Pale Demon th-9

by Kim Harrison

  Al’s eyes narrowed. “Trenton,” he growled, thick hands clenching.

  “If I’m lucky,” I said, wondering if Trent even knew my summoning name. Probably. “I need to talk to him and get the Latin for sliding Ku’Sox’s curse back onto him so I can walk free again. I did it wrong the last time.”

  I could almost see Al’s understanding hit him when his expression went blank. “You tried to slide his original curse back onto him?” Al said in wonder. “At the restaurant? And I stopped you? Sweet mother pus bucket!” he exclaimed, and I swear, dust sifted from the ceiling. “Rachel, we have to work on this communication thing.”

  Hand around my middle, I bent almost double. “I gotta go,” I panted. “Trent knows the curse. I have to talk to him. If I’m lucky, it’s him.”

  Again Al touched me, but this time, his hand was gentle on my shoulder. “And if you’re not, it’s Ku’Sox. He knows you’re too protected here, and you’re a threat to him. He’s summoning you. He’s summoning you to where I can’t follow. He’s going to try to kill you!”

  I panted, feeling my muscles shake as the pull worsened. God, I felt like I was being split in two. “Can’t be him. He doesn’t know my name.”

  “Trent does,” Al said, his grip on me tightening into pain for an instant. “I told you to take that elf firmly in hand. Trent let Ku’Sox out. They’re working together. They want you dead.”

  Holding my breath, I managed to look up, feeling a wash of betrayal. It couldn’t be Trent. I’d just gotten the Latin wrong. Right? “I gotta go,” I wheezed. “This is shitty, you know? How do you live like this?”

  “Rachel!” he cried, but it was too late, and I let go of my hold on the world. The pain subsided, and the comforting gray of Al’s kitchen vanished as I found myself yanked into the ley lines. Fear, hope, and anticipation rose high. If it was Ku’Sox, he was in for a nasty surprise. I was a self-pro-claimed demon, and I should start acting like it.

  But even as I thought it, my throat closed, and I felt a pang of homesickness. Ivy. Jenks. What would I tell them? Pierce, how could I explain what had happened? Trent…how would I kill him if he had betrayed me?

  Okay, so it might not be all bad.

  Twenty-seven

  The discordant jangle of San Francisco’s broken ley lines flooded my mind, and I watched as they all cycled down to one, foremost in my thoughts. I tried to listen to it without looking past the bubble of awareness that I was cocooned in, but without Bis to safely bring the sound in past my bubble, they all tasted the same.

  I shivered as my lungs formed and the memory of my body rose, giving my soul something to reside in. With a pop of sound, I found myself almost exactly where I’d been not three days ago, in the dead center of the stage where I’d been cursed.

  The lights were off, and it was dark but for the hiss of a kerosene lantern making a puddle of light on the stage. The circle imprisoning me took up most of it. Darkness made the huge room a cavern of black echoes from the drone of a generator in the distance. Acrid and sharp, the smell of broken cement tweaked my nose. Something had happened. The power was out.

  “You see!” Pierce said, and I spun to see him standing between Oliver and Vivian. There was a fourth witch in coven robes huddled on the floor behind them. “If she was a true demon, she could not be summoned in the day. Let your claims go, Oliver.”

  Pierce! I thought, then anger slid through me. They’d circled me. Like the demon that I was. Sucking on my teeth, I looked at the three witches standing in a row staring at me, the fourth completely out of it and shaking behind them. I wished it had been Ivy or Jenks—or even Trent.

  “Hi, Pierce,” I said dryly. “This your idea?” I added, pinging the barrier with a finger and drawing back before it could burn me. How they knew my summoning name, my real summoning name, not Al’s borrowed one, was a mystery, until I remembered that Pierce had probably been haunting me when I chose the stupid thing. Great, I’m a demon for less than a week, and already I’m fielding calls.

  Expression pained and a little lost, Pierce strode forward, his full-length coat coated with dust. His hair was mussed, and his motions were quick. My flash of anger died. Tired. I was tired. For one brief moment in Trent’s hotel, I had entertained the idea that even with our differences we might make a go of it. He loved me. I could love him, if I let myself be stupid. But I couldn’t even pretend anymore that circumstances might change someday. He was coven, and I was a demon. What was wrong with me? Why was I attracted to the very things that could hurt me?

