by Kim Harrison
I hadn’t known that, and I wondered if it was a species thing or just me.
“Which is exactly why I’m not doing what my dad sent me to do, asking you to work that party,” Glenn said as he stood unperturbed in our kitchen and mowed down his pizza crust. Wings clattering, Jenks backed down, and Glenn glanced at me. “If he calls, swear a lot and tell him I gave you a hard time, will you? He has no idea what it’s like to have a compromised aura. I’m glad you’re both staying in tonight.”
I didn’t shift my eyes from him, but it was hard not to look at Ivy, who had turned with that beefsteak swathed in a towel, a smile quirking her lips. “Yeah, a nice and quiet night,” I said, hoping he didn’t see my spell books. Fingers slow, I folded the paper up and set it deliberately on top of them.
Ivy turned her back on us, but I think she was still smiling as she continued washing the tomatoes, setting them to dry one by one.
“Well, I gotta go,” Glenn said, dusting his hands and looking at the leftover pizza. “Thanks, ladies. Don’t let my dad get to you. He really wants to nail this woman and doesn’t realize what he’s asking of you.”
“No problem.” Now I felt guilty, and I stood up, handing him the pizza box. His eyes lit up as he took it, but I wished he’d get out of here. I had to prep for tonight. Sure, I had agreed not to circle Al, but there were other ways to catch a demon, and I wondered if turning him into a mouse would work. I knew I could do that one. “Have a great New Year’s, Glenn.”
The FIB detective smiled. “You, too.” He picked up one of the clean tomatoes and tucked it in his pocket. Winking, he said, “Don’t tell my dad about the tomatoes, okay?”
“I’ll take it to my grave.” Which might be as soon as tonight…
Ivy turned from folding up the grocery bag and sliding it under the sink. “Glenn, are you headed in to work?” she asked, and he hesitated.
“Ye-e-es,” he hedged. “You want a ride?”
“I have a few words of wisdom for Edden about that little bitch of a banshee,” she said, grimacing, then added, looking at me, “Unless you need me to stick around?”
Jenks’s wings clattered in agitation, and mystified, I glanced at my spell books. “I’m just going to play with my junior cook books,” I said, and then worried that guilt might make her try to face Mia alone, I added, “You’ll be back before the ball drops, right?”
The rim of brown around her eyes shrank slightly. “You know it. I’ll get my coat,” she said, and turning, she strode out of the kitchen, moving with that eerie grace.
From the paper, Jenks muttered, “Need her to stick around? Who does she think she is?”
“I heard that!” Ivy shouted from the sanctuary, and there was a squeal of pixies.
Glenn was moving to the door. “Take care of yourself, Rachel,” he said, and I angled for a hug, my bad mood squeezed out by the big man who now smelled like pizza.
“You, too,” I said, my smile fading as I became serious and rocked back. “Glenn, I want to get this woman, but it needs some solid planning.”
“You don’t need to tell me twice.”
He turned to follow Ivy, and I touched his sleeve, stopping him. “Hey, if you see Ford today, will you tell him I’m ready to make an appointment?”
A smile holding what looked like pride came over him. “I will. Good for you, Rachel.”
“Glenn?” came from the sanctuary, and he rolled his eyes.
“Coming, Mother,” he called, and headed out, pizza box in hand. I heard his feet in the hall, a chorus of tiny good-byes, and the door closing. Content, I slid the pancake mix away.
Jenks sat on the rim of the coffeemaker, his wings fanning in the rising warmth. “You might want to get dressed if you’re going to fight demons today,” he said, and I looked at him from around my sleep-stringy hair.
“Will you watch the door while I shower?” I asked, and he buzzed his wings.
“Duh.”
The pixies were loud, playing with the cherry tomatoes as I shuffled into my bathroom to get the water going. I was looking forward to a long soak, and I blissfully lost myself in lather, rinse, and repeat. Eyes closed, I stood under the hot water and breathed in the steam, reluctant to get out and get back to my life. I’d spent four years using a crappy, low-volume shower thanks to Mrs. Talbu, and the high-output, energy-inefficient head that Ivy had installed even before I’d moved in was better than therapy. Not that I needed therapy. Na-a-a-ah. Not me.
