by Kim Harrison
“You son of a bitch!” I said, lunging forward to catch her, my bare feet burning on the carpet squares as I struggled with her weight. “What in hell are you doing? Now it’s assault!”
The door beeped, and Nick barely got out of the way as Ivy yanked it open. “I say we return the favor and get the hell out of here,” she said as Jenks flew in, sword bared and his dust a dismal blue. Something bad had happened. Where is Jax?
I carefully lowered Marcie to the floor, rising up mad enough to plow my fist right between his smiling teeth as Nick backed out of Ivy’s easy reach. He was still Ku’Sox’s toy. I could tell. “What are you doing down here?” Nick said idly, his head tilted so he could eye a row of artifacts and me at the same time.
Jenks landed on Ivy’s shoulder, clearly distressed. “Can we just get out of here?”
But I didn’t have the rings yet, and at a loss, I shook my head.
Nick’s smile widened. “Don’t have what you came for?” he mocked, running a finger on a glass case to leave an obvious mark.
“You got Pierce and Ceri killed,” I accused. “How dare you smile at me.”
His smile vanished, but I couldn’t tell if his sudden contriteness was real or contrived. “I’m sorry about that. I didn’t know he was going to kill them.”
“He’s a psychotic demon!” I shouted, then lowered my voice when Jenks’s wings hummed a warning and he darted into the hall. “He doesn’t need a reason to kill people, just a reason not to. You are one dumb warlock,” I said with a sneer. “Ku’Sox is going to kill you, too.”
Nick chuckled, tugging his sleeves down to cover his cuffs. On Trent, it looked good; on him, it looked nervous. “Ku’Sox needs me.” Hands on his knees, he leaned over the case of rings. “Mmm. Riffletic rings? I understand they were pulled. Weren’t they the elven wedding bands? Seriously?” He straightened. “Better than chastity, I suppose.”
Ivy had inched closer, and seeing it, Nick shook his head, stopping her. He still belonged to Ku’Sox, and I didn’t want the demon showing up. If we were going to take Nick out, it would have to be fast. But I didn’t know if that really mattered anymore. My plan was royally flushed. Ku’Sox wasn’t stupid. Three seconds after Nick told him what we were after, he would have it figured out. Maybe I could make that work for me.
“Ku’Sox doesn’t need you,” I said caustically, and Nick looked up from the display as if I was being stupid. “Or maybe I should say he won’t. Thanks to Trent, those Rosewood babies don’t need your lame enzymes. The only reason he hasn’t eaten you yet is because you’re spying on me.”
Nick smiled as if giving a benediction. “As I said, he needs me.”
“Yeah? For how long?” I said. Clearly distressed, Jenks hovered just outside in the hall at the ceiling. He tapped his wrist like a watch. Ivy wasn’t close enough, though. “Maybe you haven’t noticed, but I’ve got an expiration date,” I added. “You’re going to be deadweight after tomorrow, whatever happens.”
Nick frowned, his fingers twitching.
“Didn’t think about that, did you, crap for brains?”
His head came up. “You know nothing.” He looked at Ivy. “Stop moving, vampire.”
Ivy rocked back. “Cut it short or bring him,” she said. “We have to go.”
“Bring him?” I barked, my chin lifting. Then I said to Nick, “There is no hole deep enough or dark enough to hide you when Ku’Sox decides he’s done with you and pulls your plug.”
Arms swinging, I headed for the door, figuring he’d get close enough to smack him if he thought I was leaving.
Sure enough, he reached for me, and I let him grab my arm. “We used to be good,” he said, eyes angry.
“Yeah? Well, I used to be stupid!”
Grabbing his wrist, I spun to put my back to his front, and levered him right over my shoulder. He hit the floor in front of me with a groan, and Ivy was there, her long arm against his neck even though he was out. Jenks flew in at the noise, hovering over us.
“When do you want him to wake up?” she said, and my lip curled.
Jenks’s dust was still that depressed blue. “How about never?” he suggested. There was a long tear in his new clothes. Jax?
“Ten minutes,” I said in disgust, and she let go, shoving him across the narrow walkway to slide into a lower cupboard.
“I like Jenks’s idea better,” she said as she got up.
