by Kim Harrison
"You ass!" I shouted. "Do you realize what would happen if Al came back and found you gone? Are you that inconsiderate, or just that stupid? Put this back on!"
Angry, I threw the ring of charmed metal at him. His hands were full, and he sidestepped it. With a thunk, the ring hit the tapestry and then the floor. Pierce's hand extending the coffee drooped, his enthusiasm fading. "I'd do naught to hurt you, mistress witch."
"I am not your mistress witch!" Ignoring the coffee, I looked at the bits of burnt paper in a soggy mess on the floor. Kneeling, I snatched the dish towel from the table to sop it up. I could smell raspberry-flavored Italian blend, and my stomach growled.
"Rachel," Pierce coaxed.
Pissed, I wouldn't look up at him as I wiped the floor. Standing, I tossed the towel to the table in disgust, then froze. The aura bottle wasn't green anymore.
"Rachel?"
It was questioning this time, and I held up a hand, tasting the air as my eyes stung. Shit, I'd burned the name and gotten the charged water all over me. "I think I'm in trouble," I whispered, then jerked, feeling as if my skin was on fire. Yelping, I slapped at my clothes. Panic rose as an alien aura slipped through mine, soaking in to find my soul—and squeezing.
Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit. I'd invoked the curse. I was in so-o-o-o much trouble. But this didn't feel right; the curse burned! Demons were wimps. They always made their magic painless unless you did it wrong. Oh God. I'd done it wrong!
"Rachel?" Pierce touched my shoulder. I met his eyes, and then I doubled over, gasping.
"Rachel!" he cried, but I was trying to breathe. It was the dead person, the one whose name I'd scribed in my own blood. It hadn't been his aura in the bottle, but his soul. And now his soul wanted a new body. Mine. Son of a bitch, Al had lied to me. I knew I should have trusted my gut and questioned him. He said it was an aura, but it was a soul, and the soul in the bottle was pissed!
Mine, echoed in our joined thoughts. Gritting my teeth, I bent double and tapped a ley line. Newt had once tried to possess me, and I had burned her out with a rush of energy. I gasped when a scintillating stream of it poured in with the taste of burning tinfoil, but the presence in me chortled, welcoming the flood. Mine! the soul insisted in delight, and I felt my link to the line being severed. I stumbled, falling to kneel on the cold marble. It had taken control, cutting me out!
No! I thought, scrambling for the line in my mind only to find nothing to grasp. My chest hurt when my heart started to beat to a new, faster rhythm. What in hell was this thing! What sort of mind could make a soul this determined? I couldn't... stop it!
"Rachel!"
Eyes tearing, I blinked at Pierce, struggling to focus. "Get. It. Out of me!"
He spun, motions fast as he found the unburnt signature still on the table. There was a swallow of water left in the bowl. It had to be enough.
I am Rachel Morgan, I thought, teeth gritted as the soul rifled through my memories like some people shake old books for money. I live in a church with a vampire and a family of pixies. I fight the bad guys. And I will not let you have my body!
You can't stop me.
The thought was oily, hysteria set to discordant music. It hadn't been my thought, and I panicked. It was right, though. I was powerless to stop it, and as soon as it looked at everything and claimed what it wanted, I was going to be discarded.
"Get out!" I screamed, but its fingers reached into my heart and brain for more, and I groaned, feeling control over my body start to slip away. "Pierce, get it out of me!" I begged, doubled over on the cold black floor, silver etchings like threads under my cheek. Everything I didn't concentrate on was gone. The moment I lapsed, I would be too.
I smelled the scent of burnt paper, and the soft murmur of Latin. "Sunt qui discessum animi a corpore putent esse mortem," Pierce said, his hand shaking as he brushed the hair from my face. Beside him was the empty bowl. "Sunt erras."
"This is mine!" I cried gleefully, but it wasn't me screaming. It was the soul, who had found the knowledge that my blood could invoke demon magic and held it aloft like a jewel. I got in one clean gasp of air as it was distracted, and I opened my eyes. "Pierce...," I whispered desperately, for his attention, then choked when the soul realized I still had some control.
"Mine!" the soul snarled with my lips, and I backhanded Pierce across the cheek.
