The Outlaw Demon Wails th-6

by Ким Харрисон

  I licked my lips. "He put me in a cage," I said, trying to come up with a reason other than rescuing him. Trent got to his feet, the dinghy rocking until he steadied himself against the dock, whereupon Dali kicked him back to the bottom of the boat.

  "He's the perfect familiar for my student," Al interjected smoothly over my head, his grip on my arm telling me to shut up. "Easily hurt, stubborn, prone to biting, but basically harmless. One must learn to ride a pony before tackling the stallion. He owes Minias a favor. I could press the issue since the elf is voluntarily wearing her smut, but honestly, it's easier just to buy a mark." Al smiled with a delicious irony. "Maybe I'll offer to tell him about my new student. That ought to be worth something."

  I tensed as Newt's eyes narrowed. "You'll tell me again, if I forget?" Al nodded, and Newt's face grew ugly. "The elf doesn't owe Minias anything. I give his mark to you."

  Trent groaned and fell back, his hate-filled expression chilling me.

  Dali's brows rose. "I didn't know you could do that."

  Newt spun, making her robe unfurl. "He's my familiar, bought and paid for. I can claim anything of his. Even his life."

  Al cleared his throat nervously. "That's good to know," he said lightly. "Important safety tip. Rachel, write that down somewhere as lesson number one."

  Her lips pressed tightly, Newt pulled her attention from the false horizon and found me. Ice seemed to scum my skin, and I felt myself pale. I had everything I'd come for. I had rubbed out Newt's mark, or at least I would when I gave Al his name back. I had saved Trent—I thought. So why did every instinct tell me everything was about to hit the fan?

  "You will teach her?" Newt said to Al, looking at me with her black eyes.

  Al nodded and pulled me closer, and I let him. "As if she were my daughter."

  Newt dropped back a step, her hands clasped before her and her head bowed. She looked funny, and I got the feeling that something was being settled that I didn't understand. "You're a good teacher," Newt finally said when her head came up. "Ceri was very skilled."

  "I know. I miss her."

  Her head moved up and down, and then she turned to me. "When you're ready, come to me. Maybe by then I'll have my memory back and I'll know what in hell is going on."

  I clenched my hands so no one would see them tremble, but when I took a breath to answer her, she vanished.

  Dali's exhale was loud and strong. "I give Minias two days."

  Al's shoulders slumped. "He's used to evading her. I give him…seven." He shifted uneasily, looking at the sparkles in the surf. "Rachel, collect your elf. I'm tired and I want to wash the cell-stink off me." I didn't move and he gave me a shove in Trent's direction before turning to Dali. "I'm assuming the charge of uncommon stupidity will be dropped?"

  Dali smiled. "Yes, yes, take your student's familiar and get out. Are you going to remind Newt as you said you would?"

  Al smiled. "Every day until she kills him. Yes."

  Unsure, I looked at Trent gazing murderously at me, then Al. "Uh, Al?" I prompted.

  "Get your elf, itchy-witch," he said under his breath. "I want to get out of here before Newt remembers a rule or something and comes back."

  But Trent was looking at me like he wanted to jam a pen in my eye. Taking a shaky breath, I strode to him, falling into a crouch and extending a hand to help him out of the bobbing boat. A low sound rose from him. I stared at him, frozen, as he lunged at me.

  "Trent!" I managed before he got a grip on my throat. My back hit the dock, and he landed on me, pushing my air out. He was straddling me, his grip cutting off my air—and then he was gone and I could breathe again. I heard a thump, looking up to see that Al had backhanded him off of me.

  Trent slumped to the dock, a leg hanging off it and threatening to pull him into the water. Shocked, I stared as he curled into himself and retched over the side.

  "Lesson number two," Al said as he yanked me up with a white-gloved hand. "Never trust your familiar."

  "What in hell is wrong with you!" I shouted, glaring at Trent as I shook. "You can kill me later, but right now, I want to get out of here!"

  I reached out, and this time he did nothing when I pulled him to Al. I didn't know how to travel the lines, but I assumed Al would jump us, seeing as I had just saved his demon ass.

  "Thank you," I muttered, very conscious of Dali watching us with calculation.

