by Kim Harrison
“Landon wants Trent dead and you responsible for it,” he said, his gaze fixed on mine. “But as I said, he’s compromised. Zack, though next in line, is underage, and while we will give on certain matters, such as if a pixy lives or dies, we can’t give him sway in political matters.”
“If Jenks suffers under your care, you will suffer under mine,” I intoned, and Trent exhaled as if annoyed, his fingers tightening on my arm.
“You mentioned the curse to move souls,” Trent prompted, and my jaw clenched.
Sure, now you’re all political businessman. What happened to my vengeful warlord elf?
Benny’s brow pinched to make the tiny wrinkles on his forehead deepen. “Ah, can we have a moment?” he said to his security.
“Sir,” the large man said. It was the first time he’d spoken, and his voice was surprisingly deep, mesmerizing with its elven lilt and cadence. Almost like music.
“I’ll be fine,” Benny said. Lips pressed, Benny turned to me. “Will I be fine?”
I nodded guardedly, and Trent gave me an encouraging smile. See? I can do political, too.
The large man hesitated, then stepped into the hall and shut the door.
Benny’s soft shoes scuffed the cold cobbles. The champagne was making inroads via the mortar lines, and the scent of alcohol was strong. “I wish you hadn’t destroyed so many,” he said, eyes on the broken glass. “They aren’t cheap.”
“Neither is Jenks,” I said.
Benny’s lip twitched. “Jenks said Landon taught you the curse to move souls from one body to another,” he whispered, clearly nervous. “It’s the dewar’s most precious knowledge. Everything else is written down, but that one, because of its nature, has been passed by word and deed.”
Its nature. I grimaced. It was black magic, foul and immoral. If they got caught with it, someone would be jailed in Alcatraz.
“I’ll let you both out and quiet the assault charges if you agree to pull Landon’s soul from his body and put it into a newborn,” Benny added. “Before the Order turns him into a zombie.”
And with that, everything changed.
Horrified, I drew back. “You still use that curse?” I said, appalled.
“Why?” Trent said shortly, and Benny’s attention flicked to him.
“Landon’s soul is almost gone,” Benny said uncomfortably. “But it will regenerate. If the baku takes him, all his latent wisdom will go with it. His soul lineage stretches back nearly a thousand years. We already lost his predecessor’s soul when he committed suicide. We can’t afford to lose another. But more important, if you perform the ceremony, Zack will have the knowledge.”
“Ceremony? It’s black magic,” I said hotly. “We’re not going to show Zack how to do an ancient elven black curse. I won’t do it.”
Benny hunched into himself. “I’m told it’s a spell, and what is the difference between this and what you did for your vampire roommate?”
“Ivy and Nina?” I said, insulted that he’d bring them up. “Nina was dead,” I said hotly. “Ivy is holding her soul, not moving in and destroying it. It’s not the same thing.”
They would let us go, but the cost was morally too high. Elves are just the other side to the demon coin, I thought, not for the first time. “You do know that the curse destroys the original soul, right?” I said, words fast and angry. “The one that belongs to the baby?” I turned to Trent, my lips parting when I realized he was trying to balance the scales of morality. “No!” I said loudly. “I may be a demon, but the only way I can sleep at night is if I say no when no needs to be said!”
Silent, Trent scrubbed his face with a hand. Suddenly I realized that if he did this, his pull with the dewar would be restored. Damn it to the Turn and back. Why did it always have to be the hard way?
“Landon has compromised himself with his continued association with the baku,” Benny continued, talking now to Trent since he hadn’t said no yet. “The baku has eaten Landon’s soul to where he can be taken at will. The only reason it hasn’t is because it wants you dead as well, thereby increasing its political reach once it is in Landon. If the Order doesn’t cage the baku in Rachel, they will cage it in him. We can avoid both if you relocate Landon’s soul to a new vessel.”
“Do you even hear yourself?” I said, one hand on my hip, the other gesturing wildly. “Relocate? Vessel? You are destroying a baby’s soul. Even demons don’t do that!”