“Yeah! What’s up, Rache?” Jenks snarled. “You know he doesn’t deserve it.”
I nodded as I turned back to the rings. “We all have a part to play,” I said as I looked over the selection. Time was pressing on me, making me jittery. It couldn’t be because Nick was helpless on the floor and I was walking away.
Ivy smelled of darkness and earth as she eased up beside me. “Anything you take he’ll know and tell Ku’Sox.”
“The ones I really wanted are gone, anyway,” I said, wishing I had my cheat sheet, then remembering Marcie had one. “Jenks, check Marcie’s sketch there. Who donated the demon slave rings?” Slave rings. This was a mistake. This was a mistake in a big way, but I had to take a huge leap if I was going to survive.
He whistled, his dust a shade brighter as he darted to the woman and leafed through her papers. “Ahh, Cabenoch.” He flew up, his dust settling on the velvet background to look like stars on a moonless light. “Cabenoch. That’s German, isn’t it?”
“It’s elvish,” I said, finding the rings I wanted. Something in me quivered seeing them there, plain circles of battered metal. They were both tarnished, but one looked as if it had been on a hand that had never seen dirt, and the other had never seen the sun. Slavers. That would work, though it curled my lip thinking about reinvoking them.
“Okay. It’s rigged, right?” I said, and Ivy carefully slid the entire box almost entirely off the table. Jenks darted under it, and from the door, Marcie groaned. We had maybe thirty seconds. I didn’t want to hit her again. “Jenks?” I prompted, and a wash of depressed blue bathed our feet.
“Standard stuff,” he said, not coming out. “I dusted you about ten seconds of electronic memory, so make it fast. Ready?”
I nodded, eyeing the rings I wanted and pulling the fake ones off my finger.
“I still don’t see how this is going to help,” Ivy griped. “He’s going to know the ones you took.”
“Just hold it still,” I muttered. “Ready, Jenks?”
“On my mark . . . go!” he said, and I opened the lid, feeling a pull of a magnetic field. Breath held, I grabbed the rings, slipping them both on my index finger as I dropped the fake rings in their place. Ivy’s eyes widened when I then moved the “donated by” card, then another.
“How long, Jenks?” I said. “Give me a count!”
“Four, three,” he said, me moving cards like a con artist on the corner. “Two,” he said, and I pulled my hands out, shutting the lid. “One!”
My eyes met Ivy’s, and she exhaled. Muscles easily managing the weight, she slid it back onto the table. Jenks flew up, and all three of us looked at the lumps of metal sitting in my hand. They felt as dead as they looked, but something in me quivered. I could bring them back to life. I could make this anew. Demon slavers. I shuddered.
“Can we go now?” Jenks said, his dust still that dismal blue, and I nodded, not looking back at Nick as I walked out the door.
Next time I had the chance, he wouldn’t be so lucky.
Chapter Twenty-Two
My protection circle hummed with the satisfyingly pure sound that I was identifying with the narrow ley line out back in the graveyard, the bell-like ting a spot of beauty in the chaos of sound and abrupt faults every other ley line was spitting out right now. Frustrated, I set the nested slave rings on my palm, and after Jenks’s somewhat unenthusiastic thumbs-up, I peeled my aura off my hand, leaving it bare to everything all the way to my wrist.
The steady, ringing snick, snick, snick of Ivy sharpening her second-best katana in the corner was a soothing rhythm,
but I still felt uneasy as I imagined the thinnest whisper of red aura spilling down my arm, mirroring the shadow of veins to puddle under the rings, rising to gently enfold it and breathe the first hints of life into the cold metal.
“Looking good, Rache.”
But it wasn’t good, and my heart pounded as I exhaled, empting my mind of everything but the rings. The red had taken, I could feel the cold metal resonating, and I shifted my aura to orange, pinpricks racing over my arms like goose bumps.
Jenks’s wings clattered, and my brow furrowed. The sliding sound of Ivy sharpening her blade hesitated, and I stiffened as the orange rose up and over the ring, completely unabsorbed. Take it, damn it! But I knew it wasn’t going to. I’d been trying all afternoon, and I had never gotten any further than this, and I didn’t know why.