  "Thank me later, itchy-witch," Al said nervously. "I'm popping you and your familiar back to your church, but I expect to see you in fifteen minutes in your ley line with your spelling supplies and a new stick of magnetic chalk. I need some time to, ah, rent a room somewhere."

  My eyes closed in a long blink. Al really was broke. Swell. "Can't we start this next week?" I asked, but it was too late, and I felt Trent's grip on me tighten as my body was torn apart by time, then melted back into existence. I was so tired, I could have cried.

  I didn't even feel dizzy when the stink of the ever-after vanished. The acidic scent of cut grass hit me, and wavering on my feet, I opened my eyes to the somber gray and green of my graveyard. Slowly I slumped. I was home.

  "Dad!" a tiny voice shrilled, and I jerked to find one of Jenks's kids staring at me. "She's back! And she's got Mr. Kalamack!"

  Blinking back the tears, I took a deep breath and turned to the church shining in the morning sun. It had to be later than that. I felt like I'd lived a lifetime. Seeing Trent at my feet, I reached to pull him up. "We're back," I said wearily, hauling on him. "Get up. Don't let Ceri see you on the ground like that." It was over. At least for now.

  Still on the ground, Trent yanked on my arm. I sucked in my breath and tried to land in a front fall, but he pulled me off balance and I landed on my side instead.

  "Trent—" I started, then yelped when he jerked me up, slamming my head into a tombstone. "Hey!" I shouted, then howled when he twisted my arm.

  Quicker than I could follow, he slammed my head into the stone again. My vision blurred as the pain swelled, and trying to figure out what the hell was going on, I stupidly did nothing when he wrapped an arm around my throat from behind and started squeezing.

  "Trent…," I managed to get out, then choked, feeling my face seem to bulge.

  "I won't let you do it!" came his voice snarling in my ear. "I'll kill you first!"

  Do what? I thought, struggling to breathe. I just saved his ass!

  Putting my heels to the ground, I shoved backward, but we only fell over. His grip loosened and I got a breath, and then his grip went tighter.

  "Demon kin!" Trent exclaimed, his voice raw and alien. "It was there in front of me, but I didn't believe it! My father…Damn him!"

  "Trenton!" Ceri's voice came faintly from over the graveyard as my consciousness started to slip. "Stop! Stop it!"

  I felt her fingers trying to wedge between Trent's grip and my skin, and I choked as it loosened again. I couldn't break his hold, and my oxygen-starved muscles were like wet paper.

  "She has to die," Trent said, his voice close and rasping in my ear. "I heard them. My father. My father mended her," he agonized, and his grip tightened. "She can start it up again! Not now! I won't let her!"

  His arm muscle bunched, and as pain struck through me, I heard my last breath gurgle.

  "Let go," Ceri pleaded, and I saw her dress. "Trent, stop it!"

  "They called her kin!" Trent shouted. "I watched her take a demon's name. She was summoned out under it!"

  "She's not a demon," Ceri demanded. "Let her go!" Her braid slapped me as she bent over us and tugged at his fingers. "Trenton, let her go! She saved Quen. She saved all of us. Let her go! She's not a demon!"

  His grip loosened, and as I gasped, retching almost, he shoved me away from him.

  I fell against the tombstone that he had hammered my head against, and I held it, fingers shaking as I pulled lungful after lungful of air into me, holding my neck and trying to find a way to breathe that didn't hurt. "She might not be a demon," Trent said from behind me, and
I turned. "But her children will be."

  I slumped back against the stone, feeling the blood drain from me. My children…

  Ceri was kneeling beside him, her hands on him as she felt for damage, ready to hold him back if he tried to finish the job. But all I could do was sit in the sun and stare. "What?" I rasped, and he laughed bitterly.

  "You're the only female witch my father fixed," he accused, taking the red ribbon from his neck and letting it fall to the ground. "Lee can't pass on the cure. It's in the mitochondria. You're the only one who could start it all up again. But I'll kill you first!"

  "Trenton, no!" Ceri exclaimed, but he was too weak to do anything.

  Staring at him, I felt my reality start to crumble. God, no. It was too much.

  "Trent," Ceri was saying, kneeling between us, trying to distract him. "She saved us. You have a cure waiting in your labs because of her. We can be whole again, Trent! Kill her, and you stain our beginning. You lose everything! Stop fighting them. It's killing us!"

