A Perfect Blood With Bonus Material

by Kim Harrison

  “Go! Go!” I shouted as the two women shrieked and Gerald stood in his underwear in openmouthed awe. The files were burning, the toilet paper was char, and smoke was coming from Chris’s precious machine. We had three seconds to get by them, tops.

  Winona lurched into motion, apparently as shocked as I was at what she’d done, and she scuttled out past the cots, her hooves clacking merrily.

  “My research!” Chris screamed, her complexion red in the light from the flames as she reached for it. “Get my notes. No, get them!” she cried out, pointing at us as we ran for the darkness, but all Jennifer did was sit on her bed and wail, her hair mussed and her chest heaving, scared to death.

  Gerald lumbered to his feet with a small rifle in his grip. Winona made a horrified squeal and ran for the dark as he lurched over Jennifer’s cot and came at me.

  My anger bubbled up, and I swung my pole like a golf club, connecting with his chin as he reached out. His head snapped back, and his eyes rolled up as blood splattered.

  Like a downed tree, Gerald fell back on Jennifer, and her screams took on a shrill, panicked sound as he pinned her. Chris had finally gotten out of her sleeping bag and was at the rack of books, trying to pull them off the shelves and stomp out the individual fires. She didn’t even look up, and I heard her cry out in pain as she touched her demon book and it burned her hand. It wasn’t on fire, but it was hot enough to give first-degree burns.

  “Rachel!” Winona cried from the darkness, and I bolted. I didn’t like leaving the lab book I’d wanted burning with the rest, but getting away would be victory enough.

  Winona was a whip-tailed shadow ahead of me as I ran. Behind us, Chris was screaming and Jennifer was crying. Gerald was apparently okay since he was the one Chris was yelling at, and I heard a crash as he started to follow.

  “Low pipe,” Winona warned, not even breathing hard, and I ducked, almost hitting it.

  It was only by the sound of her feet that I knew where she was. Behind us, I heard a dull, clanging thwap and Gerald’s bellow of pain. I couldn’t help my grin, even as I gripped my pipe tighter. If Eloy was anywhere nearby, or Chris thought to call him, we’d be in trouble as soon as we got out, but right now, we were free, and it felt good.

  I dashed around the last of the junk, my eyes adjusting to the dim light. Feet skidding on the dust, I slid to a halt in the washroom. Winona was already on the crate, trying to pull herself up through the window. She was decidedly too heavy now for her arms to lift her body weight. The cool night air was spilling in around my ankles, and my heart pounded. Gerald was coming. I could hear him. I’d hit him good. He was going to be pissed.

  “I’ll boost you out,” I said as I propped up my pole and scrambled up beside her. “Then you reach back in and pull me out, okay?”

  “Rachel,” she started, but I bent to grab her around her thick thighs. My cheek pressed into her fuzzy red pelt and I held my breath as I lifted her. My God, she was heavy, and she gasped, her weight shifting wildly as she wiggled her way out of the window.

  “Watch it!” I gasped as her hoof found my shoulder. Finally her weight vanished, and I spun when an alarm went off in the building above us. A second later, I jumped at the groaning clank of air in the sprinkler system as it hissed on, drenching me.

  “Corr bitch!” Gerald threatened as he slid into the shower area, almost going down in the sudden slick mud made from the dust. His arms pinwheeled, and he caught himself. Blood dripped from his chin where I’d hit him, and his posture was hunched like a bear’s. That squirrel rifle was still in his grip, and he was pissed, head lowered and glowering at me.

  Scared, I spun to put the wall to my back, the window behind my head. Instinct made me reach for a line . . . and I found nothing. Anger at my own past ignorance pushed away my fear, and I squinted at Gerald, the salt from my sweat making my eyes sting.

  The sprinklers had drenched us both, and rivulets ran down him, plastering his hair to his face and washing away his blood. My chest clenched when he slyly propped his gun to the side and carefully reached for my pole, his eyes never leaving mine.

  “Shooting you is too easy,” he said as he took one end up and dragged the other across the tile, bumping and scraping slowly. “I owe you some payback.”

  “Yeah, well, you put me in a cage,” I whispered. Block the first blow. Break my arm. Save my skull, I thought, readying myself for a whole lot of pain. This guy was 250 pounds, bare minimum, and all of it wanted to hurt me.