  “Let her out, Oliver,” Pierce said, squinting in anger at the stoic man holding the bubble, and my heart clenched in regret. “She’s not a demon.”

  Yes, I am.

  Oliver crossed his arms over his chest, the dim light catching the Möbius-strip pin on his lapel. His circle looked well drawn, and with a little effort I might have been able to break it. But the reality was, I just didn’t care.

  “Hi, Vivian,” I said in greeting, not surprised that they were treating me like this. I’d saved her life, and here I was, circled like an animal. Hearing my bitter sarcasm, she dropped her gaze, ashamed. The last witch on the floor shivered, showing a masculine arm and blood-matted hair. The coven was down two witches. What had happened?

  “Drop your circle before I throw you into it!” Pierce said stridently. “Rachel is not a demon!”

  Again, Oliver made a grunt of negation, peering at me as if I were a bug, not a person he’d condemned three days ago. “No,” he said, his voice rough, as if he’d been yelling. “If we let her out before she agrees to do what we want, she won’t do it.”

  I couldn’t help my snicker at that, and I shifted my weight to my other foot, wishing I had something on my feet other than socks. It was cold in here, and I wrapped my arms around my short-sleeved shirt. “I got news for you, Ollie,” I said. “I’m not going to do what you want anyway.”

  Eyes wide, Pierce spun, making his coattails furl. “We are asking for help, not demanding it.” His eyes shifted to mine, pleading for forgiveness. “I’m sorry. The circle was not my idea.”

  But you went along with it. “You think if you ask for my help, I’ll give it for free?” I said, hearing my voice echo as my arms dropped to my sides. “After you let an elf curse me and label me a demon? In front of everyone?” Oh yeah. I have to talk to Trent. I looked at Oliver, seeing not a hint of guilt. “After you promised me a clean slate?”

  Pierce dropped his head, hearing my rebuke. Hell, I knew it had been a slip of his tongue that had put me here and him working for the coven. It hadn’t been intentional, but here I was, in a circle, and there he was, outside it. God, I was stupid. Tired, I was putting up a hand and glancing to the empty seats when a rumble echoed through the air. They all hunched, as if expecting the roof to come down, and the cowering witch shook, curling deeper into himself if that was at all possible. Leon?

  “What happened? Where are the rest of you?” I asked, fatigue lapping about my ankles.

  Vivian came forward into the light. Dressed in jeans and a sweater, she looked tired, as if she’d seen too much in too short a time. “We lost them,” she said, her expression closed. “Ku’Sox…”

  A pulse of adrenaline lit through me and my eye twitched when her words cut off in heartache. Ku’Sox. Why am I not surprised?

  “He killed them,” Pierce said bluntly. “Ate them as they screamed for succor. Then he ate their souls as they watched. Consumed them. That was yesterday. It could have been averted if the rest of these lily-livered ’fraidy-cats had listened to me sooner.”

  They want me to fight Ku’Sox for them, I mused, seeing the power outage and the smell of cracked cement in an entirely new way. A thread of adrenaline-laced hope pulled through me, making me stand a little straighter. They wanted something from me. I wanted something from them. But first, I needed to talk to Trent.

  I felt my lips curve up in a not-nice smile that made Oliver swear and Vivian swallow hard. Pierce alone seemed to
have expected the nasty expression of confident, bitter satisfaction that I knew I was now wearing. I’d seen it on Al, and only now did I understand it. We were all fools. All of us.

  “Ku’Sox tearing apart your reality isn’t my problem,” I said as I eyed my nails and wished I knew how to change my clothes into something suitably overbearing and sexy. “Who wants to banish me? Send me home?”

  I hit the last word hard with sarcasm, and Pierce gave Oliver a dark look that said to shut up and stop his muttering about demons. “Rachel, please,” he asked. “He’s destroying everything, killing people. You beat him before.”

  “Yeah?” I said, and Pierce lowered his eyes. “That was when I was a witch. Where are Ivy and Jenks?”

  All bluster and overdone emotion, Oliver strode forward until the hissing kerosene light made harsh shadows on his face. “You filthy demon. You’re in my circle, and you’ll do what I say!”

