[English] THE WITCH WITH NO NAME

The Witch With No Name
The Witch With No Name Page 90



“Me too, Rache,” Jenks chimed in, and I tossed my hair so he could land on my shoulder.

“No problem,” I said, playing along with the idea that we could actually do this. I wasn’t leaving without Ivy and Nina, and my fingertips tingled as I strengthened my hold on the lines and filled my chi, then spindled even more in my head.

Trent held the door for me, and the wind blew my hair back as I went in. The first floor of the lobby was almost empty, and noise from the second- and third-floor offices filtered down the huge stairway. I looked up at the glass railings and desks, feeling my stomach knot. Head down, we angled toward the bank of elevators. There were at least seven levels downstairs, maybe more. I’d never been there, but Ivy had told me about them one night when she’d had too much to drink.

“The treasurer is on the third floor,” Trent said, eyes flicking from the information sign.

“You think they’d let us post bail and leave with her?” I said, and Jenks snorted.

Trent’s arm slipped from mine. “It will get their attention.”

It would at that, but I figured we already had their attention. I’d sat outside their building for almost an hour. “I say we go down as far as we can,” I said as I pushed the button for the elevator.

“Excuse me!” a somewhat feminine voice called out. “Yes, at the elevator?”

We turned to the tall man coming down the stairway. He was in a trendy suit, a living vampire by the way he moved, having confidence and fear mixed in all together. “Jenks, don’t go too far but see what you can find out,” I muttered, and he tweaked my ear before flying away, his dust matching the color of the marble floor exactly.

Trent sighed as he pulled himself upright and found a professional expression. The sharp taps of dress shoes on the stairs echoed as the man jogged down, his hands free and arms swinging. “Ms. Morgan?” he said as he got close, clearly nervous and more than a little excited. “Could you accompany me downstairs?”

“Maybe.” Damn it, this felt wrong.

The clerk moved as if to put a hand to my back, and I jumped to avoid him. Flustered, the man tried to find his aplomb. “Mr. Cormel would like to speak with you,” he said, all civilized, but there were two big guys at the lobby doors now, and people lined the glass railings, watching.

Trent scratched the side of his nose, not being ignored as such, but clearly not the focus of the man’s interest. “I want to pay Ivy’s bond,” I said, though it was actually Trent’s money that would do it.

Nodding, the clerk pushed the down button on a different panel. “He can arrange that.”

“I bet he can,” I said as the door opened and Trent and the clerk got in. Eyes wide, the clerk gestured for me to join them, and sullen, I stomped into the lift. “This is not a good idea,” I grumbled as the doors closed and the clerk ran a card. Jenks hadn’t made it, but elevators had never stopped him before.

“It’s better than having them come at us over dinner,” Trent said softly, and the clerk caught back a snort.

My eyes went to the panel. Sixth floor? Way out of reach of a ley line.

“Cormel is a reasonable man,” Trent said, more for the aide than me. “He’s not going to shove us in a hole.” Trent’s voice had been confident, but the tension in his fingers against my back gave him away. He was wire tight, and my own alarm ratcheted higher.

“Yeah, well, if he tries, I’m going to burn his office down to his red stapler.” I could talk to the aide, too, and Trent’s hand fell from my back as the doors opened to show a wide, brightly lit carpeted hallway. Two more pretty men and one ***y woman waited by the narrow table against the wall. Orchids and cut flowers made it less six stories under and more thirty stories up. The silk, linen, and jewelry they wore made no attempt to hide the scars.

The clerk with us hit a button to freeze the lift, clearing his throat and holding his hand out. “Your purse, Ms. Morgan. And your cap and ribbon, Mr. Kalamack.”

My grip on it tightened. I’d lost contact with the ley lines at about level three. There wasn’t much in the bag to begin with, but I was loath to let it go. One by one, I was being stripped of my defenses.

“And your phones?” he added smugly.

Sighing, Trent dug in his pocket. Expression amused, he handed the clerk his phone, cap, and ribbon.

I hesitated, but when Trent glanced at his watch, I shoved my bag at the clerk and stomped out of the elevator. Was I a demon, or was I a demon?

I swear, Trent was smiling when he caught up, slipping an arm in mine and slowing me down. Ivy was here somewhere. If they didn’t give her to me, I was going to tear the place apart. “I hope your chess game is better than mine,” I said softly.

“Me too,” he breathed, and I wondered where Jenks was.

“This way, please,” one of the men said, and I stifled a shiver at the two guards following. The walls were bright, and with the artwork from multiple periods and schools on the walls and pedestals, it felt as if we were in a museum. The air stank of vampire. No wonder Ivy had worked so hard to get out of here. Damn, my scar was tingling.

“You okay?”

“Ask me tomorrow,” I said as the escort stopped before a glass-and-wood door and gestured for us to enter. Heart pounding, I went first, thinking it looked like any other corner office apart from the no-window thing. “It’s better than an interrogation room,” I said, then spun when Cormel bustled in right behind us, his motions vampire quick.

“I don’t like it much either,” he said as he moved behind the opulent, but largely bare, desk. “This is my office. Please, sit down. We have time to chat before everyone arrives.”

“You mean Ivy, right?” I said, and he laughed, gesturing at the chairs.

“Sit down, Rachel.”

That made me feel oh so fuzzy and warm, and I eased into the leather chair closest to the door. Trent hesitated, then took the other. “I wasn’t aware that you worked for the I.S.,” Trent said.

Cormel laced his fingers atop his desk, clearly pleased. “I don’t. The office came with Piscary’s title. I do enough business here to warrant keeping it, but not enough to have a secretary. Thank you for saving me the effort to find you. Can I get you anything?”

My eyes narrowed. “Ivy,” I stated, and he smiled. It was the smile that had saved the free world during the Turn, but it fell flat against me.

“Pleasure before business,” he said, chuckling.

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Lifting the chair under me, I scooted it forward until my knees were almost touching the desk. Sitting back, I put my ankles up on it. It was meant to bother him, and it did, but instead of pushing back, Cormel leaned forward until I could see he wasn’t breathing. “Would you like something to drink?” he said, the words precise and clear.

I took my feet off his desk and leaned over it, the flat of my arms stretched out until my fists were right under his face and I could watch his eyes dilate to a full, angry black. “Where’s Ivy?”

Trent cleared his throat. “I’d like a black coffee,” he said pleasantly. “I don’t know what Rachel wants. Second-guessing her is a mistake.”