  From under the mat of his hair, Trent seethed, his eyes trying to burn me where I sat. I felt dirty, unclean. Filthy.

  "Your father saved her because he was friends with her father," Ceri rushed. "He didn't know what it would do. It's not your fault. It's not her fault. But she gave you the way to make us whole today. Right now." Ceri hesitated, then added, "Perhaps we deserved what happened."

  Trent's attention tore from me, landing on Ceri. "You don't believe that."

  Ceri was blinking to keep from crying, but a tear slid down, making her all the more beautiful. "We can start again," she said. "So can they. The war almost destroyed both of us. Don't start it up again. Not when we finally have a chance to live. Trent. Listen to me."

  I shut my eyes. Why doesn't it go away?

  In a rush of sound, Ivy and Jenks arrived together, standing over us in shock while Ceri held Trent back from killing me.

  "Hi," I croaked, still holding my neck, and Ivy dropped to me.

  "What happened?" Ivy asked, and my chest clenched to an unbearable tightness. She didn't know. How could I tell her? "You're back," she added, checking me for damage. "Are you okay? Your mother said you went with Al at Eden Park. Damn it, Rachel, stop trying to fight everything by yourself!"

  I opened my eyes at the concern in her voice. I wondered whether I should just stay in the ever-after. At least there, I wouldn't be putting my friends in danger. Kin. Witches are kin to demons. Suddenly it was making a whole lot of sense. Demons had cursed elves into a slow slide of extinction. Had it been done in retaliation? Had the elves hit the demons first?

  "Rache, you okay?"

  No. I wasn't okay, but I couldn't seem to get my mouth to work to say the words. I wasn't a demon, but my children would be. Damn it! This wasn't fair.

  "Is it Trent?" Ivy said, her anger rounding on him, and I shook my head. "Get out of here, Kalamack, before I pound you into the ground!"

  Ceri's delicate form helped Trent up, and as they hunched into each other, she helped him hobble to the street gate. She turned once, the tears flowing freely from her anger-black eyes. "I'm sorry, Rachel. I-I…"

  I looked away, unable to bear it. I wasn't ever going to have kids now. Not with anyone. Never. Stupid-ass elf. Look what they did to me.

  "Rachel," Ivy said, forcing me to look at her. "Tell me what happened."

  She gave me a shake, and I stared at her, numb. Jenks was on her shoulder. He looked terrified, like he already knew. "Trent," I started, and tears spilled over. Wiping them angrily, I tried again. "Trent's dad…he…"

  Jenks took to the air and got in my face. "You're not a demon, Rachel!"

  I nodded, trying to focus on him. "I'm not," I said, choking on my words. "But my kids will be. Remember last year when I said witches and demons both started in the ever-after? I think the elves spelled the demons, magically stunting their kids and starting the witches, and when Trent's dad fixed me, he broke the genetic checks and balances they put in to keep the demons from having children. Witches are stunted demons, and now demons can come from witches again. From me."

  Ivy's hand fell from me, and I saw the horror in her quiet face.

  "I'm sorry," I whispered. "I didn't mean to screw up your life."

  Ivy sat back, stunned, and the sun blinded me. Tired beyond belief, I looked up to see Ceri helping Trent out of the garden.

  What in hell had it all been for?

  Thirty-four

  Blue and pink baby booties had replaced the bats hanging in the sanctuary, the store-bought garland draping from one end of the sanctuary to the other. A cutout of a stork stood on the coffee table, and Ivy's piano was covered in yellow and green paper tablecloths. The white cake on it was surrounded by pixies snitching frosting. That is, the ones who weren't clustered over Ceri, ooohing over the delicate pair of baby booties and lace collar that Matalina and her older daughters had made.

  The happy elf sat across from me in Ivy's chair, surrounded by pixies, wrapping paper, and gifts. She was nearly glowing, and it made me feel good. Outside, the falling rain brought darkness early, but in here, it was warm, comfortable, and full of the peace of companionship.

  One month pregnant is way too soon for a baby shower, I thought as I leaned into the cushions while Ceri read the card from my mother, the box on her lap suspiciously similar in size to a humidifier. But watching Ceri's delight, I knew it had been the right thing to do. We needed to celebrate the beginning of a life. The beginning of something.