“Damn it all to the Turn and back,” I muttered, letting the rings drop into my palm and lowering my hand. My full aura raced down my arm, and I shivered, feeling protected again. Jenks’s wings slumped, and I shoved the rings into my pocket like a guilty secret.
“If I hadn’t done it once, I would have said Pierce made it up,” I said sourly as Ivy held her gray length of steel up to the light. “And I don’t know why you’re sharpening that blade. It’s like bringing a knife to a gunfight.”
“It’s always good to have a backup plan,” she said mildly. “And before you say anything, just shut up about it. Jenks and I can keep whatever demons there are at bay while you and Quen do what you need to do.”
“I wasn’t going to say anything,” I said, and her easy motion on the blade hesitated.
“Mmm-hmm.” Her tone made it clear she knew I was lying. I’d feel better if they were here and out of harm’s way. It was going to be warmer tomorrow night but maybe too cold for Jenks. And Ivy was going to be more of a liability than an asset trying to defend herself against magic. There was a reason even the I.S. didn’t send vampires after a witch. I didn’t like Quen being out there with me either, but if anyone could help me, it would be him.
“Keep it simple and everything will be fine,” Jenks said, and I jumped when a thrown fishhook and line snagged the edge of the counter and Belle’s pale, scary face popped up. With an acrobatic flip, she levered herself up and away from the drafts to stand among Trent’s library books. I still had to get them back, and I wondered what kind of late fee I might be risking.
Keep it simple, I thought as I reached to tidy Trent’s books. Nothing about any of this had been simple. I’d been trying to get these stupid rings to reinvoke since getting back from the museum, all with no results. It was as if something was blocking me. Maybe because the sun was up? Slave rings were foul. Just the idea made me uneasy. And here I was, trying to reinvoke them. For a good reason, I kept telling myself, but did I really want to be the person who believed the end justified the means?
“It will work,” I said as I stacked Trent’s books with a thump, and the draft blew Belle’s spiderweb-like hair back. “You can’t lose with a vampire vanguard and a pixy backup.”
Ivy glared at me, and I gave her a questioning look until she darted her gaze to Jenks. He was slumped over again, his wings not moving. Damn it! That was supposed to have cheered him up, not remind him of his stupid son! I hadn’t known it at the time, but Jenks had found Jax in the back halls and thrashed him soundly so he wouldn’t raise the alarm. I was sure his son was okay, but Jenks was depressed.
“Jenks,” I pleaded, wiping my hands off on the apron and coming to sit kitty-corner to Ivy, Jenks standing between us. “I’m sorry about what happened with Jax. But I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t thankful. It was the difference between walking out of there and being carried.”
Jenks’s face was frozen in grief and guilt. “I hurt him,” he said bitterly. “I tore his wings to shreds. My own son. He won’t be able to fly for months, if ever again.” A dark pool of black dust spilled off the table for Rex to paw at. “He’s my son, even if he is blind, ignorant, and . . .”
His words cut off as his head drooped. Heartache clenched my chest, and I curved my hand around Jenks, wishing I was smaller so that I could give him a hug, and then maybe a shake. “He’s been misled,” I said softly, and Jenks angrily wiped his face, his hand glowing with a silver dust. “He’s your son, Jenks. Whatever happens.”
Clearly depressed, Jenks sat down where he was, his legs crossed and his head down. “I don’t think my son will be spying on us anymore. I scared him. I scared him into believing I’d kill him if he ever came home again.”
“Jenks . . .”
“I’m fine,” he said with such bile that I knew he wasn’t. Head coming up, he flew to the sill, standing beside the overturned water glass and looking out the window with his back to us as he gazed into his garden, shadowed in the coming sunset.
I exchanged a worried look with Ivy. I had no comfort for him, nothing to say.
“He will forgive you.”
It had been Ivy who spoke, and Jenks spun, the anger so thick on him that I was glad I hadn’t tried to make it better. “What do you know?” he snarled, his wings humming to a transparent brightness, but his feet were nailed to the sill.
Ivy didn’t look up, staring at the light glinting on the cool length of steel as she held it up. “I scared someone I loved like that,” she said softly. “I was young and stupid. The sex play got out of hand. I cut him deeply and wouldn’t stop. I ignored him when he told me no. I carved deeper when he begged me to stop.”