He’d given me a way to back off, and I took it, settling into the leather chair and trying to keep my breathing shallow and avoid taking in so much vampire pheromones. My God, they were thick down here. “Coffee,” I said, and the man eased out of the room, shutting the door behind him. “Cormel, this is stupid. Felix walked into the sun. How much proof do you need?”

“Right to the point,” Cormel said, sighing. “But wrong nevertheless.”

“It will kill you,” I continued, wanting to get out of here. “Don’t ask me why, but I don’t want to see you dead.”

“Dead?” Cormel’s pupils shrank, and I breathed easier. “No, you simply don’t want to see us progress out of the trap we’re in. Felix was not sane. I am.”

“You think you’re sane?” I said, almost laughing. “The longer you’ve been sucking people dry, the harder it is *****rvive the trauma of your soul. Give me Ivy and I’ll see what I can do for the newly undead, but you having your soul will cause you *****ncide. Landon knows it. He’s counting on it. Why are you listening to him?”

Trent dryly cleared his throat, but I fixed my eyes on Cormel, daring him to look away. His lip had curled up to show a little more fang, making me wonder if I should back off.

“Landon is doing exactly what I want,” the vampire said. “We will not perish but be stronger for our souls after we . . . adapt. Can you imagine it?” he said, eyes alight. “The power of the undead with the strength of the living?”

I thought of Nina, swaying the crowd with just that. “It’s a dream, Cormel.”

A flicker of unease crossed him. He knew, and yet he still persisted. Why? Steepling his fingers, he said, “Indications show that with enough time the emotions will fade.”

“Guilt takes forever to fade.”

“We have forever,” he shot back, and agitated, I turned to the man bringing in three cups of coffee. It smelled wonderful, and no one said anything as he gave Cormel his first, then Trent, and finally me. The man practically backed out, and my eyes narrowed at his fear.

“To live forever will elevate us, make us strong,” Cormel said, his attention on the tiny spoon as he sifted what was probably salt into his coffee. I’d be willing to bet it shifted the flavor more to a mug of warm, salty blood.

“Ask the demons how great forever is,” I said, deciding to skip the coffee.

“Yet you’ve given Ivy hope,” Cormel said. “You must believe it’s possible for the undead *****rvive with their souls if you gave Ivy a magic to capture hers.”

****, he’d found the soul bottle. “If you took it from her,” I threatened, wishing I hadn’t pushed my chair up so close. It was Ivy’s, damn it! He had no right.

“I didn’t take her magic,” Cormel said. Expression blank, he sipped his coffee. “You’ve failed to convince me of the danger. I’ll trust Landon a little longer.”

“Then you’re going to die!” I exclaimed, frustrated as he gestured for someone outside the office. “The longer you’re dead, the more wrong things you do to stay alive, and the harder it is *****rvive the guilt in your soul. It’s only the newly undead that might make it.”

“There is no wrong!” Cormel shouted, suddenly standing. “I’ve done nothing wrong!”

I said nothing, not having even seen him move. Trent, too, was a little disconcerted, and I grimaced, not wanting to have Cormel at my throat but needing to make him understand.

Cormel edged from his desk, a hint of confusion marring his confidence. “They gift me with their blood, their aura, their soul. How can it be wrong?”

“It is,” I said softly. “That’s why you weep when you get your soul back. You can’t have everything you want.”

“Remember that,” Cormel said as the door to the hall opened and Landon was shoved in. He looked disheveled, in the same robes I’d seen him wearing on TV. I figured he was about as happy as we were to be here, but the shimmer of satisfaction in the tilt to his head gave me pause. Slowly I stood, not wanting to be at a disadvantage. Trent remained seated, his fingers steepled and his ankle across one knee. You shouldn’t be here, I thought, worried.

Landon pulled himself straight, seeming official in his purple and green robes and that hat that Newt favored. “Rachel,” he said, giving me a nod. “Trent,” he added sarcastically before turning to Cormel. “I told you it wouldn’t last if they’re alive. Kill them or the surface demons remain in the ever-after.”

My gaze flicked to the two thugs just inside the door and back again. “We didn’t send them back. Your spell fell apart.”

“Rachel tells me you’re lying,” Cormel said, and Landon’s expression blanked. “And I believe the actual wording of our agreement was that I’d remove them from power.” He gestured to Trent. “I sent them fleeing to the West Coast. They returned and I isolated them. They have no power,” he said, smiling pleasantly. “Bring back our souls. Now.”

“The dewar is split because he lives,” Landon said, but he was sweating. If I could see it, every vampire on the floor could smell it. “I won’t bring your souls back until I have control.”

“Won’t, or can’t?” Cormel sat down, leaving Landon and me standing.

“You’ll not survive this, Landon,” Trent intoned, and Cormel turned to him in speculation. “You’ll die by your own hand. I’ll have no regrets.”

It sounded poetic, and I hid my shiver by moving to stand behind his chair. It was a good eight feet away from the desk, and I breathed easier. I didn’t like his being here. Despite everything he’d said, I’d never forgive myself if he suffered because of me.

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“It’s business,” Landon said dismissively and turned to Cormel. “Well?”

The vampire leaned back into his chair, making it creak. “The living are fascinating,” he mused aloud. “You both seem to think you have leverage. You don’t.” He licked his lips to show his teeth. “I don’t trust you, Landon.”

“You didn’t kill them!” Landon shouted, and I shrank back when Cormel stood.

“You are lying!” he thundered, and the guards outside in the hall came in. “I’m not going to kill them. I don’t have to. All you need is control of the dewar, yes?”

Cormel wasn’t going to kill us. Great. Somehow that didn’t thrill me. Trent paled, and I put a hand on his shoulder. The stored energy in his chi tingled through me, and I felt our balances equalize. Neither of us could make a circle, but we had at least one good spell each.

“You will stop lying to me,” the vampire said, motions smooth and controlled as he ghosted out from behind the desk.

Landon backed up, jerking when one of Cormel’s thugs shoved him forward. Cormel closed the gap. “I know you lost control of our souls,” the vampire said, reaching to arrange Landon’s collar. “You didn’t force them back because Rachel and Trent still live. You let them slip away. Blaming them to cover your error is disturbing.”

I barely breathed as Cormel leaned in toward Landon. “If you have control of the dewar, can you bring them back?” Cormel asked. “The truth.”

“Y-yes,” he stammered, and Cormel smiled, giving his face a little pat. “But the dewar won’t side with me while he lives.”

Cormel turned his back on us to retrieve his coffee. “And the demons?” Smiling, still smiling, he leaned against his desk, looking at me over the rim of his coffee cup.