Oh God, I'd lost, and I felt myself pull my legs under me to crouch before the fire like an animal. I'd lost my body to a thousand-year-old soul! My lips curled back, and I grinned at Pierce's horror, even as I tried to claw my way back into control. But even my connection to the ley line belonged to it.
"Get away from her!" I heard Al exclaim, and with the sound of smacking flesh, Pierce slid backward against the tapestry. Al.
Hissing, I spun to him, crouched and hands turned to claws. It is a demon, echoed in my thoughts, and hatred bubbled up, a thousand years of hatred demanding revenge.
I jumped at him with a howl, and Al grabbed me by the neck. I clawed at him, and he casually thunked my head into the wall. Pain reverberated between my skull and reason, and in the haze, my reactions were faster than the alien soul's. I took control, grabbed the ley line, and threw a protection bubble about the soul within me. It was still dazed from the thunk on the head, and I had the upper hand. But for how long?
Eyes struggling to focus, I latched onto Al's hands around my throat. God, I was never so happy to see him. "Rachel?" he asked, an understandable question at this point.
"For a little bit longer, yeah, you son of a bitch," I panted, terrified as I felt the soul in me start to recover. "You told me it was an aura. It's a goddamned soul! You lied to me! You lied to me, Al! And it's... taking me over, you son of a bitch!"
His eyes narrowed as he looked across the room at Pierce. "I told you to watch her!"
"Accident," Pierce said as he untangled his legs. "She dropped a candle. The early scratchings burned, and she put it out with the water. The soul wasn't harnessed by invocation before escaping. I twisted the curse to get it out of her. I don't understand why it didn't work!"
Al let go of my neck and swung me into his arms, cradling me. "You're not a demon, runt," he said distantly, talking to Pierce as he peered into my eyes. "You can't hold a soul other than your own."
But Al thought I could? I took a breath as I stared at Al's red eyes, then another, feeling the soul in me begin to push against the protection circle, probing, looking for a way to regain control. I jerked when a slow flame started in my mind, burning, expanding. It howled against the inside of my skull, and my hands twitched. "Get it... out!" I forced past my clenched teeth. I couldn't fight forever.
Al's goat-slitted eyes showed a flash of panic, and I felt him sit down before the fire, right there on the floor. "Let me in, Rachel. Into your thoughts. You've got Krathion in there. I can separate him from you, but you have to let me in. Let go and stop fighting so I can come in!"
He wanted me to stop fighting? "He'll take over!" I panted, gripping his arm when a new wave of outrage spun through me. "He'll kill me! Al, this soul is crazy!"
Al shook his head. "I won't let you die. I've got too much invested in you." The look in his eyes scared me—it wasn't love, but it wasn't just the fear of losing an investment either. "Let me in!" he demanded as I clenched in pain. Shit, I was drooling. He didn't say trust me, but it was in his eyes.
Inside me, I felt the satisfaction of a steady progression of fire. I wasn't driven enough to survive this. Maybe after being imprisoned in limbo for a thousand years, but not right now. Either let Al in or the soul won. I had to trust him. "Okay," I breathed, and as Al's eyes widened, I stopped fighting.
The soul screamed in victory, and my body shuddered. And then... I was nowhere. I wasn't in the echoing blackness of the demon collective, and I wasn't in the spinning, humming strength of a ley line. I was... nowhere, and everywhere. Centered for the first time in my life, alone and utterly understanding it all. There was no hurry, no reason, and
I hung in a blissful state of no questions. Until one stirred in me. Was this where Kisten had gone?
I wondered suddenly, was Kist here? My dad? Was that his aftershave I smelled?
"Rachel?" someone called, and I gathered myself, trying to focus. "Dad?" I whispered, not believing it.
"Rachel!" The voice became louder, and I felt a sudden pain.
Coughing, I took a huge gasp of air, my hair in my mouth, my face. The world was upside down, but then I realized I was on my hands and knees, taking snatches of air between the dry heaves. The sour taste in my mouth fought with the stink of burnt amber pouring off me. My face hurt with each gut-wrenching clench, and I felt it carefully with shaky fingers. Someone had hit me. But I was here, alone in my body. The perverted soul was gone.
I looked up from Al's floor to see a pair of elegantly embroidered slippers. Sending my gaze higher, I found an androgynous robe with a martial arts look about it, and above that, Newt's mocking expression. The demon was bald again. Even her eyebrows were gone.
