Pale Demon th-9

by Kim Harrison

  He awkwardly edged back, and I breathed easier. “Ivy?” I called as I strode to the kitchen. “Belle’s been hurt!”

  “Belle?” came from her room. “Is she okay?”

  “I think so. I’ll let you know in a minute.”

  Jenks’s wings were clattering, and Bis was a bright spot as he crawled along the ceiling to get there before me. His expression worried, Jenks dusted at my shoulder, not coming to rest there like he might have otherwise. “Ivy knew, too?” he asked, and I realized his somber mood wasn’t because he felt bad but because he was the last to know.

  I flipped the bright kitchen lights on, squinting. Bis had said he’d talked to her; she had to be awake. “Jenks, if a fairy can hide in your garden for three months, then have the grace to help your kids survive an attack, don’t you think you should rethink your attitude?” I turned to him, and his defiance faltered. “You’re going to live to be forty years old. You’re going to have to grow up. It’s a small world after all, or didn’t you go on that ride?”

  Wings silent, Jenks hovered dead center in the doorway, at a complete loss. Trent edged in around him, taking in the kitchen as he stood between Ivy’s farm table and the center counter. My annoyance at Jenks vanished in a flash of memory: a memory of Trent standing in my unreal kitchen, confused, irritated, and attractive as all hell as he tried to save my soul with a kiss. And then the kiss itself, burning its way through me, kindling my chi back to life. I’d been mortified when I’d woken up and discovered that the kiss had been real—which didn’t negate how good it had felt, but did lead me back to Trent standing with Lucy in his arms, his eyes roving over my kitchen as if comparing it to his memory.

  Flustered, I turned, seeing the chrysalis trapped under the brandy snifter where my Mr. Fish had once been. My beta was still in the ever-after with Al, and I hoped the demon would remember to feed him. Maybe Pierce would do it—if he was still alive.

  With a surprising jolt, my eyes started to swim and I spun before Trent could see, hiding my tears by opening the window behind me wider and letting in the night air and the sound of pixies. Someone was mowing his lawn at half-past midnight. They don’t sell lawn tractors with headlights for nothing. I didn’t know if my sudden emotion was relief that I was home—really home—or that I’d said good-bye to everything in the ever-after for good.

  A small touch on my shoulder shocked me, and I stiffened to find Bis standing beside the sink, his eyes wide in concern as something he had no control over had set me to shaking. But even his worry did nothing to help; he was touching me, and I couldn’t feel a thing. There was nothing in my mind, nothing but a faint hum of elven magic coming from my wrist. And I missed the ley lines, even as I relished the freedom I now had.

  “I’m fine,” I whispered to him, then squared my shoulders and turned slowly on my heel. “Belle?” I warbled, and Jenks stared at me like I’d gone nuts when I wiped the back of my hand over my eye. Trent made no comment, but he gingerly sat on the edge of Ivy’s chair, his foot in the cast tucked under it.

  A ping at the rack over the center counter drew all our attention up, and Jenks flushed, swearing and dusting an embarrassed red when a tiny white-haired head showed over my smallest spell pot, the one with the dent in it. I still didn’t know how it had gotten there. The dent, not the pot.

  “Welcome back, Rachel” came Belle’s curious hissing accent, sounding like crickets. “Have a good vacation?”

  My eyes darted to Trent, thinking of the wingless fairies he now had in his garden. If he hadn’t known they’d come from me, he soon would. “I’ve had better,” I said, head craning. “Are you okay? Jenks said there was a fight.”

  Jenks made a small sound as a thin line dropped from the bowl and Belle snaked down it. She looked odd in a bright pink pixy dress that was too short for her, and I glanced at Jenks on the spigot, his arms crossed and standing almost sideways so he wouldn’t have to face her.

  “I’m fine,” she said, smacking her bare leg and the bandage there. “It’s going to take a few more days before I can pull my longbow with any strength, but I’ll mend. If I live or die, doesn’t matter. We held our territory.” Her eyes went to Bis on top of the fridge, and she smiled. “I like the shirt.”

  “Thanks.”

  I did a double take at the soft shyness in his voice. Jenks had heard it, too, and cleared his throat, making Bis blush a deep black.