Landon’s attention shifted between Cormel and Trent, clearly nervous. “I can force all of them except Rachel back to the ever-after,” he said. “I can then close the lines so the ever-after will collapse, taking the demons with it.”

He wants to kill the demons, too? I shook my head in disbelief. “You’d end all magic?” I said softly. “What in hell are you afraid of, Landon?”

Trent was the only one still sitting, and it made him look like he was in control—when he clearly wasn’t. Or was he?

Landon sneered, telling me he was afraid. “Don’t be stupid. I wouldn’t end magic forever. With the entire dewar and enclave backing me, we can reinstate the Arizona lines.”

Jaw dropping, I followed that through. He’d hold the entirety of Inderland hostage with the threat of destroying the lines if he didn’t get what he wanted, when he wanted, whenever he wanted. Beside me, Trent made a small noise of appreciation, and I tightened my grip on his shoulder. Okay, it was a great idea, but not for us.

“The lines are dead. You can’t reinstate them,” I said quickly, wondering if Cormel had us down here to affirm or deny Landon’s claim. “Why are you listening? He wants you dead.”

Expression ugly, Landon took a step away from the thugs. “Nothing is impossible.” He turned to Cormel. “And nothing happens until I control the dewar.”

Cold, I gripped the back of Trent’s chair. Cormel’s eyes traveled over all of us, and with a little sigh, he pushed into motion. “We can take care of that right now,” he said as he pulled open a drawer and brought out a folder. “Kalamack, where are your daughters?”

“My daughters?” Trent echoed, and my first fear that Cormel was threatening them vanished. They were with Al. Nothing could harm them.

“With a demonic babysitter, I believe?” Cormel drawled. Landon looked awfully smug all of a sudden, and I tensed.

“As a matter of fact, yes,” Trent said, and I snatched the papers that Cormel was extending. Trent reached up and took them from me before I could read them, but then my jaw clenched as I saw the first few lines.

“Child abuse?” I spat. “Are you kidding?”

Cormel leaned back in his chair. “No. Mr. Kalamack is accused of child abuse for putting the girls in the care of a demon.”

“You can’t do that!” I exclaimed, but by Trent’s pale face, I thought they not only could, they had.

“Criminal neglect and endangerment,” Cormel was saying. “He may as well have dangled them from the top of the I.S. tower. Not a good choice, Morgan. Your idea, wasn’t it?”

No, it had been Trent’s, but I’d thought it was a good one. “They aren’t in any danger! Al isn’t going to hurt them!” Trent let the papers fall, and I scooped them up, hands shaking.

“Kalamack’s actions are being seen as a political stunt to show demons in an uncharacteristic and false light. Of course, we can avoid all this . . . if you return our souls yourself?”

I froze, my stomach knotting. Son of a bitch. Ellasbeth was going to have the girls within the hour.

“This is for both girls.” The scent of spoiled wine pushed out the vampiric pheromones. My pulse pounded as Trent stood and took the papers from me. “Ellasbeth can’t claim Ray,” he said, dropping them on the desk. “She’s not her child.”

Landon edged forward as Cormel spun the paperwork to him. “Lucy was the firstborn, was she not?” he said, peering over his glasses as he sat down and fumbled for a pen. “There should be sufficient dewar support with just the one girl.”

“This isn’t about power!” Trent exclaimed, and Cormel looked up from crossing Ray’s name off the paperwork. “Lucy is my child!”

“Not anymore.” Cormel lightly flipped through the pages and initialized the changes.

Horrified, I stood by the chair. This was my fault. They were doing this because of my association with Trent. He was trying to find a way to live with demons because of me, and it was costing him everything. Damn you, Ellasbeth. Do you even know what you’re doing?

Cormel slid the pages back in the folder and closed it, an ageless hand resting atop it protectively. “Produce Lucy, or you will not leave this room.”

My God, he was going to give Lucy to Landon. The girl was a living symbol of the elven future, and whoever raised her held her power until she was old enough to hold it herself. Scared, I sized up the thugs by the door. I’d had worse odds and fewer assets, but one of them was Trent—and I recognized an odd panic. There’d be no ley line this deep underground. I had only one spell’s worth of power spindled, but when Trent reached up and put a hand on mine, I felt a jolting tingle. Lips pressed, he pushed more energy into me, and shocked, I remembered Trent had a familiar. He had access to a line, and through him, I did, too. Not so helpless then . . .

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But my fear for him remained. “You’re holding us on what grounds?”

Cormel looked at the ceiling and pushed back from the desk. “Kalamack for refusing a court order, and you . . . I don’t know, but we’ll come up with something.”

I moved back from the chair, pissed as three of his people approached. “This is why you weep when you get your soul, Cormel. I’m almost ready to force it down your throat.”

A flicker of unease passed over Cormel, but it was gone quickly. “Satisfied?” Cormel asked Landon, handing him the folder.

“Your souls will return at sundown,” Landon said shortly, and Cormel’s smile faded. “We have to wait until the lines are flowing in the proper direction,” he added, then paled at Cormel’s sudden snarl. “I will personally fix your soul to your body myself,” he said quickly. “You can’t force the tides, and we must wait until the flow of energy is conducive for the magic required.”

Suspicious, Cormel looked at me, reading the truth of it in my grimace.

“And I need time to sway the dewar,” Landon said with a relieved exhale.

I’d had just about enough. “You mean parade Lucy about like a trophy,” I said as Trent got to his feet, shaking out his coat and stopping the vampires with one hard look. “You haven’t earned your voice, Landon. You’ve not done one thing to prove you’re fit to lead a school outing, much less an entire people.”

“He can’t force the demons into the ever-after,” Trent told Cormel.

“Watch me.” Landon’s face was red as he held his papers like a shield.

“He can’t reinstate the Arizona lines once he destroys the ever-after, either,” Trent continued. “Cormel, you will be known as the man who allowed an elf to kill all magic.”

There were too many people in here, and my back was almost to the wall. My heart pounded. This was easier when I didn’t love anyone.

“The risk is worth it,” Cormel said, motioning to the two guys still standing by the door. Crap on toast, they had guns. “Landon, if it’s not done at sunset, you will die an hour afterward because I will wring the life from you personally. Take your stolen power and go.”

Landon looked frightened as he edged to the door. Damn it, if he left with that folder, Lucy was gone. Frustrated and angry, I paced to Cormel. “He can’t save you!”

The vampire’s eyes were black when they met mine. “And you won’t.” He eyed the short distance between us and waved his men closer. “Take them away.”

Frustrated, energy swirled to my fingertips. I wasn’t going to get Ivy or Nina, and coming here had only lost Lucy.