Her face wrinkled when she saw me looking at her. "Honestly, Al, you're going to have to do better," she said, her words long and drawn out. "You almost let her kill herself. Again."
Al? That must be whose hand is on my back.
"Rachel?" Al said again, close and intent. I recognized it from that in-between place I'd been in. His hand fell away, and I sat back to bring my legs to my chest. Forehead on my knees, I hid from everyone. "What's she doing here?" I muttered, meaning Newt. Cold, I shivered.
"It's her," he said, his relief clear as I heard him stand. "Thank you."
"Don't thank me. This wasn't free." The soft shush of her slippers was loud, but I didn't look. I was alive. I was alone in my mind. Al had been in there. No telling what he'd seen.
"I ought to file charges of uncommon stupidity against you for letting her try this alone," Newt said dryly, and I took a deep breath. Not out of it yet, apparently.
"She wouldn't have been alone if, to begin with, you'd given me a suitable soul," Al said, and I jumped when a blanket smelling of burnt amber fell across my shoulders. "Krathion? Are you insane? He was a lunatic!"
"One man's opinion," Newt said smugly, and I pulled my head up. "And what a typical male response," she added, glancing at me. "Blame everyone but yourself. You left Rachel in the middle of a highly sensitive curse. You could have brought her with you. Brought the bottle with you. But you left her alone. Face it, Al. You don't have the smarts to raise a child."
"You did this on purpose!" Al raged, sounding like a little kid calling foul. Newt looked smug, and Al turned away, frustrated.
Shaking, I tugged the blanket higher. They were my hands. My hands. Tears prickled when I looked at the small bottle on the table, green and swirling again. I wanted to laugh. Cry. Puke. Scream. "What's she doing here?" I asked again, my voice stronger.
"Krathion is insane," Al said. "It took two of us to get him back in the bottle."
I fingered the wool blanket, worried. I had a bad feeling that Newt had tried to kill me. "You were in my mind?" I asked her, fearful now.
Newt made a small sound of regret, stepping silently across the room. "No," she said petulantly as she stopped beside Pierce, slumped beside the empty tapestry. Even the moving figures made of weft and weave were afraid of her and had hidden. Pierce was nursing a swollen lip, and was sullen, even scared maybe. I was surprised to see him here at all.
"Al took teacher's prerogative," she said as she ran her fingers through his hair. Pierce stiffened, the tightening of his lips giving away his anger. "I merely put the soul back in the bottle once Al got it out of you. Gaily, if you can't demonstrate the ability to keep her alive, then I will take over her care and get you a dog instead."
My eyes widened. Fear got me to my feet, and I wobbled until I reached for the table for balance. "It was my fault, not Al's. I'm fine. Really. See? All better."
Al stiffened. "I didn't leave her alone. I left her in the care of my trusted familiar. The curse was invoked by accident. One you probably planned."
Trusted familiar? I looked at Pierce, knowing laughter would sound hysterical.
"Excuses, excuses," Newt drawled, clearly seeing through it. "He tried to save her life. I see it in his thoughts." She shifted a stray hair from Pierce to set it straight. "It was his skill that failed him, not his spirit. He was here. You were not." Smiling, she turned to Al. "Think on that before you kill him."
"Kill him?" Al blurted out. "Why would I kill him?"
Yeah, seeing as he was Al's trusted familiar, but when Newt looked at the to-go cups spilled on the black floor, Al stiffened. His gaze flicked to Pierce, then me, and there it stayed, scaring me. Al thought I had freed him. The coffee had come from somewhere, and I couldn't line jump.
"No more warnings, Al," Newt said, and both Al and I jerked our attention back to her. "Your mistakes are starting to have an impact on all of us. Another error, and I take her."
"You planned this. You gave me a bad soul. That curse couldn't contain Krathion, even if she had done it properly." Al seethed, but not a whisper of power edged his hands, telling me he knew better than to threaten Newt openly.
My skin prickled as the tension rose. Newt was crazy, but Al would lose. I didn't want to belong to her. Al and I had an agreement, but Newt would see only master and slave. "I'm fine. Really!" I insisted, swaying on my feet and feeling my elbow throb. I'd hit something. Hard. Al, maybe? I didn't remember it.