  I tapped the barrier between us to make his aura run from the dimple of impact. It held firm, even if only Oliver was holding it. He looked old. Tired. Not a surprise if he’d been fighting Ku’Sox for three days. “It doesn’t work that way,” I said lightly. “The thing about demons is they can say no, and I don’t like you.” Smiling wickedly, I leaned close, the barrier humming a complaint. “It’s called Let’s Make a Deal for a reason. You shunned me, sent fairies to burn my church, tried to kill me and my friends. Then you made me drag my sorry ass clear across the continent chasing a promise of forgiveness that I won from you fair and square, only to have you curse me and call me a demon. And now, when you’re in trouble, you have the balls to ask for my help?” I shook my head, not believing that Trent had anticipated all of this and prepared for it.

  “What on earth might you have that I want…hmmmm, I wonder,” I mused sarcastically, glancing at each of them in turn, Oliver in hate, Vivian in disappointment, and Pierce…well, he looked too tired to be sorry, but I could see his guilt.

  “I can’t begin to make reparation for this,” Pierce said, his old-world accent ringing clear. “And I’m prepared to make amends any way you see possible. I wasn’t of a mind that me winning the coven seat would put you in such straits. This was never my intent. It simply…happened.”

  It simply happened. The story of my life, and I slumped.

  The three coven witches watched me with varying degrees of hope, shame, and disgust, and I licked my lips. Three days ago, I would have said, “Give me my citizenship, and I’ll take Ku’Sox on,” but after having spent three days sleeping under Al’s protection because he thought I was vulnerable, I was having second, third, and fourth thoughts.

  But the chance to walk away from the ever-after was irresistible.

  Shifting my weight to my other foot, I cocked my hip, heart pounding. “You want me to get rid of Ku’Sox? Just what are you willing to give—Ollie? Or maybe I should say whom?”

  Oliver’s eyes widened. “Me?” he stammered, and I almost laughed.

  “You?” I said derisively as Vivian steeled her expression back to neutrality. “You’re not good for anything but bussing tables. What I want is all charges on me and my team dropped, every hint of my shunning exonerated, and I want you to publicly apologize to me and my family while standing in Fountain Square,” I said, looking straight at Oliver. “I want what you promised me last year, and I want you to kiss my lily. White. Ass.”

  “Never,” he whispered, and the slump of cloth in the shadows scrambled to life.

  “Give her what she wants!” Leon shrieked, launching himself at Oliver. “You promised it would be okay!” As they went down, Leon straddled him and his hands thumped Oliver’s head into the stage floor. “You said to vote with you, and it would be okay, and now Wyatt and Amanda are dead! They are dead, Oliver! He ate them!”

  “Leon! Stop!” Vivian cried, grabbing the hysterical man and pulling him away. Oliver’s foot hit the circle, and it fell with a tingling wash. Immediately I stepped over the line, back and away from them and into the shadows. No one but Pierce saw. Everyone else was focused on Oliver, who was getting to his feet and holding his face where Leon had hit his head on the floor, his eyes dark and venomous.

  “You promised!” Leon raged, huddled again and looking like a feral beast. “I trusted you. We all trusted you. And now we’re all dead!”

  In the distance, the sound of falling rock grew and died, and the earth trembled.

  “Where’s my team?” I asked, missing Jenks’s wiseass comments and Ivy’s steady support. “But most of all,” I said, free of the circle, “where is Trent Kalamack?”

  Oliver blanched, his next words choked back when he realized I was free. “You want him? You want us to give him to you? My God, you are a demon.”

  Pierce bowed his head, but I didn’t care what he thought. I didn’t want Trent for a familiar, I wanted five minutes alone with him to find out what I’d done wrong with that curse…or punch him in the mouth. It depended on what came out of it when I saw him. Give Ku’Sox the curse, he says. You’re the only one who can, he says. Stupid elf.

  Oliver started in on his overdone theatrics—something about getting me in a circle or they would all die—and Vivian left Leon looking at his blood-caked fingernails and mumbling to himself to argue with Oliver about morality and reality. I didn’t see what the big deal was if I was in a circle or not. They were probably all going to die if Ku’Sox was eating witches. That was just nasty.