  “Your territory,” Belle amended, thinking that’s what Jenks had taken offense to. I wasn’t so sure.

  Wings clattering, Jenks landed beside her. His eyes went to her bandage, then her face. She looked like a long-armed, sinewy Amazon next to him. “Uh, thank you,” he said grudgingly, glancing nervously at Trent, but the man was more interested in the spell pots over the counter, his hand gently patting Lucy as she slept. “I should have said that first off.” Belle’s sparse eyebrows rose, and he added, “Thanks for telling them what to do. They’re good kids, but—” He tried again. “You saved their lives. Please…stay in my garden. If you like.”

  Even as hesitant and possessive as that had been, I looked at Bis in wonder. The gargoyle was grinning, accepting Jenks’s change of heart with a quickness only a kid could possess. I’d be a little more hesitant, but Jenks wouldn’t say anything unless he meant it.

  Belle’s long features were pale and out of place with the pixy colors on her. “Your hair is getting long,” she said shortly, her tone giving nothing away.

  Jenks’s hand went up to touch it. “Yeah, well, I don’t have anyone to cut it anymore.”

  I wondered how these two warriors were going to find a way to exist together. Belle finally nodded her acceptance of his apology but clearly was withholding complete judgment.

  Feeling awkward, I opened the fridge and cringed. Yep, we were down to water, ketchup, and a tub of butter. Maybe I could make Trent a virgin Bloody Mary; we had some Worcestershire sauce, too. “Anyone want to order pizza?” I said softly, wondering how long it would take for Quen to check out the graveyard.

  “I do!” Bis chimed out, and I ducked when Jenks’s kids swarmed in from the garden and hallway, shouting out their toppings. Their high-pitched voices woke up Lucy, and she began to wail, frightened. Bis pinned his ears to his skull and made the jump to the top of the fridge. Trent frowned as he tried to calm Lucy, but the pixy girls were humming over her and scaring her even more. Clearly they had been eavesdropping, and the lure of pizza had overridden their fear of their dad. Nasturtium blossoms?

  “Jenks!” I exclaimed as I shut the fridge door, and he shrugged.

  Belle, too, had sat down, her bored expression clearly saying that it wasn’t her problem. “You’ve had nothing but pizza for a week,” she complained, her voice loud to be heard over the noise. “I would have thought you’d be tired of it by now.”

  “Pizza?” Jenks exclaimed. “What about all the good food I put aside…” His voice faltered. “Never mind,” he finished, scowling at Bis, and the gargoyle went three shades darker in embarrassment. “I want you all out!” he shouted, and the noise was cut by about half, leaving only Lucy crying. “Out and watching that elf in the garden!”

  “But, Papa,” one of his younger daughters complained, “he’s only sitting in the car.”

  That figured, and I gave Trent a sidelong glance. Check out my property, huh? Make sure everything is safe, eh? What do you want, Trent? I sighed as it struck me that this was the way I’d begun this mess, standing in my kitchen and wondering what Trent wanted.

  “Go! All of you!” Jenks said, pointing, and they flowed from the kitchen, a mix of complaints and shouted topping requests. “Asleep when the garden was invaded! You’d all be dead if not for Belle. What have you been doing all week? Watching TV?” Jenks crabbed as the last of them left.

  Lucy’s blanket was almost slipping from her, and I wanted to go tuck it back around her. Trent had given her a pacifier, and Lucy was wide-eyed in his arms, quiet but sucking on it with a vengeance, angry almost. It b
rought a smile to my face.

  The sound of Ivy’s boots was loud as she came in, having changed into lots of leather. Hand on her hip and posture screaming sexual domination, she gave Trent the once-over as he sat in her chair. The angry, frustrated baby on his lap seemed to grant him some immunity, and she turned away with only the slightest widening of her pupils. “I’m going out. You going to be okay?” she asked.

  Across the kitchen, Trent’s posture seemed to relax, which only tightened mine. He wanted to talk to me alone. Great. We had just spent five hours in a little tin can flying through the air. Couldn’t he have brought it up then?

  “Go.” I wiggled my fingers for the pizza coupons stuck to the fridge, and she handed them to me.