Benny’s eye twitched and he steadied himself. “If you rescue Landon’s soul, the Order will turn his empty body into a zombie to capture the baku. Landon will be free to be reborn. Rachel will not be forced to become a zombie. Everyone wins.”
I looked at Trent. Benny had it wrong. A body without a soul couldn’t hold the baku. Hodin had said so, and he would know. “Everyone wins?” I echoed, not seeing the point in correcting him. “What about the baby you’re shoving Landon’s decrepit soul into?” I added, not caring if the security guard could hear. Maybe he needed to know how morally bankrupt the man signing his paycheck was. Maybe he already knows and doesn’t care. “The baby’s soul is crushed. It is a baby!”
Benny turned to me, a sliver of backbone in him from Trent’s continued silence. “This is our tradition. And why your pixy is even alive.”
My expression went slack as I figured out what that meant. “Zack?” I said, horrified. “You did this to Zack? Is that why you’re listening to him? Because you think he’s got some elven old-man soul in him? Is Zack here?” I said, looking at the closed door. “Ask him. I bet he’d say let Landon flap in the wind. You should listen to him. He’s smarter than all of you combined. He saw the damage the baku was doing, and none of you did anything about it.”
“To my point,” Benny said grimly. “Zachariah was one of our most canny leaders. He will be again.”
Zack. Zachariah. My God, they didn’t even let them keep their names. Just pasted the old atop the new. Maybe Al was right. Maybe elves were worse monsters when push came to shove.
Benny saw my horror and accepted it, chin high. “If you don’t do this, our only option is to let Landon have his way. Once the baku is trapped in you, Landon might be able to be reasoned with. That’s a choice your morals will have to make. Move his soul and sacrifice a newborn’s, or sacrifice your lives, knowing Landon will eventually give the order himself to move his soul.”
“No,” I said. “I don’t care if it’s tradition. I don’t care if my refusal only puts it off for a few more decades. I’m not going to pluck Landon’s soul out and drop it into a baby like a rechargeable battery.”
“Rachel . . .” Trent put an arm around my waist. Which was probably a good thing, seeing as if he had taken my arm to restrain me, I might have smacked him.
I pulled away, disgusted. Why was he even entertaining the thought? Had he learned nothing? Was he still the same man who had coldly killed his lead geneticist to keep his secrets?
But then his lips twitched and his eyes went to the rafters and the faint glow of pixy dust.
“You hold him down,” Trent said, eyes shining. “And I’ll punch him.”
CHAPTER
33
Benny’s mouth dropped open. “Nash!” he shouted, backing up fast.
No magic. I reached for a line and found nothing, cut off by the band of charmed silver. “I got this,” I said grimly as I pushed past Trent, hands in fists as I shifted my balance to start a front kick.
Jenks took off from the rack, dust sparkling. Benny’s eyes went to him. Terrified by the two-inch sword, he flung himself away—slipping on the wet cobble to fall backward. Benny’s head hit the wall with a dull whap. His eyes closed, and he slumped into a crumpled heap.
“That was easy,” Trent said, and I spun to the door. It was opening.
Nash, the guard, was going to be a lot more difficult.
“Relax, Rache,” Jenks said from ato
p Trent’s shoulder. “We got a man on the inside.”
Zack? I thought, but it wasn’t Zack who pushed the door open.
Crap on toast, the guy looked even bigger now that I was going to have to fight him, and I retreated, making room to work. Trent moved to my side, his expression promising hurt. We’d have to be really fast, be really lucky, and, above all, stay out of his reach.
The large man looked at Benny slumped on the floor, his chest moving slowly as he breathed. Nash’s sharp gaze rose to mine. His hands flickered with a faint haze of magic, and then it vanished. “I never liked him anyway,” he said, voice low.
And then Nash was shoved aside as Zack spilled into the room, smelling of cinnamon and wine, excited and animated. “Quick! We’ve got a small window while the old guys decide whether to side with Landon or Benny. I downed everyone between here and the door with a sleep charm.”