By the door, Landon hesitated. “You strapped them, didn’t you?” he asked, and I smiled at Cormel. It was wicked and promising pain, but he wasn’t looking at me.

“No,” he said, and I was jerked back as someone pulled me away from the desk. “We’re seven stories down. They can’t reach a ley line from here.”

“Trent can!” Landon exclaimed.

I flung my head back. The sudden crunch of cartilage and the cry of pain raced through me, fueled by adrenaline. My grin widened at the cry, and I yanked my arm free, spinning and jamming my palm into the man’s jaw for good measure. He fell back, but I was already turning. “You will not take Lucy from him . . . ,” I panted, almost crawling over the desk to get at Cormel.

“Down!” someone yelled, and I heard Trent’s voice raised loud in elven chanting.

Ta na shay swirled in my thoughts, making my heart pound and my lips pull back from my teeth. “You!” I snarled, and Cormel dodged out of the way, his eyes black in fear as he saw my desperate confidence.

I feinted, then scrabbled the other way, ducking his reach for me and spinning to slam my foot behind his knee.

He dropped. I could hear crashes behind me and Landon shouting spells. Someone shot one of those stupid guns. “Trent!” I shouted, turning.

Cormel’s fist slammed into my head. Dazed, I did nothing when his meaty hand fastened on my neck, yanking me up with the strength of a wolf with a kitten. “You think you can best me?” he snarled, and I screamed under the pressure. Tears born in pain pricked, and I hung there, seeing Trent struggling under two vampires. I could smell ozone and gunpowder. A woman screamed for help in the hallway.

“Let go!” I exclaimed, the last of the energy in my chi sparking between us.

Cormel jerked, his hold coming back all the stronger. With a sudden tug, he yanked me to him, an arm wrapping around my neck. “God help me, how does that vampire bitch resist you?” Cormel murmured, his breath in my hair. “Do you know how long it has been since anyone has been able to hurt me?”

From somewhere, ever-after energy burst from me, and with an angry cry Cormel flung me away. I hit the wall, sliding down and rolling to stay out of his reach.

“Corrumpo!” Trent raged as I tried to find my feet, failing. Just as well, as a pulse of force exploded from Trent, knocking everyone down. The windows shattered into the hall with a loud pop, and frightened cries filtered in. Cormel was on his hands and knees. His men were disoriented.

I ran for Cormel, scooping up a gun as I went. Energy zinged down my pathways from an unending spool in my head. Trent must have given me more than I realized.

“Cohibere!” Landon bellowed from the floor, and I ducked even as Trent set a circle and the magic was harmlessly deflected.

I skidded to a halt behind Cormel, dropping down and wrapping an arm around his neck and shoving the gun to his head. “Give me Ivy. Now!”

Cormel moved, and I stung him with a pulse of ever-after. “You want to live forever?” I shouted, gun pressed against his head. “You need your brain intact! Tell them to back off! Now!”

It had gone silent. Landon was flat on the floor, a haze of energy in his hand. Trent was standing over the two vampires he had downed. He had a red mark on his forehead, and his eyes were angry. Whispers came from the hall, and I tightened my grip when six capable-looking vampires edged through the glass in the hallway. Each one of them had a gun pointed at me.

Cormel began to laugh, pissing me off. “Shoot her,” he said to his men. “Try not to hit me this time.”

My eyes widened. ****, he had called my bluff.

“Rachel!” Trent cried out, and he went down under two vampires.

My breath came in. I could see everything. Landon on the floor, the court papers strewn before him, a scrap of Trent’s pants showing from under the pile of guards, the scent of excited vampire stinging my nose.

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The bang of the handgun seemed too small, and I knew before the bullet left the muzzle that it was going to be true. I had no time. My eyes closed and I wished it had happened some other way. Energy tingled, but I couldn’t set a circle. Not without being connected to a line. He’d won. The bastard had won.

With a familiar furp-ping, the bullet glanced off a bubble and buried itself in the wall.

I tensed, feeling nothing but the sensation of tingles over my skin. My heart thudded in the new silence, and I opened my eyes. Someone had saved me. Trent?

But it hadn’t been him. My lips parted. Cormel tried to move and I instinctively tightened my grip, shoving the handgun into him harder. A faint haze hung before me like a bubble, but it wasn’t the expected red-tinted ever-after with shades of an aura, but a milky white.

****. The mystics.

Panicked, I looked at Trent. His face was pale as he struggled in the grip of two vampires.

“How . . . !” Landon sputtered, the papers scattered before him forgotten. “You don’t have a familiar!”

I swallowed hard, my grip on Cormel tightening. “Yeah, how about that.” Everything I’d been working for to get the demons *****rvive was gone. Even they wouldn’t listen to me now. Not with mystics swarming through me.

“She must have taken a familiar,” Cormel said. He had me on weight, but the gun beside his eye kept him still.

“That’s right,” I lied, and Trent shook off the goons on him. “You there. Put the paperwork on the desk.”

“This won’t change anything,” Landon said. He was right, but I wasn’t leaving without Ivy.

“Get Ivy in here!” I shouted. “Now!”

No one moved. “You’re just going to have to kill me, Morgan,” Cormel said, and it was starting to look like a good option.

Trent tensed as my finger tightened. It wouldn’t take much. The world would be a better place. “Rachel! Don’t!” Trent called out, and I looked at him, unbelieving.

“Why not?” I asked, watching Cormel’s eyes dilate in fear.

“This isn’t who you are,” Trent said, shaking off the hands holding him.

“How do you know?” I shouted, and the whispers from the hall grew loud. “I already let one sniveling excuse for a person live because you asked me to. Maybe this is who I am! Huh? Maybe I’m just a murdering bastard and you don’t know it! Why should I be any different from you? Why!”

I swear I saw a drop of sweat trickle down Cormel’s neck. He wasn’t breathing, terrified.

For three long seconds Trent thought about that. Head dropping for an instant, his eyes rose to find mine. The enormity of the past two days was on him, heavy and thick. “You’re right,” he said softly. “Do what you want.”

Cormel’s eyes closed to hide the fear and hope that I might shoot him dead and end it all.

Son of a bitch, this isn’t who I am. Crying out in frustration, I shoved Cormel away from me. I never saw him hit the floor as someone flew at me, tackling me around the waist and sending me down.

“It’s yours, it’s yours!” I shouted as one sat on me and spun my arm around behind my back and another wrenched my wrist until I let go of the handgun.

