in.” I sat up and blearily looked at the clock again. I didn’t like that Ivy had been with Rynn Cormel, the pretty monster, but what could I say? And why does my mouth taste like apples? Leaning over, I pulled Rex across the mounds of covers to me for a cuddle hello. I liked her a lot more now that she would let me touch her.
“Are you going to get up?” Jenks added, his wings hitting a pitch akin to nails on a chalkboard. “Marshal is in the kitchen.”
Doughnuts. I could smell coffee, too. “I’m not even dressed,” I complained as I let go of Rex and swung my feet to the cold floor. “I’m a mess.” Thank God it’s daylight, or Al might come over and decide to take him, too.
The pixy crossed his arms over his chest, giving me a superior look as he stood beside my giraffe. “He’s seen you look worse. Like the time you rolled your snowmobile into those fir trees. Or when he took you ice fishing and you got minnow guts in your hair?”
“Shut up!” I exclaimed as I stood. Rex jumped to the floor and went to stand under the doorknob, waiting. “And stop trying to fix me up with him,” I said, fully awake and irritated. “I know you asked him to come over.”
He shrugged with one shoulder, looking embarrassed. “I want you to be happy. You aren’t. You and Marshal have a good time when you do stuff together, and Pierce is dangerous.”
“I’m not interested in Pierce,” I said, glaring at Jenks as I shoved my arms into the sleeves of my blue terry-cloth robe and tied it closed.
“Then why are you hell-bent for pixy dust on trying to rescue him?” he asked, but the severe attitude he was trying for was ruined by the smiling stuffed animal beside him. “If it wasn’t for him, you wouldn’t have hurt yourself last night.”