  Ivy was to my left on the couch, crammed into the corner as if she didn't know her limits anymore. She'd been like that all week, hovering but hesitant, and it was driving me nuts. Her gift to Ceri had been the first one opened: an absolutely stunning lace christening dress of intricate beauty. Ivy had gone red at the fuss Ceri had made over it, and I was sure that Ivy had picked the delicate bit of feminine beauty out because she had given up the idea of ever having children herself. Though she never talked about it, I knew Ivy would rather remain childless than perpetuate her vampiric misery upon someone she loved, especially an innocent who was dependent on her for everything.

  I squished the crumbs of my cake up with a fork as my eyes drifted to the present Jenks and I had gone in on together, wondering what it said about us. I had bought a set of redwood building blocks, and Jenks had painted garden flowers and bugs on them to go along with the alphabet. He was working on another set for his children, determined they would all know how to read before spring.

  The pixies flew up in noisy delight when Ceri got the wrapping paper off and revealed a Dr. Dan's Misty Memories Humidifier with deluxe soothing atomizer built right in to "lull your baby to sleep on the most trying of nights." I was staying out of the way, but my mother went to kneel beside Ceri as the elf seriously unpacked the thermometer and burping cloths she had put in there with it.

  "Ceri, this is a lifesaver," my mom was saying as the young-looking elf lifted the green plastic monstrosity out. "Rachel was a fussy baby, but I would just put a bit of lilac into the little cup, and she would drop right off." She smiled at me, looking different with her new hairstyle. "And it's indispensable if your baby gets the croup. Robbie never got the croup, but Rachel, lord love a duck, she'd just about scare me to death every winter with her coughing."

  Hearing a story coming on, I picked up a few plates and stood. "Excuse me," I said, beating a tactful retreat into the kitchen as my mom started in on the story of my nearly suffocating. Ceri looked properly horrified, and I rolled my eyes to tell her it was mostly momma drama. Mostly.

  I glanced back at the scene of content femininity as the dark confines of the hall took me. My mother had gifted Ceri's baby with a wish for health, Matalina gave the trappings of security, Ivy imparted beauty and innocence, and Jenks and I gave wisdom. Or maybe entertainment.

  The kitchen held a cool quietness, and I glanced out at the graveyard and let my vision drift into my second sight to make sure Al wasn't waiting for me. The red-smeared sky of the ever-after mi
ngled with the reality of gray clouds to make an ugly picture, and I shivered though the line was empty. He said he would call first, but I didn't trust him not to just show up and scare the crap out of everyone. Apparently Newt's claim that he had made himself destitute was right, because he said he wasn't going to bring me over until he had a kitchen that wouldn't embarrass him. I wanted my name back and that mark on my foot removed, and I think he was stalling, not wanting to lose that hold on me.

  "That was a lovely shower," my mom said from the hallway, and I jumped, startled.

  "Holy crap, Mom!" I exclaimed, dropping my second sight and turning. "You're worse than Ivy."

  She smiled, a glint of devilry in her as she sashayed in, cake-strewn plates and silverware in hand. "Thank you for inviting me. I don't get to go to too many of these things."

  Hearing an accusation in there, I plugged the sink and ran some water. "Mom," I said tiredly as I pulled out the soap, "I'm not having any kids. I'm sorry. You'll be lucky if you even get a wedding out of me."

  My mother made a rude sound, part laugh, part wise-old-woman scoffing. "I'm sure you feel that way now," she said as she dropped the forks into the sink. "But you're young. Give it some time. You might feel differently after you've met the right man."

  I turned the water off, breathing deeply of the lemon-scented air and slipping my hands into the warm water and washing the forks. I wished she'd drop the facade of what she wanted for what was real. "Mom," I said, voice low, "my children will be stolen by demons for the ability to kindle their magic. I'm not going to risk that." Well, actually, they would be demons, thanks to Trent's dad, but there was no reason to tell her that. "I'm not going to have kids," I said, slowly washing the plates.

  "Rachel…," my mom protested, but I shook my head, adamant.

  "Kisten died because of me. Nick went over the bridge. I've got a standing date in the ever-after once a week once Al gets his act together. I'm not a good candidate for a girlfriend. Can you see me as a mother?"

  My mother smiled. "Yes. I can, and you would be a good one."