by Kim Harrison
Still unsure, Ivy started to back up to the hallway and out of my life. “Stay on hallowed ground until I get back, okay?”
She knew the kitchen wasn’t hallowed ground. “You got it,” I said, turning to look out at the silent, damp garden. “And Ivy? I know what I said, but I will always be here to put you back together. If it should come to that.”
Her smile faltered as she stood in the threshold. “I know. Thank you.”
Head down, she turned away, the keys to Nina’s car jingling. Her footsteps were slow as she made her way through the dark to the front of the church. The boom of the door shook through me.
Arms wrapped around my middle, I smiled even as the tears threatened. This was good. This was very, very good. It had to be if it hurt this much.
Chapter Nineteen
“ Ms. Morgan! Why is your church the only one with gargoyles?” the woman on my front stoop was saying as I smiled and waved at the camera guy, waiting for the last pixy to come back in before I shut the door in their faces. “What a bitch!” the newscaster added as I bolted it, probably not aware that voices carried through the wall of the church well enough that we didn’t need an intercom.
A peephole would be nice, though, I thought as I put an ear to the door and listened to them pack up and head back to the news van. The camera guy was talking about going down the back street to get a shot of the graveyard and the gargoyles perched on the tombstones, but the woman was in too bad a mood to care about aesthetics. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to talk to them after they misaligned, misinformed, and generally blew everything out of proportion when it came to my life—but that I really didn’t care to speculate on local TV as to why every single gargoyle in the Cincinnati area was now perched on my church’s wall and in my graveyard.
Sighing, I headed back to the kitchen with pixies in my hair, wishing I’d taken the time to take my apron off before I’d answered the door. I was a mess from spell prep, bits of green stuff and ground herbs marking me. Pixy dust was everywhere, and the ugly red stain on my sleeve from the organic berries looked ominous. At least I wasn’t barefoot.
Boots clunking, I headed for the kitchen, my pixy escort going before me in swirls of cheerful color and noise. Though the night was warm, they were all back inside to avoid the gargoyles. I’d been spelling for hours, and I had to clean something before I could make anything new.
As I ran the water into my spell-grimed pots, Jenks flew in smelling like garden and sounding like wind chimes. Cutting a startling image, he landed on the center counter beside my drying charms. No longer in his usual gardener green, or even his alternate thief-black, skintight ensemble, he all but strutted a few steps, clearly liking the sound of the bells that Belle had sewn into the top of his new boots that she’d made to go with his new black jacket and pants.
Silver and ebony meshed in a sharply angular pattern that never seemed to repeat and, indeed, seemed to change with the light, making a mesmerizing pattern that would get anyone to stare even if Jenks didn’t look like a million bucks in it.
“You sure you don’t want me to harvest more of that yew?” Jenks asked as he came to stand on the spigot. “The gargoyles out there don’t bother me.”
I smiled and ran the now-warm water into the nested spell pots. “No. I’d rather wait. Friday sunrise is the equinox.”
Jenks nodded, jingling his bells when Rex padded in with Belle on her shoulders. “Je-e-enks-s-s-s,” she hissed, her angular features drawn up in annoyance. “I told you to take that off. Those are not fighting clothes-s-s.”
“It’s black, I’m wearing it,” he said, his wings blurring to invisibility. “I don’t have anything else to put on.”
That wasn’t entirely accurate, and I hid a smile and moved the graduated cylinders and mortar to the sink, piling them in the sudsy spell pots. Wringing out the saltwater-soaked rag, I began wiping down my spell-prep area, thinking it rather useless when half of Jenks’s brood was up there, dusting heavily.
“The tails-s-s are too long. If an enemy catches it, he will have you at a dis-s-sadvantage,” she said. “The buttons are too large. They glint in the light. The bells-s-s will give you away.”
I nodded, agreeing with her, and Jenks began to look worried. “I can muffle the bells,” he said, tugging the coat straight. “I like it, fairy woman! I’m wearing it!”
“Your vanity will be your death,” she hissed at him, and Jenks put his hands on his hips.
“Yeah?”