The sword dropped, and her head drooped to follow the steel in her hand. “I knew he could take more and that his pain was fleeting. I thought I had a right to correct his assessment of his abilities, but what I was doing was confusing his mental limits with his emotional ones. I was riding high on his fear, and I bled him within an inch of his life.”
Only now did she look at Jenks. “He forgave me. Eventually. Jax will, too.”
I shifted uneasily, guessing she was talking about Kisten. It sounded about right. Kisten could forgive anything, since he’d done terrible things himself. I thought about that, wondering if only those who did horrible things would ever be able to forgive me. This had to stop, I thought, feeling the bump of the rings in my pocket.
“Your son made a serious mistake,” Ivy said, and Jenks shuddered. “You beat him, told him he was making an error that was going to end his life, and you told him to walk away before you came back and finished the job. You saved his life. He will forgive you.”
Jenks blinked fast, looking like the nineteen-year-old that he was, with all the insecurities and inexperience that that came with. He wanted to believe. I could see it in his brilliantly green eyes. He took a breath to say something, then changed his mind.
I suddenly realized I had to leave. “Ah, I need to make a call,” I said, leaning down to slide my scrying mirror out from my cookbooks. “I’ll be in the garden,” I added, thinking Jenks might open up if I wasn’t around. God! We were a messed-up bunch.
“I’ll come with you,” Belle said, snaking down her rope. “Make s-s-sure the gargoyles-s-s leave you alone.”
I looked back as I left, seeing that Jenks had flown to Ivy’s monitor. His wings were drooping, and the dust spilling from him was making an oily pattern on the dark screen.
“I left him there, bleeding out. Ivy, he can’t fly.”
“Neither can Belle, and you can’t call her any less a warrior. You saved his life. And perhaps ours. I’m sorry that it was so costly.”
I thanked my lucky stars that neither of them said anything else until I grabbed my spring jacket and fled to the back porch. Standing in the cool breath of the coming sunset, I shoved my arms into the thin leather and glumly sat, Belle taking up a position two feet to my right where I probably wouldn’t squish her. I set my scrying mirror on my left. The squeak of the cat door was loud, and glowing eyes turned to us from the graveyard when the more mundane sound of the screen door hadn’t moved them.
Huddling into my coat, I waved at the gargoyles. I
wasn’t altogether comfortable out here with them looking at me, but I wanted to interfere with Jenks and Ivy even less. Besides, I really did want to talk to Al. The rings weren’t invoking. I knew I could do this since I’d done it before. I just needed the confidence of someone who could see what the hell I was doing with my aura. Jenks was good, but he couldn’t hear the lines like a demon.
Rex jumped into my lap, a spot of warmth that I buried my fingers in. The cold damp of the early evening soaked into me as I breathed in the coming night. Low clouds threatened more rain, and last year’s leaves rustled in the cold flower beds, mirroring my mood perfectly. Spring cleanup was slower this year now that Jenks was losing kids, going off in pairs and alone to find their way. How did my life get this complex so fast?
“Rachel,” Belle lisped as she stood beside me, bow unslung as she watched the gargoyles suspiciously, “do you think Jenks-s-s will find his strength of will again?”
“Yes, of course. He’s just having a bad day. He is the strongest person I know. Except for Ivy.” My fingers lightly touched Rex as the cat purred, and I wondered if I could beat someone I loved that badly, even if it was for the greater good.
“I often punished fledglings-s-s for risking the nest.”
“My mother grounded me a lot,” I said, thinking it hadn’t done me any harm. It hadn’t made me any smarter, either.
“Jenks-s-s shouldn’t be hard on himself,” Belle said firmly. “He’s a warrior.”
“Jenks is a gardener in a savage Eden,” I said, believing it. He was a savage gardener with a protective streak. Ivy was just as savage, just as protective, when push came to shove. And me? What was I? What choices would I make when the world hung poised on the arc of the pendulum and I was ready to send it in a new direction?
“You will call your demon now for advice?” Belle asked, and I followed her gaze to my scrying mirror.
“I don’t know,” I said, shifting my feet down a step. “He might not be healed enough.”