The spray suddenly went cold, and gasping, I pushed from the wall, making my back smack the one behind me. “Jenks!” I shouted in a burst of adrenaline. “Knock it off!”
The water hitting my feet grew warm, but my mood had soured and I got out and reached for my towel. My motions were rough as I dried my hair and worked my way down. Apparently Jenks thought I was clean enough. Wrapped in a towel, I swiped at the mirror to take stock. Not too bad, I decided, apart from lingering circles under my eyes. Not too bad at all for having been bitch-slapped by a banshee twice in as many days.
From outside the door came the clatter of pixy wings and a hesitant “Rachel?”
My towel slipped as I rummaged for a complexion spell. “Very funny, Jenks. I could have slipped and cracked my head open.” The humming of wings grew louder, and I snatched my towel higher. “Jenks!” I exclaimed as he darted under the door. “I didn’t say to come in!”
His wings a bright red, Jenks turned his back on me. “Sorry. Uh, I thought you ought to know Marshal is here,” he said apologetically.
Panic iced through me, and I tightened my grip on my towel. “Get him out of here, Jenks!” I just about hissed. “I’ve been shunned!”
The pixy glanced over his shoulder, then revolved in the air to face me. “I think he knows already. He wants to talk to you. Rache, I’m sorry. He looks mad.”
Shit, I’d been shunned. Marshal hadn’t come over to hold my hand and tell me he could make it all better. I’d told him I was a white witch, and I was, but now…”
“Tell him to go away,” I said, chickening out. “Tell him to leave before someone knows he’s here and they shun him, too.” But the pixy only shook his head.
“No. He has a right to tell you to your face.”
I took a breath. My head started to hurt. This is going to be way fun. Turning to the mirror, I started brushing my hair. Arms crossed, Jenks waited for the right answer. The brush got tangled in my hair, and frustrated, I smacked it on the tiny counter. “I’ll be out in three minutes,” I said to get him to leave.
Nodding, he dropped to the floor. A faint glimmer of light, and he was gone.
I had underwear in the dryer and a camisole hanging over the industrial-size tub. My bathroom was really a glorified laundry room, but it was easier than sharing the more traditional bathroom across the hall with Ivy. Besides, I had jeans fresh from the dryer most days. No socks, though, I thought as I gave my hair a last brush and let it hang damp.
Worried, I quietly opened the door and looked hesitantly down the hall. It was cool out here compared to the moist warmth of the bathroom, and I could smell fresh coffee. Padding down the hall on silent bare feet, I peeked into the kitchen to find Marshal sitting with his back to me. I was out of his peripheral eyesight, and I hesitated.
He looked empty, or maybe just deep in thought as he stared at the grimy floor where the fridge had been, probably wondering what happened. His long legs were bent comfortably under the table, and the reflected sun glinted on his short curly hair. This was going to be hard. I didn’t blame him for being mad at me. I’d told him I was a white witch and he had trusted me. Society said different.
Resolute, I pushed myself off the archway and into the kitchen. “Hi.”
Marshal pulled his feet under him and spun. “Hey, you gave me a start,” he said, his eyes wide and color flashing into his face. “I didn’t expect you out for another ten minutes.”
Giving him a tiny smile, I looked for something to hide behind, but all that was between us
was space. Lots of new space. “You want some coffee?”
The cups scraped as I got two new ones out, and he said nothing as I filled them. He remained silent as I slid one in front of him. “I’m sorry,” I said as I retreated, putting the island counter between us. Scared, almost, I took a sip. Hot bitterness slipped down. Gathering my courage, I set the mug by the sink. “Marshal—”
His eyes met mine, cutting me off. They weren’t angry, they weren’t sad, they were…empty. “Let me say something, and then I’ll go,” he said. “I think I’m allowed that much.”
Depressed, I crossed my arms over my middle. My stomach hurt. “I’ll get the shunning removed,” I said. “You know this is a mistake. I’m not a black witch.”
“When I went to the registrar’s office about your classes this morning, my supervisor came in. He told me not to see you anymore,” he said abruptly. “I think that’s funny.”