  “If you’re sure,” she prompted, and my eyes met hers, sending a shock of realization through me. We were home, and though everything had changed, we were still solid. Better, even.

  “You really want to stay for pizza?” I asked, and she took a backward step to the hallway, smiling as well to tell me she knew it too.

  “No. See you after sunup. Bye, Trent,” she called over her shoulder when she reached the hallway, then louder, “Jenks! Can I talk to you for a moment about our security?”

  A knot in me unraveled. We were okay. Grinning at me, Jenks rose up. “Coming, Mother!” he mocked.

  Her boots clunked into the sanctuary, and I watched Belle snake down to the floor, sword ready as she braved Jenks’s cat to go outside.

  “I’m glad you’re home, Ms. Rachel,” Bis said shyly, taking his shirt off and leaving it on top of the fridge before he jumped to the ceiling and crawled out after Belle. There was a faint scrape of nail on stone, and I figured he’d slithered out through the flue in the back living room instead of using the smaller cat door.

  Yes, it was a weird life, but it was mine, and I wouldn’t trade it for anything.

  Trent scuffed his foot cast against the floor, and my anxiety came flowing back. Ignoring him, I wiped the dust from the phone and scooted up onto the counter as I tried to remember what he liked on his pizza. Just in case he was staying.

  The bracelet on my wrist jingled, and I breathed deeply for the faint scent of burnt amber still clinging to me. The band of silver around my wrist seemed to send sparkles into me, and I shivered. I could hear the pixies playing in the night, the near and far-off sounds of life in motion. Exhaling, I remembered the glory of the collective rolling through my mind, the power at my fingertips, and the knowledge that I could create something from nothing. It was gone. Forever.

  “You could have all this, too, Trent,” I said, hearing the dissatisfaction in my voice. “All you have to do is quit your job, piss off the vampires, the Weres, a stupid human who knows black magic, and let a demon loose on a major metropolitan area. Oh wait, you did that.”

  He laughed, but his smile faded fast. “You don’t have to keep it,” Trent said suddenly, his gaze going to my wrist. “I gave it to you so you’d have a choice, not to hide from them.”

  I cringed inside, not liking that I’d telegraphed so much. “I already made my choice,” I said, but I couldn’t meet his eyes.

  He was silent, buying time by tucking Lucy’s blanket up as she willfully kicked it off. “It was an awful lot of power to give up,” he said, and a flash of anger lit and died in me.

  “It was an awful lot of trouble it caused,” I answered, uncomfortable as I looked over the coupons. They were expired, but the delivery guys didn’t care if you tipped them enough.

  “I don’t know if I could make myself that vulnerable after making so many enemies,” he said, his gaze on the smudged counter where we’d cut out cookies.

  I looked up, wondering if he was going to offer me protection, and if I could get Lucy away from him before I smacked him in the bahoogies. “Enemies are nothing new,” I said calmly. “At least no one is gunning for me. And I can still do earth magic.” He looked to the dusty bowls overhead. “Maybe I can relax for a while. Rescue some familiars out of trees for a change.”

  His expression smoothed, almost becoming a smile. “I do believe that’s why you quit the I.S., remember? Boring runs?”

  I snorted, nodding as I scanned the coupons. Everything was for Alfredo pizza as they tried to curry the favor of humans. “Be careful what you wish for.”

  “Because you might get it.” Trent gazed at the dark square of night past the window.

  The memory of that kiss we shared rose up in my thoughts, and I grimaced. “I’ll be fine,” I said softly.

  “I’m not so confident,” Trent said, and he raised a hand. It was the one with the missing fingers, and I hesitated. “You’re not helpless,” he added, “but I’ve had my lawyers look into your situation, and it’s not as clear cut as you want it to be.”

  “My situation,” I scoffed. Agitated, I slid from the counter to throw the coupons away. Pizza had the appeal of cardboard right now. “There aren’t any laws for demons,” I said, fidgeting. “And if there aren’t any laws for demons, I can’t break them. I don’t need a license to practice magic. I’m not shunned. I can sell stuff now. People can sell to me.”

  “But will they?” he asked, his brow furrowed as he gave voice to my real worry.