“Your magic is working?” I said as I realigned my thinking. Nash is on our side. Zack is here. Jenks is leaking dust from a bent wing but flying. The door is open.
The kid grinned and looked at his hands. They were both bandaged, each carefully wrapped around the base of the thumb, where the fate line ran. “After I made a sacrifice of blood to the Goddess to recognize her demon heritage. Yep. I’m good as gold.”
Trent put a hand to the small of my back to encourage me to the door. The stairway was dimly lit by the occasional light, and the steps were cut stone. “My magic is working and I didn’t make a sacrifice,” he said as we filed into the cramped stairway: Zack first, Trent and me second, and Nash bringing up the rear, carefully shutting but not locking the door.
Jenks snickered from my shoulder. “You’re bumping uglies with her favorite godchild.”
“Oh!” Eyes bright, Zack paused on the stairs, fumbling in his back pocket to hand Trent a pair of clippers. “I stole them from the armory. They should cut right through.”
I glanced back at Nash, not sure why he was helping us. The stairs were cramped, and our shoulders jostled as Trent wedged the clippers over my band of charmed silver and, with a soft and certain thump, cut it. I reached for a line, sighing as it flooded in to ease my slight headache.
“You next,” I said as I tucked the band in a pocket and took the clippers. Trent’s brow smoothed as I cut his bracelet in turn, the silver breaking with surprising give.
I went to tuck the clippers into my back pocket with the broken band, starting when Nash stuck his big hand between us. “It belongs to the armory,” he said, low voice rumbling, and I handed them over.
The stairs began to widen, and I twined my fingers in Trent’s when Zack motioned us to hang back. A shiver of sensation rippled up through me as our eyes met. The patch of hall visible at the top of the stairs was lit from lights, not sunlight, but clearly the curse was still in force. For now.
Not that it matters, I thought with a flash of anger. I wasn’t going to risk an untried curse on the baku if I didn’t need to. And I didn’t need to. I only had to stay awake until the baku gave up on killing Trent and took Landon over and the Order turned him into a zombie.
My fingers in Trent’s spasmed at the flash of guilt. Misunderstanding, Trent gave them a squeeze and smiled. “I’ll take care of the assault charges,” he whispered as if this was going to blow over. But assault charges from Dan and Wendy were the last thing on my mind. It wouldn’t be over until the Order had the baku . . . and Landon with it.
My guilt shifted to a nagging thorn of responsibility. Son of a bastard . . . what the hell is wrong with me? I should’ve taken Trent up on that island in the South Seas three years ago.
“It’s clear,” Zack said from the top of the stair. “Just cross the sanctuary and out the front door. Jenks, you want to go first?”
“On it.” Jenks rose up. Dust spilled from his bent wing, but he looked otherwise okay as he darted out of the stairway. The sanctuary was as big as a gymnasium, the walls distressed plaster painted a soothing blue. There were no pews, no altar, though it was obvious where it had been. It was a meeting space now, for wedding receptions, and my eyes rose to the enormous chandeliers glowing with reduced power to barely light the space.
Zack ventured out, his youthful, gangly body looking awkward. I was next, but I hesitated when Trent faced Nash.
“Why?” was all he said, and I hung back, waiting for the answer.
Nash grimaced, his eyes tracking Zack’s progress across the huge sanctuary. “I know what Benny asked you to do,” he said, voice rumbling like distant summer thunder. “I don’t agree with it. And I don’t have to support it. Zack . . .” His eyes went to the far end of the sanctuary where Zack was waiting by the door, clearly wondering why we hadn’t moved. “He can’t help what they did to him, but he wants it to end. Landon would have it go on forever. But the reason I’m risking everything is because of what you did.”
He was talking to Trent, and curious, I turned from watching Jenks arrow back to us.
“I’ve heard what Landon is saying about you and . . . Rachel,” Nash continued, making me wonder if he had been going to say your demon. “But you were at the hospital the day my brother died. I know you don’t remember it, but he had the demon curse on him really bad, like some do. You tried to help him when no one else would. And now my son is growing up strong. He doesn’t have to endure what I did. He’s named after my brother.”