Funny. That’s what he’d said, but his face was grim. “Marshal…”
“I don’t like people telling me what I can’t do,” he added, sounding angry this time.
“Marshal, please.”
His broad chest expanded and contracted, and he looked past me, toward the snowy garden. “Don’t worry about it.” Bringing his focus back into the kitchen, he shifted forward to reach into a back pocket of his jeans. “Here’s your check. It will be a rainy day in the ever-after before they will cash it.”
Swallowing, I stared at the envelope, feeling unreal as I took it. It was heavier than it should be, and I looked inside. My eyes widened. “Two tickets to the party at the top of the Carew Tower?” I said, shocked he even had them, much less was giving them to me. “Why?”
Marshal grimaced, eyes on the floor. “I was going to ask you if you wanted to come with me to a New Year’s Eve party tonight,” he said, “but why don’t you just take both tickets. You’re going to need a lot of ambient energy to make that charm work. The top of the tower ought to be close enough.”
My lips parted, and I stared at the formal invitations in my hand. I didn’t know what was going on anymore. Jenks had said he was mad. Why was he helping me? “I can’t take these.”
He cracked his neck and backed up a step. “Sure you can. Put them in your pocket and say thank you. My supervisor is going to be there.” Marshal sniffed. “You should meet him.”
An uncertain smile came over my face. He wanted me to meet his supervisor? Maybe get a picture of us together? “And I thought I was wicked,” I said, eyes warming. Damn it, he’s leaving me. Well, what did I expect?
Marshal didn’t smile back. “He’s got red hair. Can’t miss him.” Gaze distant, he took up his coffee. “It’s a fund-raiser for the university. Kalamack will be there. He’s a major benefactor, so he’s always invited. He’s not a witch, so he probably won’t care if you’re shunned. You’ll have someone to talk to until someone tells him.”
My face lost expression at the utter blankness he had given the word “shunned,” like it meant nothing. “Thank you,” I said meekly. “Marshal, I’m sorry,” I said as he reached for his coat, on the back of his chair, and I just about died when he put up a hand to stop me before I could get close. I froze where I was, feeling the hurt.
“It was fun,” Marshal said, eyes down. “But then you got shunned, and, Rachel…” His gaze rose to mine, anger in it. “I like you. I like your family. I have fun when we get together, but what pisses me off is that I let myself start to think about spending my life with you, and then you go do something so stupid that it gets you shunned. I don’t even want to know what it was.”
“Marshal.” I never had a choice. I never had a damned choice!
“I don’t want to do this,” he said, not letting me interrupt. “And trust me,” he said, gesturing, “I thought hard about it, really weighed what I wanted and what I was willing to give for a possible life with you. I came over here ready to curse the world, to try to find out who did this to you and find a way to get the shunning rescinded, but then…” Marshal gritted his teeth, making his jaw muscles bunch. “I’m only going to get myself shunned. I can’t live outside society. You’re a fun, beautiful, fabulous woman,” he said, as if trying to convince himself. “Even if you do get the shunning rescinded, what are you going to do next? I like my life.” He looked at me, and I blinked fast. “Now I’m just angry that you can’t be a part of it,” he finished.
I couldn’t seem to breathe, and I held the edge of the center counter to hide my vertigo.
“No hard feelings, okay?” he said as he turned.
I nodded. “No hard feelings,” I breathed. Marshal wasn’t a bad man for wanting out. He wanted to be part of something, and I clearly wasn’t able to put my needs aside and put ours first. Maybe if my life wasn’t so crappy, it wouldn’t show as much and we could have tried, but not now. It wasn’t his fault. I’d screwed up, and asking him to pay the price with me wasn’t fair.
“Thanks, Marshal,” I whispered. “For everything. And if you ever need help from the dark side…” I gestured helplessly as my throat closed. “Call me.”
A faint smile turned the edges of his mouth up. “No one else.”
And then he was gone, his steps fading as he walked away from me. I heard a soft murmur as he said good-bye to the pixies, and then the closing of a door.
Numb, I sank into my chair at the table. Eyes unseeing, I pulled my spell book closer, covering up the letter from the university. Wiping my eyes, I opened it and started searching.