  The soft scrape on the window gave me an instant to prepare, and then Winona leaned in, shouting, “Consimilis, calefacio! You ass!”

  Gerald stared at her, behind me, as she grasped my shoulders and tried to pull me up and out, and then he shrieked, patting his clothes as they steamed. The curse wouldn’t work on anything with an aura, but apparently it worked on the water he was soaked in. She was boiling him from the outside in. Her control was improving, thank God, or I’d be boiling, too.

  My heart raced, and turning my back on him as he danced and slapped at himself, I locked my arms with Winona, and she pulled me up and out. Halfway through, we fell back, and I landed on that foundation shrub, my feet still dangling inside. My eyes widened when Gerald grabbed my legs and began pulling me back in.

  Looking determined, Winona tugged back, and frantic, I kicked wildly. He cried out a muffled oath as I hit something, and when he let go, I pulled my feet out, turned, and panted, dripping wet and dirty as I stared at the tiny basement window. Gerald was probably too big to fit, but that rifle of his wasn’t.

  “Thank you,” I said as I scrambled up. Grabbing her hand, I ran for the woods, letting go almost immediately. Damn, the woman could move! In the time I took to go ten yards, she was halfway across the field. “Go!” I said, waving her on, and she slowed to a jog, waiting for me to catch up. “Go!” I said again, thinking of Eloy. He was out here. I knew it.

  “He’s trying to get out!” Winona shouted, and I ran faster. “I can hear him swearing.”

  “Yeah?” I said between huffs, then looked to the distant, glowing city. Fire trucks?

  I finally caught up with her when we hit the tree line, and we stopped, turning to look down the winding road and toward the sirens. The fire alarm at the observatory must be tied in to the city system, and they were coming out, lights flashing. The easiest way to be rescued would be to wait here, flag them down, and tell them to call Glenn at the FIB. But as I looked at Winona with her gray skin, curly red pelt, hooves, wildly whipping tail, horns, huge canines, and undeniable demonic appearance, I decided it might not be the safest. Besides, Eloy was out here. He could pick us off as we sat in the squad car.

  “Rachel, I’m scared.”

  “It’s okay,” I said as I held her elbows and looked her in the face. Damn it, she was crying. She’d done so well, and she was crying because of what they’d done to her and what people would think she was. I was the demon here, not her. “Winona, you’re like the bravest person I’ve ever met,” I said, thinking my own worries looked petty compared to hers. “Come on. We’ll run until we find a place for you to stay while I find a phone. I’ll explain what happened, and then we’ll get you back to normal.”

  Her grip on my arms tightened, and she dropped her head, nodding. “Okay.” But then her head came up, and she turned, letting go of me and dropping back a step in alarm.

  “Move, and I’ll shoot you,” Eloy said from the dark, his silhouette black against the starlit observatory. “Move, and I’ll shoot you both. Right here. Right now.”

  Damn. I watched, frozen, as he cocked the small rifle. He was head to toe in camouflage, looking both threatening and ridiculous against the background of Cincinnati. We weren’t in a fucking war here—but maybe we were. He’d said he’d shoot us, and I believed him.

  “Hell, I think I’ll just shoot you anyway,” he said, pulling the gun to his shoulder in a very fast, profes
sional motion.

  “Run!” I shouted, giving Winona a push. If he was going to shoot at us, a moving target was harder to hit—especially with that little rifle he had.

  The sound of the rifle going off hit me like a slap, and something thunked into my leg. It stung, and I stumbled, almost pulling Winona down. I wedged her arm off me and fell, turning to look up at Eloy. My leg was wet, and I held it, praying.

  Eloy made a huff of success and brought his rifle up again, this time aiming for Winona. My pulse thundered in my ears. Behind him, the fire trucks got louder, the first of the lights flashing on the building. Oh God. I was going to be killed by a rifle-toting, HAPA redneck with a grudge against the supernatural.

  “Go!” I shouted, and with a snarl, she jumped right at him.

  Eloy dodged, silently swinging his gun to hit her. She caught it with a smack to her palm, and she yanked it from him, throwing it to the damp grass. “Son of a bitch!” the man cried, and she jumped onto his back, her mouth wide in a primal scream as she tore chunks of his hair out and pounded on him. Her tail whipped his face, and he reached behind himself, grabbing her and throwing her over his shoulder.