Lips curled up almost in a smile, Newt sniffed as if she smelled something rank. "I don't understand this loyalty. He's wasting your time, Rachel. You'll have precious little of it if you're not careful. You could be so much more, so much faster. Best hurry, before I remember something else and decide you're a threat."
With hardly a breath of air shifting the candle flames, she was gone. Al let out a huge sigh and turned to me. "You stupid bitch."
He moved, and I darted back, slipping on the black floor and going down. His hand swung where I had been, and I skittered back until I hit the hearth.
"You freed him! For a cup of coffee!" Al raged.
"I didn't!" I protested, tensing for the coming smack as he stood over me. Fight back? Yeah, there's a good idea. I'd take my licks. Then I'd take them out on Pierce later.
"Algaliarept!" Pierce shouted, and Al hesitated, the sound of his summoning name being enough to give him pause. But it was the pure ting of metal hitting the marble floor that made me jump, not the back of Al's hand, and I watched the band of charmed silver roll toward us, spinning in ever smaller circles at Al's feet.
"I don't need her to slip your leash, demon spawn," Pierce said darkly, and something in his voice twisted in me. It was threatening, decisive, and utterly unafraid. I went cold at the sight of Pierce, his feet spread wide, a flicker of black vanishing from his spread fingers as he made them into fists. His eyes promised violence.
"I've been free since the moment you caught me," he boasted, making it into a threat. "I'm here to keep her alive among the putrid stink of you all, not wash your dishes and twist your curses. A needed post, if you're passing off soul-stealing curses as an aura supplement."
God help me, I think I'm going to be sick. "I don't need a babysitter," I said.
Pierce looked at me, deadly serious. "I swan you do, Rachel," he said, and my eyes narrowed.
Al harrumphed. His hand, once poised to smack me, had turned and was now offered to help me up instead. "How long have you known he could slip his charmed silver?" he asked.
"Not until he just did it," I said truthfully as he yanked me up. He let me go, and I flicked my eyes to Pierce. "You need to stop underestimating him, Al," I said, not wanting to be caught between them again. "You're right. He's going to get me killed." My gaze went from Al to Pierce. "Through his own arrogance."
Pierce's eyebrows rose as he felt the sting of that, but I wouldn't drop his gaze, still angry. Al, though, couldn't have been happier. "Indeed," he almost growled, clearly hearing more in my
words than what I had said. "I think we've made enough progress for today, Rachel. Go home. Get some rest."
My lips parted, and my fingers fell from the blanket over my shoulders. I could not seem to stop shivering. "Now? I just got here. Uh, not that I'm complaining."
Al glanced at Pierce, looking as if he was mentally cracking his knuckles. Pierce was glaring right back, grim faced and determined. Idiot. As soon as I left, they were going to have a "demon to familiar chat." / wasn't going to be the one to clean up after it, though.
"Come along," Al said, taking my elbow and letting go when I hissed in pain.
"You're coming with me?" I questioned, and Al took my other, undamaged arm instead.
"If you're not here when I get back," the demon said to Pierce, "I will kill you. I may not be able to restrain you, but I can find you easily enough.
Yes?"
Pierce nodded, grim new lines showing on his face.
I opened my mouth to protest, but Al had reached out and tapped a line. In an instant, I dissolved to a thought and was pulled into the nearest ley line, ribbons of energy that strung like threads between reality and the ever-after. Instinctively I flung up a protective circle around my thoughts, but Al had beaten me to it.
Al? I questioned, surprised that he was with me since it more than doubled the cost.
I told you to do nothing. I come back and find you possessed? I had to ask Newt for help. Do you know how embarrassing that is? How long it will take me to pay that off?
Our minds were sharing space, and though I couldn't hear anything he didn't wanted me to, he couldn't hide his anger with me and his unexpected worry about Pierce. Al was getting a dose of my anger at the man, too. Maybe that was why Al was taking me home when he could just as easily have dumped me off in the church's graveyard. He wanted a peek at my emotions.
The memory of my lungs was aching, but I felt him twist something sideways, and I stumbled as we popped back into existence, the fog that had been here when I left even thicker now. The glow from the back porch was a hazy blob of yellow, and I pulled the damp, foggy spring night deep into me. Four hours, and I was home.