Scowling, Belle nudged Rex toward the door, but the fluffy yellow cat purred her way to me instead, coming to twine about my feet and beg for some attention. Seeing her intent, Belle slipped off, shaking her clothes straight and adjusting the bow across her back.
Jenks flew to the center counter where Belle couldn’t see him from the floor. “Are you sure all this is going to work?” he asked, looking over the assembled charms and spells.
“As long as I can keep your kids’ dust out of them,” I said, then bent down to pick Rex up. “Hi, sweetheart,” I crooned, trying to distract the cat from the pixies arguing over the gumdrop they had found left over from solstice cookie decorations. “I can’t pet you right now. I’m still cleaning the kitchen.”
Jenks rose up on a column of muddy gold. “Everyone out!” he shouted, and the handful of pixies in the rack whined their disappointment. “Go play in the belfry or something!” he added, and the complaints turned to delight. “We’re spending tonight inside!” he added when half of them darted out. “You hear me? I don’t want any of you out there pestering the gargoyles! They might squish you before they know you’re there. Jrixibell! You hear me?”
“Yes, Papa!” the little pixy moaned, then darted out, her dust a bright red of mischief.
“Thanks, Jenks,” I said with a long exhalation, then glanced out the window at the dark garden, the gargoyles’ eyes winking eerily. The older ones looked huge this close to the ground, wings as big as sails stretching in the shadows. No wonder Jenks had corralled his kids back inside for the night. Creeped out, I rinsed the ceramic spoons and set them aside to soak in my saltwater vat.
Rex, who had hid under the chair with wide eyes and flattened ears at the noise from the departing pixies, came out, meowing up at me for an early dinner. Jenks’s wings began to glow as he took to the air. “I don’t like leaving the lines this vulnerable, but Nick isn’t going to show with those gargoyles out there. They probably hate Ku’Sox more than you do.”
I made a sour face. The fact that my line was the only one on the US continent that wasn’t screaming probably had something to do with them being here, too.
“I don’t trust my kids,” Jenks said as he rose up, wings clattering and limbs stretching. “I’ll be on the steeple.”
“I’ll join you,” Belle said, resettling her bow. “I don’t trus-s-st your kids, either.”
Jenks hovered where he was, dust pooling under him. “You want a ride up there?”
Shocked, I stared. Belle, too, seemed taken aback at his offer. “Do you think you can handle my weight, little man?”
“Tink’s panties, yes.”
I watched, amazed as Jenks darted over, picked her up from behind by the waist, and rose, Belle hissing in delight. Wings humming, they flew into the hall, a line of descending silver stars marking their path.
“By the Goddess, you’re more maneuverable than I ever was,” I heard faintly, then even the sound of Jenks’s wings was gone.
“Huh,” I said softly, feeling good. “How about that?”
Smiling, I turned back to the sink. Past the blue curtains and Al’s chrysalis, the hunched shadows of gargoyles were thick among the tombstones, but I could imagine it a month from now with the early flowers blooming and pixies out there instead of in here. I hoped I was here to see it. I had gotten rid of most of the ifs, but it would only take one to bring it all crashing down. Please be okay, Bis.
Slowly the silence soaked in as I finished rinsing everything and set my spelling
supplies to dry. My smile faded, and the feeling of being watched pricked through me. There was nothing outside but the low rumbles of the gargoyles. But I knew Nick was out there somewhere—becoming frustrated.
The hair on the back of my neck rose, and even knowing Jenks was on the steeple, I felt as if I was being watched. The air was thick with the scent of vampires, evidence of Ivy and Nina, and nervous, I ran the tap to warm the water as I messed with the soap, head down as I tried to scrub the burnt amber stink out from under my fingernails.
Goose bumps rose, and I couldn’t say why. “Stop it, Rachel,” I whispered as I turned, shocked to see a young, thin vampire standing at my table.
Holy shit! I thought, panic icing through me, first that he might know what I was doing, and then because there was a undead vampire standing in my kitchen and I hadn’t heard him come in. “Who in hell are you?” I said, heart pounding. No wonder I’d felt as if I’d been being watched!