  Winona landed on her feet and jumped at him again. The man covered his face and dropped to the ground, curled up like he was being attacked by a bear. Winona stomped all over him, her tiny hooves having almost 150 pounds behind each inch.

  I scooted back until I found a tree I could use to get to my feet. I wouldn’t let go of my leg, and my hand was sticky. People were getting out of the fire trucks. Now that they weren’t moving, they might be able to hear us. “Winona!” I hissed as a huge truck light swung over the nearby trees. “Winona! We’ve got to go!”

  A clatter of pixy wings brought my heart into my mouth. Jenks! I thought as my gaze darted to the new sprinkling of pixy dust arrowing to us from deep in the woods. I leaned against the tree, my hope rising. Could I be that lucky?

  “Rache! Holy crap!” Jenks shouted as he came to a short stop inches from my face, and I almost collapsed in relief. “We found you!” the exuberant pixy said, and I grinned, feeling faint. “Good thinking to set the place on fire! Glenn thought you were in some mobile home, but I stuck with Trent. The cookie maker needs someone to look out for him. He’s worse than you in making bad decisions. He did six things wrong since leaving his house. Let’s leave dust before that freaky-ass demon sees you!”

  “That’s not a demon, that’s Winona,” I said, wincing as she gave Eloy a last kick and howled her success at the stars.

  “Who?” Jenks asked.

  “Winona.” I leaned against the tree and pressed my hand into my leg. It was starting to hurt. That was a good thing, right? “She’s a nice woman they snatched. They did that to her. With my blood.” Oh God, they used my blood, and I felt a tear leak out. I knew it was the trauma, but I couldn’t stop it.

  His dust shifting to an alarmed red, Jenks hovered beside me as I started breathing shallowly. “Is she still smart?”

  “Yeah.” I took a breath, but I couldn’t tell if the lights were spinning because they were really spinning or if it was from blood loss. “She’s got a few issues she’s working out, is all. That’s Eloy she’s stomping on. He’s a son . . . of a bastard. He put us in a cage, and Chris did that to her. It’s HAPA, Jenks. They’re going to wipe us all out if they can duplicate my blood.”

  Winona turned to us, looking demonic but justifiably proud of herself as she grinned. Behind her, Eloy was not moving. Somehow I didn’t care.

  “Trent!” Jenks shouted, rising up for an instant. “We’re over here!”

  Trent was out here? I thought, Jenks’s earlier words taking on an entirely new meaning.

  Dropping down to my knee, he noticed the blood. “Shit, you’ve been shot! Trent, I could use some muscle here! Why the Tink-blasted daisies do you think I brought you!”

  “It’s just a small caliber. Why is Trent here?” I whispered, leaning against the tree. It was getting harder to breathe. Ivy. Ivy should be here, not Trent.

  The hair on the back of my neck started to prickle, and Jenks rose up. “Trent, no!” he cried out, and my eyes flashed open to see a dark shadow. “She’s with us! She’s with us!”

  But it was too late, and a ball of magic hissed through the air, headed right for Winona. The woman didn’t have a clue, staring transfixed at the hunched shadow, looking like Peter Pan, crouched in the nearby tree.

  I lunged for Winona. Jenks darted up, and I landed on her, right when Trent’s spell slammed into me.

  My breath came in with a gasp as it felt like my skin exploded, shooting jagged daggers from the inside out. Groaning, I clenched my jaw and curled into a ball as I fell off Winona, shaking as my pounding heart pushed the pain deeper, finding my chi and then exploding again. I could do nothing but ride it out, and it was a hard one. Stupid-ass elf! Jenks was right. He jumped to conclusions worse than I did.

  “What the hell are you doing!” Jenks shrilled, and the world spun as Winona picked me up and began backing away, managing my weight easily. “You hit Rachel, you idiot!”

  “Put her down, demon!” Trent said, his beautiful voice hard with threat as he dropped from the trees, the come-and-go lights from the fire trucks playing over him. “I’ll kill you where you stand. I am her Sa’han, and you will not have her.”

  “You are not,” I breathed, trying to wave him off, and Jenks hovered over us, lighting Winona’s scared expression with his own dust. “Knock it off, will you? She’s my friend.”