“Get her off the floor!” Cormel bellowed, and I was yanked to my feet again. Like a huge cat, the master vampire paced before the desk, his fear just under the surface. Landon was a hunched shadow gathering his precious paperwork as if it was diamonds in a mine. But I couldn’t look away from Trent, strapped and standing with a defiant gleam in his eye and a cut under his cheekbone. His suit was rumpled but the only fear in him was directed at me. He knew the mystics were working in me. I was a loaded gun.

“You going to kill me now?” I said. “And you wonder why you walk into the sun when you find your soul.” The soft sound of Landon shuffling papers almost made me sick, and I stared at Cormel defiantly when he jerked to a stop.

“Don’t harm her,” he said, pointing, and my arm was wrenched back until I saw stars. “Put her in a box. One that has holes so she can breathe. Kalamack . . .”

His voice whispered to nothing, and my breath caught when I realized Trent didn’t have the same value I did. My lip curled and I pulled the mystic energy together enough to make my hair begin to float. If he made one move to hurt Trent, it was going to start back up, and this time I wasn’t going to hold back.

Cormel’s lips were pressed tight as he looked from me to Trent and back again. “Put them both in a box,” he said. “Kill his horse, though.”

Trent didn’t move as two vampires literally lifted his feet from the floor.

“Which one is his?” one of them asked, and Cormel looked at me in disgust.

“I don’t know. Kill them all.”

“Cormel—” Trent said, his voice cutting off when one of the vampires hit him.

Cormel turned his spilled coffee cup upright. “I’ll get my soul, Morgan. One way or another.”

“Yeah?” I managed before we were pushed into the hallway, my boots and Trent’s dress shoes clinking among the shards of safety glass. We had two vampires each holding us, and though I could do magic, Trent would suffer if I did.

“Hey, Trent,” I said as we were shoved past the onlookers and to the elevators again. “Was this about what you wanted?”

“Apart from his killing my horses, yes. Cormel now realizes he needs me.”

We were at the elevators, and I looked at him, wondering how big this box was going to be. “Needs you? For what?”

His eye was beginning to swell, and he smiled as the doors opened and they muscled us in. “To keep you from killing him, of course.”

Chapter 21

As cells went, it was one of the more spacious lockups that I’d been in. I didn’t think it was one of the usual I.S. cells, though I could be wrong—it would be a mistake to lock the undead in a standard bar-and-cot five-by-eight. The fifteen-by-fifteen room had a toilet behind an opaque screen and a pedestal sink. There was even a mirror over it, cemented into the flat gray walls. I hadn’t decided yet if it was a two-way or not, and by now, I didn’t care.

There was one cot, which Trent was stretched out on with his hands behind his head, staring at the ceiling. One gray blanket and a thin, sad excuse for a pillow was all they had given us. I didn’t mind sharing such a tight space with Trent, but I was beginning to have issues with us being down here at all, even if it was nicer than that damp HAPA cell under the museum, or the soft gray nothing of the demon lockup, or even the rat cage Trent had kept me in for a few days.

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Frustrated, I looked at him, his green eyes fixed on nothing as he took slow, careful breaths. He was irritatingly relaxed, with his shoes neatly arranged under the cot and his slim feet in their gray socks just begging for me to come over and run my finger up the arch of his foot to make him jump.

His jaw tightened when I sighed impatiently, and I put my ear to the door, listening. It was soundproof, but I tapped it anyway. I still hadn’t seen Jenks. Ivy was down here somewhere, too, and I hit a knuckle again, straining to hear an answering knock.

“What are you doing?”

I couldn’t tell if the irritation in his voice was real or me projecting. “If we’re in a cell block, then maybe Ivy’s next door.”

“Well, could you do it a little quieter?”

Not believing what had just come out of his mouth, I spun slowly on a heel. He was right where I’d left him, eyes closed and his neck muscles tight. “You want me to be quiet?” I said, and he cracked a single eye. “We’re locked in a box and you want me to be quiet?”

Trent’s eyes opened all the way, and he looked at his watch. “Not bad. Most people would be at my throat in forty minutes. It’s been almost three hours.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re impressed!” Hands on my hips, I watched him swing his feet to the floor and stretch. “Landon not only gets control of the dewar but he also gets Lucy. Because of me. Because if not for me, none of this would be happening! Forgive me for being a little upset.”

He eyed me as he finished his stretch, elbows on his knees. “Why do you think everything is your fault?”

“Because it usually is.” Ticked, I gestured wildly. “If not for me you wouldn’t be in danger of losing the girls, the dewar would listen to you, and you wouldn’t be broke. And Tulpa.” My face scrunched up in sudden worry and my anger fell flat. “Trent, what if they kill him?”

“Tulpa will be fine.” He shook his wrist to spin the zip strip to a more comfortable spot. “I’ve had rival stables try to break into the grounds, and you were the only ones to make it.”

“Still, with one Uzi and a parachute—” I started, and he held up a hand.

“Second, I’m not broke.” Trent reached for his shoes, wiggling one on, then the other. “Third, Landon doesn’t understand what makes Lucy important. Having her doesn’t ensure a following. Stealing her does. Landon didn’t steal Lucy, he used the law, and it won’t bring him as much political power as he thinks.” He hesitated, bringing a foot up to retie a shoe. “And last, if it wasn’t for you and Jenks, I never would’ve had Lucy in the first place.”

“Even so.” Somewhat calmer, I came closer, wishing they had a chair in here. “They’d listen to you if it wasn’t for me. Because of who I am and who I protect.” Glum, I sat beside him as he laced up his shoe. Smiling, he put a hand on my knee. Crap on toast, how does he make everything seem so easy?

“Demons?” Trent patted my knee. “It’s admirable. The vampires are simply afraid.”

My breath came faster as I flexed my hand. That hadn’t been ley line energy that had spooled from me to make that circle in Cormel’s office, it had been straight from the mystics I had stolen from the Goddess. “They’re right to be afraid,” I whispered, uneasy. “I don’t know why the demons haven’t started turning the people in front of them at the grocery store inside out. Where do you think they are?”

Head ****ed, Trent gazed about our small cell. “I think they’re sitting on a beach terrorizing sand crabs. That’s where I’d be if I’d just escaped from prison.” Rising, he stretched again. His dress shirt had come untucked, and it pegged my attraction meter.

Wrong time, wrong place, I thought glumly. “How long do you think they’re going to make us sit down here?”

Trent’s eyes met mine through the mirror as he finger-combed some continuity into his hair. “Oh, sunrise tomorrow, I think, when every vampire who gets his soul tonight suncides.” He arched his eyebrows at whoever was behind the glass before he turned to me.