  “She’s not going to drag us into the ever-after. Get a grip!” Vivian shouted, and Oliver finally shut up. “And get off your holier-than-thou pedestal! One person for an entire civilization? One person sacrificed for an entire world saved is cheap as far as I’m concerned!” she exclaimed, her face red in shame. “He’s the one who cursed her. What did you expect? We’ll give the elf a medal posthumously and put his daughter through college. Case closed. Life goes back to normal, and in twenty years, no one cares!”

  “You are as black as Pierce!” Oliver shouted, his face red in the hissing kerosene light, and the two of them started a loud, angry argument that I decided not to listen to anymore. The sad part was Vivian was right. That didn’t make me feel any better, though. They were ready to give me a person because they saw me as a way out. My God, who did we put our trust in?

  My anger fanned to life, and I frowned. “You think I want Trent as a familiar?” I said over their raised voices. “Take him into the ever-after with me and make him twist curses? Punish him for the curse he put on me? I just wanted to talk to the man. Funny how you all thought I wanted to drag him back with me or kill him outright. Thanks a hell of a lot. I appreciate that.”

  Oliver’s pudgy cheeks quivered. As his broken-voiced harangue echoed into nothing, he turned. Vivian, too, stopped yelling, and I crossed my arms over my middle and frowned, wondering what they’d do if I simply walked out of here. Would I be pulled back to the ever-after when the sun went down? I honestly didn’t know. When Trent cursed me, he hadn’t said anything about being pulled back. Since I was out of the circle, maybe I could stay?

  His head down, Pierce edged away from them, his shoes grinding the grit from the ceiling reminding me of the salt on my kitchen floor. “I never thought you were going to take Kalamack,” he said softly, and as his gaze darted from me to them, he asked, “You have a plan? You need Trent for it? I can find him.”

  I stifled a quiver at a surge of adrenaline. “I have an idea,” I admitted, “but Ivy’s the planner. Where is she?”

  Oliver and Vivian looked at each other, then me.

  “If you can get rid of Ku’Sox, you will be reinstated as a white witch,” Vivian said, not answering my question. “You’ll be pardoned for the black magic you have done up to and including what you perform to get rid of Ku’Sox,” she added. “The coven will leave you and your family alone. We don’t know the magic to get the demon curse lifted from you.”

  “Trent does,” I said, seeing no need to tell them that I knew how to get rid of it myself. Mostly. The Turn take
it, I hoped I wasn’t being stupid again. I didn’t mind being stupid once, but twice with the same person was getting old. “But I’m not a white witch,” I said, forcing my teeth not to clench. “I am a demon, and I want it to be official. Other than that, we have a deal. Oh, and I don’t want to be responsible for the damage I do trying to get rid of him. Okay?”

  Vivian looked scared, but Oliver gestured with a sarcastic motion that it was okay with him. Pierce closed his eyes as if pained. The arrangement wasn’t anything I could hold them to, and I didn’t expect them to honor it. Right now, all I wanted was a shot at getting the curse shifted from me back to Ku’Sox.

  “So where is the little genetic designer dump of a demon?” I said, liking the insulting moniker that Al had given Ku’Sox. I had no idea how I was going to do this, but knowing where he was would be a start.

  Vivian looked to the closed, locked double doors. “Just follow the screaming.”

  A quick breath slipped in and out. “And Ivy and Jenks? I’m going to need their help.”

  No one said anything. My heart seemed to stop when they both looked at Pierce.

  “Ku’Sox has them,” he said, and I quivered, fear sliding through me. “I opine he’s not killed them outright, but is keeping them intact to call you out.”

  Twenty-eight

  The vivid maroons and contrasting golds of the carpet had dulled to a gray smudge under the choking dust from broken concrete. It didn’t help that the light was almost nonexistent as I strode through the hotel lobby, the ambient sun not able to reach deep enough into the large building to make a difference. Everywhere around me, people were quietly crying, whispering, or staring blankly as they huddled under yellow blankets pulled from hotel rooms, sitting against the walls or in informal groups in the middle of the floor. It was quiet. There were no more decisions to be made. They were down to just existing, shocked into a blank state, their minds as dull as the carpet, coated with the remnants of destruction. It stank of cracked rock and terror that had lost its ability to motivate.