My lips parted at the heartache in Trent’s eyes as he touched the big man’s shoulder.
“What are you guys waiting for?” Jenks griped as he landed exhausted on my shoulder. “God to say go?”
“I can’t leave yet,” I said, and Trent jerked to a stop, his motion to break into a jog shifting almost comically fast. “Landon has my stuff.”
Trent’s lips quirked. “I’ll buy you a new stick of magnetic chalk.”
“He’s got my soul bottle,” I added, beckoning to Zack across the huge sanctuary.
“She’s right,” Trent said when Zack started back in a soft-footed run. “Landon can use it to target a noncontact spell to her.”
“And Hodin’s ring,” I added when Zack slid to a breathless halt, a question heavy in his eyes. “If he accidently called Hodin . . . or, worse, intentionally?”
Trent turned to Zack. “You’ve done enough. You too, Nash. Make yourselves scarce.”
“What? What’s going on?” Zack asked.
“We have to get Hodin’s ring and that bottle back,” Jenks said from my shoulder.
“But they’re going to wake up,” Zack said. “We don’t have time.”
“Which is why you’re going to hightail it out of here,” I said. “Trent and I will get my stuff, and if we’re lucky, Landon will still be in his rooms and I can pound him.”
But Zack shook his head, arms over his chest to become virtually unmovable. “Landon wouldn’t keep them there. If they were that important, he’d put them in the undercroft.”
“The what?” Jenks asked for both of us.
“The vault,” Zack whispered, turning to beckon us deeper into the back rooms of the sanctuary. “It’s a hidden room under the church. That’s where they put all the good stuff they moved with me. Let’s go!”
I looked at Trent, and he looked at me. Shrugging, Trent rocked into motion.
“How do you know about the undercroft?” Nash said, clearly shocked as he followed us.
“Homework,” Zack called over his shoulder.
But my unease grew as I followed Zack through the sanctuary’s back rooms full of folding chairs, tables, and stacked linens. There were too many of us. We’re making too much noise, I thought, jerking when I saw a booted foot poking out from behind a corner. Another slumped body lay behind a row of stacked folding tables. Zack’s work? I thought, remembering the sophisticated spells he’d thrown at me, failing only because the Goddess hadn’t been listening. She was now, apparently.
&
nbsp; “Just tell us where it is,” I said when Zack stopped before a misshapen door that looked as if it belonged to the fifties. It was caked with paint and had old metal hinges. A dented brass knob handle spun when Zack tried to open it. It might have led to a broom closet or a tiny ugly bathroom, but Zack persisted, spinning the door handle to no effect.
“I know this is it,” Zack said, ears turning red as he tried spinning it the other way.
“Too late.” Jenks rose up, bent wing rasping. “Someone found us.”
“I got it,” Trent said, and my breath came in fast when he pulled heavy on a ley line.
“Watch your control!” I almost hissed as he paced forward, chin high, stance confident. But then the trio of hapless office workers saw him, and an almost comical panic spread among them.
“Entrono voulden,” Trent said, his hand glowing with power as he gestured at them. A thread of energy pulled through me, and my breath caught at the wash of power spilling from Trent. His bright glow of power circled the terrified trio twice to bunch them into a tight bundle . . . and then swamped them.
Their faces went slack, and all three dropped into an untidy pile.
“Nice,” I said, then lurched forward to help drag them out of sight. “When did you learn that?”
Trent grinned at me. His hair was tousled and his eyes sparkling. Feeling plinked down to my groin. He was everything I could ever want. Too bad Ellasbeth thought the same way. “It’s my mom’s,” he said. “I’m hoping I find more of her work in her lab.” His expression faltered. “Now that it’s open.”
“Guys!” Zack called, his hushed voice intent. “You got any ideas? It’s magically locked.”
I gave the three slumbering people a last look. It wasn’t fair that they had such an even, predictable life when it was all I could do to keep mine from exploding every three months. “Have you tried quis custodiet ipsos custodes?” I said as Trent and I rejoined them, and then my gaze dropped to the door at the soft click.