“Then you think Landon will get enough support to bring the undead souls back?”

“Fear will push them into it.” He was tucking his shirt in. It looked like he was getting ready for something. “It won’t be long now,” he added as he looked at his watch. “I’d probably feel the charm down here if I wasn’t strapped.”

Frustrated, I got up. “I flinched. I was so worried about you being hurt that I wasn’t paying attention. And then, when I get Cormel where I want him, I chicken out.”

Eyes serious, Trent held both my arms to my sides, making me look at him. “I like you when you’re good.”

I pulled away and flopped down on the bed. “Great, that’s great,” I said sourly.

Trent hesitated for a moment, and then, with an odd, determined pace, he went to the sink. “Why don’t you take a nap. Just lie there and be quiet for a minute.”

My head turned and I stared at him. “Quiet?” I almost snarled. “You want me to take a nap? Ivy is somewhere down here . . .” My words faltered as he ran his fingers across the tiny lip over the mirror. “And you want me to take a nap,” I finished. “What are you doing?”

Trent’s shoulders stiffened. As I watched, he turned the water on full force, and steam billowed up, misting the mirror so I couldn’t see his face. “Washing up. Why don’t you just shut up? Your bitching isn’t helping anything.”

I’m bitching? “Excuse me?” I exclaimed as I sat up. “I seem to remember you in Cormel’s office, too. This was one of the dumbest ideas—” He wasn’t even listening to me, and my eyes narrowed, not in anger, but understanding. He was looking for bugs, the mirror eclipsed by steam. “One of the dumbest ideas I’ve ever let you talk me into!”

He smiled as he shook the water from his hands. “Will you shut up and go to sleep?”

I hesitated, and he made a motion for me to say something. “Go to hell, Trent,” I said, then kind of pushed on the bed to make the springs squeak as if I was rolling over.

Trent gave me a thumbs-up, and I carefully sat on the edge of the bed, not moving when he waved for me to stay. Crouching, he reached under the open sink, wedging out a tiny buttonlike object. Saying nothing, he carefully set it on the sink, next to the running water. There was no stopper, and the water continued to flow, filling it halfway up.

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Immediately he crossed the room, fingers on his lips as he went right to the back-left corner of the bed and found another stuck to the frame. This one went next to the sink as well, his eyes full of satisfaction. “That’s the last of them,” he said, his voice hushed.

“How did you know where they were?”

His shoulders rose and fell. “That’s what I’ve been doing for the last three hours.”

I pressed my lips. “You’ve just been lying on the cot for three hours.”

“I’ve been listening, trying to find them.”

I shifted down a smidgen when he came to sit beside me. “You can hear the circuitry? Damn, you’ve got good ears.” I knew that Jenks could hear circuitry, but elves?

“Given enough time.” He looked at his watch, grimacing. “It’s more like feeling the waves coming off them, like reverse sonar. I didn’t want to move until I found them all. Thanks for being so quiet. You really are something, you know? I was serious when I said most people would react badly. Thanks for that.”

“Well, it’s not the first time I’ve been in a cage,” I said saucily. “Got any carrots?”

He chuckled at the reminder of his once keeping me in a ferret cage. “God, I was stupid,” he said, shaking his head, and I touched his face, liking the feel of his bristles.

“We both were.” Grinning, I leaned in for a kiss, jerking back when the lights went out. “Was that you?” I said, my flush of good feeling gone.

“No.” His fingers found mine, and we didn’t move. “I guess they figured it out.” He sighed, and I gave his hand a squeeze.

“They wouldn’t turn off the lights unless they wanted to get back at us, right?”

Trent made a small noise that wasn’t agreement or disagreement, and a thin sliver of doubt wedged itself under my short-lived satisfaction. Maybe they turned the lights off not to disorient us, but so they could burst in and do something nasty.

“Ah, can you make a light?” Trent asked, his voice eerie coming out of the dark.

I froze, my thoughts zinging back to the mystics. He knew I had no contact with the lines down here. It was impossible for me to make a light. “No,” I said quickly, my fear finding a closer home than vampires possibly attacking us.

“Rachel, please,” he said, his arm slipping around my back as we sat on the edge of the bed in the dark. “I saw what happened upstairs. I know you’re not happy about it, but this isn’t a bad thing, especially if Landon breaks the lines.”

“No, I can’t!” I exclaimed, but he knew I was lying, and he pulled me into him.

“Can you hear them?” he whispered.

“No.”

He was silent, then, “Are you lying to me?”

“Can’t you tell?” I said bitterly.

“Not in the dark,” he said, a hint of a laugh in his voice. “Make a light, and I’ll let you know.” His arm slowly fell from me, and I felt a moment of loss until he found my hands and cupped them in his. I felt our balance equalize, and then my breath caught when a faint glimmer within our cupped hands grew and blossomed.

“Ta na shay, su meera,” Trent whispered, and I shivered as I felt him siphon energy from me to him, and then into the charm, using me like a ley line.

“How . . . ?,” I whispered, and the light became brighter, bright enough to see his expression pinched with worry and pride.

Damn it, I didn’t have time to be fighting the Goddess, the demons, and the vampires, not to mention the court battle convincing twelve prejudiced elves that leaving your children in the care of a demon was not child abuse. But what pained me the most was that this—the mystics making our hands glow—was why Al wouldn’t talk to me.

“Don’t let go,” Trent said, his fingers tightening on me so the charm wouldn’t break. “Oh, Rachel, it’s going to be okay,” he said, pulling me into a one-armed hug. “I promise.”

My eyes closed. The energy flowing through us somehow felt transparent without the usual taint of ever-after. It occurred to me that if we just left and went to that island in the Pacific no one would care if I had mystics in me or not.

“Are they speaking to you?” Trent asked, the thread of fear he tried to hide sparking through me, crushing the want for sand and sun and solitude.

I pulled back, feeling his absence keenly. My fear was reflected in his eyes, strengthened by love. “No, but they can hear me.”

He blinked fast, his hold on my hands tightening. “It’s okay,” he started, and all the fear and anger I’d shoved down boiled up.

“It’s not okay!” I shouted, and the light redoubled, making shadows in the small room. “Did you see Al’s face when he saw me? Saw the mystics?” I took my hands from his, and the light continued to glow within them. I didn’t know what spell it was since it wasn’t aura based. I guess when you’re line energy, it doesn’t matter. “They’re going to kill me.”