For an instant, I thought he looked like Kisten, the same blond hair falling about his eyes, and when he tossed his head, I almost forgot to breathe. But it wasn’t Kisten. This vampire’s face was thinner, younger, less worldly wise. His frame wasn’t nearly as bulky, giving him a bookish, intelligent mien. His black suit fit him perfectly, a dull white shirt, paisley ascot, and handkerchief finishing his polish. His shoes looked as if they’d never seen the dirt before today.
“I startled you,” he said, hands clasped innocently behind him, but I wasn’t fooled.
“Ivy isn’t here,” I said cautiously, thinking that word she was back got around fast. “I can give her a message.” And then you need to get your ass outta my kitchen, dirt nap. Talking to undead clients in the unsanctified back rooms was standard practice, but they usually knocked first. Damn, this one was old if he could get past Jenks and me without my even hearing him.
“A message will do,” the man said, and I moved to put space between us. I knew it made me look scared, but I wanted to be able to react if I needed to. Slowly his voice filtered through my memory. I recognized it from somewhere, or rather, I recognized how his voice pulled at me, the cadence both mesmerizing and soothing, unnervingly so. Suddenly I was a lot more concerned.
Breathing in my alarm, he moved, the silk of his suit rustling against itself as he tucked a foot behind the other, just the tip touching the floor. His eyes flashed black, and I froze. “I want Nina returned to me,” he said, and that fast, swirling madness entered his eyes.
Shit. “Felix,” I whispered, and he inclined his head, never taking his eyes off mine. This was Felix. He was out of his hole. I was looking at him, not a willing mouthpiece. Ivy had called him out by encouraging Nina to rebel, and he had come. Looking for her.
My fingers slipped from the stainless-steel counter. Felix moved. I got a gasp of air in, and he was on me, pushing me back until I found the wall beside the archway. His arm was under my throat, his breath was on my skin. Delicious tingles sparked through me, and I shoved them aside, refusing to let him take me this way.
“Where is Nina . . .” he began, and I pushed him off me.
He stumbled back, clearly shocked that he hadn’t bespelled me. I was shocked, too. The guy looked like he was eighteen. I didn’t sense any magic keeping him this way. He had died young.
“I’m only going to tell you one more time, Felix,” I said, trying to pull myself out of a defensive crouch. “I don’t care what you want, you will keep your hands off me. Got it?”
Oblivious to my threats, he licked his red lips, gaze darting over the ceiling. “She was here. I can smell her.” Eyes closing, he breathed deep, exhaling to fill the room with the sound of desire. “She has been willful. She needs . . . gentle correction.”
This time I had a bare instant of warning as his eyes met mine before he lunged. “Get off!” I shouted, tapping the line out back as one hand gripped my shoulder and the other twined in my hair. He jerked my head back to lay my neck bare. Energy sizzled as it raced from my chi, running down my hands and burning as it flowed through ever-smaller pathways until it found my palms. I cried out as it burst from me, arcing to him with a tiny pop of sound.
Snarling, he flung me away as it struck him. My back hit the wall, and I stumbled, falling into Ivy’s chair. Tossing the hair from my eyes, I scrambled to my feet, heart pounding. He stood a good eight feet back, almost to the sink. The imprint of my hand showed clearly on his jaw and neck, and he touched it gingerly.
“You said what you wanted. Get out,” I threatened, moving farther into the room so he could leave without getting any closer to me. Where in hell was Jenks? And what was it with the gargoyles letting this guy through? Apparently undead vampires weren’t on their watch list.
But Felix only tugged the sleeves of his suit coat down, clearly trying to calm himself. It wasn’t working. Ivy had been right. This guy was halfway off his rocker.
“Ivy put Nina up to this disobedience,” he said, voice smooth and persuasive, but I wasn’t buying it. “I need her. Directly. Tell me where she is, or I’ll take my needs from you.”
My eyes narrowed at the threat, but I was spared threatening him in turn when Jenks darted in, blade drawn. “Who the hairy-ass fairy are you?”
“You all need correction,” Felix said, and I swear he swallowed back his saliva. “Especially Ivy. I’ve heard about her, been warned she could satisfy me. Bring me to my knees.”
“I can bring you to your knees right now,” I whispered.