  Probably not. “The I.S. is off my case, and the vamps. Jeez, Trent. For the first time, there is no one gunning for me, including you!” I protested.

  “I’ll give you that.” Trent was smiling, Lucy drowsing on his lap. “But along with no legislation on the books for demons and their magic, there are no laws protecting you, either. If Rynn Cormel wanted, he could drive over here, shove you in his trunk, and drive away.”

  I leaned back against the counter and crossed my arms over my middle. “That’s the last thing he is going to do,” I said, not sure I believed it.

  “Probably, but he could.” Trent was looking at Lucy, but talking to me. “Anyone could. A stray dog has more legal protection than you.” His eyes met mine, and I stifled a shiver, knowing he was right. “That band of silver around your wrist makes you almost helpless, and anyone with enough smarts will know it. There are no laws that pertain directly to demons, and until there are, you are vulnerable.”

  “Vulnerable.” There was that word again, and it rang through me like a warning bell. The stronger I got, the more vulnerable I was.

  “You take favors from me,” he said, “but you are not on my payroll. You claim to be protected by a master vampire, but you have no ties of blood, and you saw how deep Cormel’s word went when he was confronted by the coven. Ivy can’t protect you from everything, either. You’re the alpha female of a Were pack, but you don’t live with David and refuse to take a tattoo to show affiliation.”

  “What if I get the tattoo?” I said, hearing the truth in his words. “I didn’t before because it wouldn’t last through a transformation curse, but I don’t have to worry about that now.”

  “A tattoo isn’t going to fix this,” he said, his eyes intently on mine. “You are a demon, but you can’t perform the magic to back yourself up. I’m not telling you that you need to take that charmed silver off to survive, but I’m asking you to stay out of trouble for a while. Lay low for about six months. I’m trying to get some legislation protecting you pushed through, but it’s going to take a while.”

  Stunned, I looked at him sitting in my kitchen with a baby on his lap, his dress pants wrinkled and his shirt almost untucked. I didn’t know what to say. He was helping me? For nothing? “Why?” I asked, and he stood, agitated as he began to pace with a sleeping Lucy.

  “Just six months,” he said, not answering me. “David and I can’t keep slapping Band-Aids on the chaos you leave behind. The lawsuits alone—”

  “Lawsuits?” I asked, my arms untwisting from my middle. “Who?”

  “Who doesn’t matter…,” he said evasively.

  “Who?” I said loudly. “I want to know who tried to sue me,” I said softer when Lucy’s hand rose, startled by my voice.

  Shifting Lucy to his
shoulder, he began to rock without moving his feet, a movement new to him but as old as fire and having the grace of a thousand years. “There was one from a woman about dog theft,” he said calmly. “And a couple from my wedding. That’s how I got involved. Someone on a bus thought you hexed them with bad luck. Two people sued when you crashed your car into the bridge.”

  Hands clenched, I turned to the window, wanting to hide how disturbed I was. I owed David a big thank-you. I knew he’d been paying my lawyer, but I hadn’t realized I’d been keeping him so busy. And how did Trent figure into it?

  “The one concerning the Rays’ fish went away when I brought it up at a party,” Trent continued, answering my unasked question. “The harassment lawsuit from the Howlers for magicking their field…That was harder. That woman doesn’t like me.”

  I shrugged. “They weren’t going to pay me,” I muttered.

  Trent sighed. “You getting your five-hundred-dollar fee cost David several thousand,” he said, still rocking, his damaged hand pressing into Lucy, holding her close. “He’s not begrudging it, but it supports what I’m saying. I’ve got my people working on getting some laws on the books for you, but until they do, you have all the drawbacks of being a noncitizen and none of the protection. And that’s not even bringing up the fact that for every person looking for monetary compensation, there will be at least two looking to take you on for the notoriety.”

  My head came up. “What?”

  He shrugged, Lucy on his shoulder. “A demon with no magic? You are irresistible, and there will be idiots lining up to prove they’re stronger than the great Rachel Morgan, demon banisher and savior of San Francisco.”

  I didn’t like his mocking tone, but what could I say? “I understand,” I managed flatly, not knowing how I was going to iron out this new wrinkle. Six months. I could do nothing for six months.