  “She’s with Rache!” Jenks shrilled. “God! You’re dumb! Do you think I’d be hovering here with my thumb up my ass if Winona was going to hurt her?”

  “Stay back,” Winona said, her tears hitting me, heavy and warm. “Stay back! Oh God, Rachel. Please be all right!”

  “Jenks?” I murmured, trying to focus, but Winona was backing into the trees, terrified. Elf magic sucked. I didn’t think I could move. Even my heartbeat hurt. Damn! Trent packed a punch. Someone needed to muzzle him. Stupid-ass businessman trying to play runner.

  The glow of a phone screen lit his face, and he quietly said, “I’ve got her. Right where I said she’d be.” He hesitated, a new tightness to his lips. “Why do you think I’m out here, Quen? I’ll see you in a few minutes.” He hesitated, then added, “Then you should have listened to me,” and shut the phone. The light cut off. “Please, we have to move,” he said, and Winona’s arms around me tightened. Her meadowy scent rose high where my wet clothes touched her, and I felt numb.

  “It’s okay, Winona,” Jenks said, darting to hover over Trent as he walked forward, his hands in the air, but Winona kept going back, deeper into the woods and away from the lights of the fire trucks.

  “HAPA is still out here,” Trent said, his expression unseen as the fire trucks flashed behind him now. “I can take you somewhere safe, but you have to trust me. I’m sorry about the spell. I saw you and . . . I overreacted. Please. Don’t run. I can’t help if you don’t let me.”

  No, he couldn’t. It was something I was learning at long last. I hoped it wasn’t too late.

  Trent’s voice had lost its edge, falling into the more familiar coaxing businessman I knew. Winona wasn’t buying it, and Jenks hovered over her shoulder. Winona shook her head, her tears hitting me, and Trent made a noise of frustration. “Some help here, Rachel?”

  I tried to take a deep breath, my lungs on fire. “Idiot . . .” I wheezed. “You shouldn’t be throwing spells like that unless you know what you’re doing!”

  “You want me to leave?” he said, and Jenks’s wings clattered in frustration.

  “Can you guys save this for after we get in the car?” he said, and I tried to focus on his glittering sparkles. I was so glad to see him, I could just cry. No, wait, I was already doing that.

  “Winona, please,” I whispered as my eyes shut. “I know this guy. You can trust him.�
�� My eyes opened, and I looked at Winona, seeing her need to believe that there might be a way out of this. “He can help us both,” I slurred, then clenched as a new wave of pain hit. Oh God, the spell wasn’t dissipating fast enough. I was going to go into shock.

  “You’re Trent Kalamack?” she warbled, and Trent nodded. She shifted from foot to foot, but I think it was Jenks still hovering over him that did it, and I sighed when Trent put his hands on me and the pain lessened. I sagged in relief, and Winona stiffened.

  “It’s okay!” Jenks yelled before she ran off with me. “He just broke the pain charm.”

  “I still hurt,” I said, my eyes opening. I smelled cinnamon and wine, and Trent’s finger turned my face to his. He was smiling, a hint of guilt and embarrassment behind it, and I tried to smile back. “What are you doing out here? Shouldn’t you be taking over a corporation or something?”

  “Ah, sorry about that,” he said, worry pinching his brow. “Better now?”

  Sorry? He was sorry?

  “She’s been shot,” Jenks said, and I felt a new wash of warmth as he dusted my leg again.

  “I see that,” he said, his gaze going up the hill to the fire trucks. “I would’ve found you sooner, but everyone was focused on a trailer park, and it wasn’t until Quen left that I had the chance to do a finding spell.” He grimaced as he took me from Winona and the soothing scent of cinnamon and wine flowed over me anew. His hand with the missing fingers pinched, the pressure needed to hold me channeled into fewer fingers. “Maybe next time, they’ll listen to me.”

  “Happens to me all the time,” I said, eyes closing as he started walking and my head thumped into his chest. Things were getting fuzzy again, and I felt like I was being rocked as he walked, Jenks shining ahead of us.

  “I’ve a car a quarter mile up the road,” Trent said, concern edging his voice. “I’ll have you in a tub of water in half an hour.” He glanced at Winona. “Both of you.”