“Felix?” the pixy shrilled. “What’s the point of having gargoyles in the backyard if they let this crap through? Troll turds, I’m sorry, Rache.”
My eyes never left Felix’s. He was fast. Faster than Jenks. Still, was I a demon or not? “No need to apologize. Felix was just leaving. Weren’t you?”
“No.” Felix had lost his smile, his youthful features tight in anger that I might be able to stand up to him. It was starting to smell really good in here, but I could ignore it. Mostly. “Give me Nina and I’ll leave you alone for a time. She has it coming.”
How many times had I heard that? How many times did the abuser blame the abused?
“Ivy is trying to help you and Nina both,” I said, keeping my eyes away from the floor and the circle etched into the linoleum. If I could get him two steps closer, he’d be in it. “You are dangerously dependent on her. Let her go. It’s going to kill both of you.”
“Kill me!” he shouted, and Jenks’s wings clattered. Still, Felix remained outside the circle, pacing like a predator afraid to take the bait. “Nina is what is giving me life! She is mine to do what I want with. Mine. Ivy is hiding her. If you won’t give me Nina, restitution is mine to claim. Where is she?”
Fingers crooked into claws, he jumped at me again.
This guy is out of his friggin’ mind! I thought as I stood where I was, eyes screwing up against the impact. Jenks darted up and away, the ringing of his sword echoing through me, mixing with the unreal sound of Felix’s anguish.
My eyes flew open as his bone-crushing grip knocked us back into the wall again. Again I poured the line through him.
His fingers tightened as he screamed his frustration, and then he was gone, whirling in anger eight feet away, his black eyes pits. Blood dripped from his face just under his eye, mirrored on Jenks’s sword.
“I will have someone!” Felix shouted, and my lips parted as he crouched, preparing to jump me again. Is he trying to get me to kill him? I thought, shocked when a low sound of hatred rumbled forth, growing as he slid closer, dancing to music that maddened him. “I will have someone . . .”
“Felix, we’re trying to help!” I cried, then traced an informal circle about myself. Seeing it, Felix lunged, arm reaching. Instinct pushed me back, and my heel broke my circle even as it formed. I gasped, then stared, shocked as a shadow from the back living room flew into the kitchen, jerking Felix from me and spinning him into the corner by the fridge.
“Ohem!” a voice boomed from the short, stocky man somehow standing bet
ween us. “Find yourself!”
“Holy crap, it’s Cormel!” Jenks shrilled, and I fell back against the wall, hand on my throat as I realized it was Rynn Cormel, probably here to talk to Ivy.
“That one needs punishing!” Felix pointed at me, pacing back and forth before him, totally out of his mind. “She is mine. Mine!”
Rynn Cormel’s jaw was tight as he raised a hand. His felt cap lay on the floor, and his coat smelled of cashmere and vampire. “Let go of the thought of her, sir,” he said calmly, and I pulled myself straight, grimacing. I’d filled the air with my fear—I’d known better. Jenks, hovering at the ceiling with a bloody, bared sword, was tense enough for both of us.
“The demon witch encouraged my scion to defy me . . .” Felix’s voice was softer now, more calculating, scaring me.
Rynn Cormel shook his head, his Brooklyn accent sounding odd as he firmly said, “This is mine, not yours. I punish her, not you.”
No one was going to punish me, but I was smart enough not to say anything. My heart pounded, and I was glad Cormel was here. Felix was out of his mind.
Felix’s angry pacing slowed, and Cormel’s outstretched hand shifted to one of welcome. “You are in need, sir,” he said respectfully. “Distraught, and drunk on the sun. Let go of this idea and turn to a new one before my ward kills you. She’s not for you. She’s not for me. She is for Ivy.”
“Ivy . . .” Felix snarled, and I held my breath as Felix thought that over. His youthful face was twisted into an ugly mask of anguish and fear, his eyes black and showing a lack of control I’d expect from the newly undead, not one older than Cincinnati’s tunnels.
“I am drunk on the sun,” he said suddenly, his beautiful voice cracking. “Oh God.” He said the words with anguish, falling back against the counter as if having abruptly found himself. “What have I done? What . . .”