“No one is going to kill you,” he insisted. “Besides, I like the way your aura looks.” I tried to smile as he gave me a kiss, his lips finding mine with determination. “And the way you smell with them in your hair,” he whispered, fingers firmly at the back of my neck. “Why do you even care what they think about you anyway?”

My eyes closed, and I breathed him in, wondering how it could be so good and so bad at the same time. “Because they’re the only group of people who aren’t afraid of me.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure of that,” a low voice growled.

My eyes shot to the closed door, then the sink. “Al!” ****, how long had he been there? I panicked, the light glowing like a neon sign of guilt.

Trent stood, tension pulling him ramrod straight. “Where are my girls?”

Al’s features creased as he scowled at Trent. “You are late. I told you I had to leave at six P.M. exactly, and it’s after that now.”

Trent took a step forward. “Where are Lucy and Ray?” he asked again, and Al finally took his eyes off me.

“In their beds,” he said, thumbnail running under the nail of his index finger.

“You left them alone?” I blurted out, and Al rolled his eyes.

“Nothing will happen in the time it takes to tell you to find someone else to watch them.”

I stood, setting the ball of light on the bed. “It’s not like you went to the bathroom, Al, you’re across the city. You can’t leave them like that! Even if they are sleeping!”

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Al’s face was ugly when he pulled his eyes from the ball of light. “I’m three seconds away from them,” he said with a sneer. “It would take me longer to take a piss than to jump back to them. My God, you’re covered with elf ****. How can you stand yourself?”

I dropped back, ashamed and embarrassed. Trent stood beside me, a protective gleam in his eye. “We’re a little busy. You think you could watch them for a bit longer?”

Al ran his eyes up and down me again in disgust before turning to the sink and the still-running water. “I see how busy you are. No. I have to go to work.”

“Work?” I echoed, surprised. Seriously? Then I pulled my thoughts back from how much damage a working demon could do. “We’re stuck here,” I said, gesturing. “You can’t leave them until we get back. It’s the babysitter’s creed. You have to wait until the parents come home, even if they’re late.”

Al picked up one of the bugs between two careful fingers. “Ellasbeth is there,” he said, as if the bug was a mic. “She’s a parent.”

“Ellasbeth!” Trent’s hand fell from me. “Go back! Stop them! Al, she filed for custody on the basis that leaving them with you is child abuse!”

Al spun, the bug in his fingers crushed to nothing as the sting of that soaked in. “Just. So,” he said succinctly, the pain of betrayal simmering in the back of his goat-slitted eyes.

“Al!” I begged him. “You can’t leave them with her!”

“I don’t f**king care, Rachel!” he shouted, and I stumbled back. “I am a demon!”

I lifted my chin, frustration making me reckless. “Liar.”

Al’s eyes almost glowed in the light from my mystic-powered globe. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.” Trent was edging toward me as Al came forward, and I stood firm. “Now either get your butt back there until we can get ourselves out of here, or get us out of here yourself!”

“Ah, Rachel . . .” Trent was wincing, and I stiffened.

Al was toe to toe with me, and my knees shook. I stared up at him, not willing to kowtow to him anymore. So I had mystics in me. I didn’t ask for them, and they were coming in handy.

“Get out of here yourself,” he said, and I stifled a jerk when he flicked a strand of my hair. “You are disgusting,” he said with a sneer. “Slimy with elf ****. Covered in them. How do you stand yourself?”

It wasn’t really a question, but at least he wasn’t throttling me anymore.

“And you should be glad of it,” Trent said.

Al spun to him, and I took a grateful breath of air when his eyes left me. “Glad?” the demon spat, and I swear the hem of his trousers shook with his anger.

“Yes, glad,” Trent said. “Landon is trying to shove the lot of you back into the ever-after and break the lines.”

A low growl of disbelief and dismissal came from Al. “Never happen.”

Trent eased forward to come between me and Al. “What if it did? The only magic will be Goddess based. You’d have to learn wild magic or stay helpless.”

Al’s eyes flicked to me, and I shrank back. Yep, I could do elven magic. So could they, but they’d have to admit that it was stronger than theirs, or at least more versatile. The chances of that were on a par with, say . . . us making it out of here alive. That is, possible, but only after a lot of hurt and effort. “You’ve made me late,” he said darkly.

“Hey! Al!” I shouted as he grabbed both of us by the shoulder, but he was only jumping us out, and I felt nothing from the mystics even as the shadowed darkness of the room seemed to fold in on itself, replaced with the brighter warm glow of Trent’s upstairs living room.

“Thank you,” I breathed, and then my jaw dropped. “What did you let them do?” I said as I looked over the mess the living room now was.

“Ah . . . ,” the demon said, clearly surprised as well.

Trent shoved Al’s grip off him. “Lucy? Ray!” he shouted as he darted into the nursery.

“Three seconds?” I said tightly, striding after Trent.

“Well, ah . . . ,” Al stammered.

“Rachel!” Trent shouted from the nursery, chilling me. “Call the switchboard. Tell them we need a med team.”

****. I shoved past Al to look into the once-cheerful room. Fear made my pulse fast, but the room looked normal apart from Trent kneeling beside Quen, prone on the floor beside one of the toddler beds. Memories of seeing Quen dying in a field after trying to protect the woman he loved flashed through me.

But Quen was still conscious, and a hand reached up to grip Trent’s shoulder. “We found them alone,” he said, pain-filled eyes touching on Al briefly. “Ellasbeth had a court order and eight magic users. Jon . . . followed them. He wasn’t hurt. Better than me, I suppose.”

Better? No. But he was more savage.

“Where?” Trent demanded as he helped Quen sit.

“He’s very upset, Sa’han,” Quen choked out, then touched his mouth to have his fingers come away red with blood. “That’s not good.”

“Where!” Trent asked again, and Quen eyed him with a hot, fervent gaze.

“If we knew that, he wouldn’t have to follow.” Quen winced as he got his legs straight and tried to get up. “Ahhhhh, that’s going to hurt tomorrow.”

Trent’s exhalation was loud as he stood, arm down to help Quen stand as he looked at me. “Did you call them?” he asked me.

“No.” I turned to leave, needing to dodge around Al. “Don’t you have to go to work or something?” I said bitterly. The girls weren’t in any danger, but it still pissed me off.

“Uh . . .” Al held up a finger in thought, but his confusion was coated with guilt.

“Whatever.” Was it zero for the switchboard, or one? I thought, not remembering in my panic.

I reached for the phone. Pain ripped through me, hard and fast. Gasping, I fell, the shallow stairs cutting into me as I landed. My breath came out of me in a pained groan. Eyes wide in agony, I could do nothing as my hand shook on the upper tile floor, outstretched for the phone and cramping as fire burned along my long muscles.