Twenty-six
The wind funneling between the tall buildings down by the river picked up tiny bits of ice and grit, and they hit my legs like pinpricks. I hated nylons. Even black ones with glitter. Hunching into my dressy long felt coat, I hustled after Ivy, head down and pace fast. Trying to do this charm in the parking garage would have been miserable, and I was glad for the invitations if only for that, but now that we’d be inside, Jenks could come. He was currently in my bag sitting on one of those hand warmers hunters use. With him at my back and Ivy guarding the ladies’ bathroom door, this would be a snap. That is, if we got up there in time. If we didn’t hurry, we’d be in the elevator at midnight.
A gust of wind brought me the scent of fried vendor food, and I squinted ahead to one of Carew Tower’s street entrances. Carew Tower was right over Fountain Square, and people were everywhere, milling through the closed-off streets as both FIB and I.S. cruisers blocked the way. It wasn’t as bad as the solstice, when they closed the circle by lottery, but the uproar at midnight ought to be a big enough collective emotion to do the spell. Actually, it was a lot like the night I had first summoned Pierce, trying to bring my dad back for some parental advice, weather and all.
Reminded, I held my bulging bag tighter, trying not to squish Jenks. I had everything in it I’d need to do the charm, including a set of clothes for Pierce, and my splat gun. Beside me, Ivy’s steps were short and fast because of her heels.
“Sure are a lot of witches,” she said as we made our way across the street.
“Any excuse to party, right?” I said, then took a longer look. She was pale in her long coat with her hair whipping in the wind. And worried. “We make you nervous, don’t we?”
She met my eyes as we stepped up onto the curb. “You don’t.”
I smiled. “Thanks.” I understood. Most vampires made me nervous, especially when they gathered.
The doorman opened the glass doors for us so we didn’t have to use the revolving entryway, and we entered together. The cessation of the wind was a blessed relief, and I immediately opened my bag. “You okay, Jenks?” I said, peering down to find him sitting awkwardly beside the warmer.
“Freaking fantabulous,” he muttered. “Tink’s tampons, I think my wing snapped off. What are you doing out there? Jumping jacks?”
“Stay put until we get up there,” I said so he wouldn’t come out to prove that the echoing entryway wasn’t too cold—which it was. “I only have two invitations.”
“Like t
hey could stop me?” he said, and I smiled at Ivy’s snicker.
I left the bag unzipped as Ivy and I clacked our feminine way to the restaurant’s elevator, where the man in the white uniform checked our invitations and then our coats. The night air from the revolving door was cold on my bare shoulders, and I let my coat go with regret. The doors to the elevator had been polished to a shine, and I resisted the urge to adjust my nylons as I shifted to get a better appreciation of the work I had done to look like this.
My heels, nylons, and a long black dress with no shoulders and a choker neckline looked good. I’d picked it out last week, almost able to feel Kisten in my thoughts as I shut out the clerk’s enthusiastic recommendations for something with more flash. I’d nearly gotten the little dress that showed off my butt, but I’d listened to Kisten’s memory instead. I looked great with my hair up off my neck in a complicated braid that had taken five of Jenks’s kids to do. It had even held up in the wind.
Ivy was dressed just as dramatically, having pulled a bright red dress out of her closet, and going from workout tights to glamorous sophisticate in ten minutes. Her neckline was cut low, and the slit in the dress went to midthigh. A lace shawl graced her shoulders. I knew the shawl was for a vampire’s benefit, more enticing around her neck than bare skin. Apart we looked good. Together we looked fantastic, with her Asian heritage standing as a beautiful contrast to my pale, dead-fish complexion.
An older couple smelling of too much perfume and aftershave stood ahead of us as the silver doors opened and we all got in. A spike of adrenaline went through me, and I shifted my lumpy bag to my front. This had to work. I’d prepped Pierce’s substance spells in exactly the same way, and I had my splat gun loaded with sleepy-time charms. Ivy would man the bathroom door, Jenks would help me with Al. Nothing would get past them. And when it was over, we could party the new year in together, ghost, vamp, witch, and pixy.