It was a curse, the same smothering black that had found me on the West Coast, now rolling over me with the unstoppable strength of waves against a cliff. A bright red seeped from a cut on my hand, the sharp throb hardly noticed over the spike driving through my head with each panicked pulse of my heart. The curse dove deep, the way easy for having been in me before. It was stronger, more focused, and I took a gasping breath, feeling it tear me.

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“Rachel?” I heard Trent call, and my eyes found Al.

He was down as well, eyes open and glazed as he fought the same thing. Synchronized to the beat of ancient drums, we both clenched as the curse dug into our souls and began to pull.

“Trent . . . ,” I tried to shout, but it came out in a whisper. My eyes opened, finding the clock in the kitchen. Sundown. This was the elves.

My teeth clenched. “No,” I gasped, pulling my knees forward and inching toward Al. I might be able to fight this off, but Al . . . Al had no escape. “Not. Al!” I groaned, trying to get up the two stairs between us. My hand shook as it stretched out. Grasping. Reaching. I could not . . . breathe!

“No!” I said again, dragging myself forward until I finally touched his hand.

My breath came in cleanly, and I dove into his mind, finding the toehold the elves’ curse had. Not him! I said once more, wedging the curse out of him with the clear, pure energy from the mystics.

With a resounding crack, Al’s presence snapped from the elven curse. The how of it flew on wings of thought to the rest of the demon collective, and I felt them all break from it.

For an instant I hung in the demon collective, seeing them all as individuals, their fears, their pain, the tiny slip of hope they allowed themselves. Smothering them like a fog was the elves’ plan of how they were going to imprison them and break the lines, committing the entire demon collective to a slow, terrifying death as the ever-after shrank to nothing and finally vanished.

And then they realized that they’d escaped once more.

Rage filled me, not mine but no less potent. With one thought, the demon collective bounced the curse back into the elves.

No! I demanded, overwhelmed as the elves spinning the curse were struck by the demonic anger, swamping them and turning their magic against them, snuffing it out to send their intent coiling up like a plume of smoke from an extinguished candle.

No! Stop! I demanded as the demons gleefully rolled the elves about, disorienting them so they could affix the curse to them and shove them into the lines and oblivion.

I reached for a frightened presence, trying to save just one . . . But the elf fought me, thinking I was trying to harm him. Claws raked through my aura, and I had to let go. Stop! Stop this now! I demanded, and it was as if someone backhanded me, sending me flying into nothing.

“Rachel!”

My eyes flashed open as Trent touched me. Mystics swarmed over us, blanketing the fire in my thoughts. I couldn’t hear them, but they could hear me. Stop this! I screamed into my thoughts, and with the clean stroke of a knife-sharp thought, the mystics severed the demon collective from the dewar.

Beside me on the floor, Al gasped.

“Oh God, that hurt,” I breathed, then groaned when Trent yanked me to him, almost crushing me as he sat on the highest step and held me in his arms.

“Are you okay?” he said, fingers splayed behind my head as he held me. “They burned you! Look at me! Rachel, are you okay?”

He let go just enough to see me, and groggy, I peered up at him, wondering why my skin wasn’t red. It felt like I’d been burned. “’S okay,” I lisped. “I’m here.” I started to shake, cold though my skin burned. The mystics were thick. Everything hurt. “I’m fine. I’m okay. Look. I can tap a line and everything.”

I didn’t tap a line, but my hair floated as if I was, and the burn ebbed to a familiar tingle. “Where are the girls?” I said as I ran a thumb under his eye. For crying out loud, he was worried about me.

“With Ellasbeth, I presume,” he said, and my gaze flicked over his shoulder to Quen staggering out from the nursery.

Al picked himself up, stiffly tugging at his lace cuffs and brushing cookie crumbs off his crushed velvet. He was avoiding me even as he stood there, listing slightly. He had to see the mystics on me, making my skin tingle. Had the collective seen them? But how could they not?

“Thank God you’re okay,” Trent said, crushing me to him again.

“The girls,” I protested.

His breath came fast, and he held me tighter, so close I couldn’t see Al. “Ellasbeth has them, not a terrorist. We’ll get them back.”

Quen coughed, and I pulled back to see him leaning heavily against Ceri’s old high-backed chair. He held his ribs, and his nose was bleeding. “You are a poor babysitter, Al.”

Al opened his mouth to say something, and Trent gave me a little shake.

“How am I supposed to let you go off and do things when you might be pulled out of my reality like that?” he said, and I winced as his aura seemed to tingle through mine.

“I don’t feel very good,” I said, the sensation of being overly full making me ill.

Trent tensed when Al leaned over to peer into my eyes, his hands on his knees as his back hunched. “I’m not surprised,” he said dryly, giving me a final grimace before he slowly, almost painfully, walked down into the living room. “May I use your phone?”

Surprised, Trent’s grip on me eased. “Sure,” he said cautiously, and I took the tissue that Quen handed me.

“What does a demon need with a phone?” I said as I eased myself out of Trent’s lap and just sat there on the stair, heart pounding and wishing the mystics would go check on something. Anything. Would just leave me alone.

Al gave me an askance look, hesitated as he peered over his glasses at the phone as if never having used one before, and then began punching buttons. My nose was bleeding, and I dabbed at it. “Al?”

“What,” he said flatly, turning to stand sideways to me.

I cautiously brought up my second sight, relieved that it didn’t hurt. His aura was patchy but enough of it was there that he could do magic. Trent’s glowed with agitation, and Quen’s was dark with regret and guilt. “I’m glad you weren’t pulled back.”

He frowned at me, then turned his back on us. “Good evening. This is Al.” He hesitated. “Then why did you give me this number? You’d rather I just pop in?” he drawled suggestively.

Trent sat on the step with me. Leaning over, he whispered, “Who?,” and I shrugged.

“E-e-e-exactly.” Al looked back at us with an uncomfortable expression. “I’m informing you that circumstances require that I will not be able to clock in this evening at the required time.” I froze as Al’s eyes met mine for a moment. “As a matter of fact, I am, so I would appreciate it if my restitution would reflect that fact.”

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Restitution? As in paycheck?

“Not long,” Al said, again looking at his nails. “Fifteen minutes ought to do it.” He smiled wickedly. “Thank you. You too.”

You could almost hear the silence crash down as he hung up the phone. “Where did you learn your phone etiquette?” I asked. My long muscles ached, and I rubbed at my calves.

Al fluffed the lace at his throat. “I had a craving for secretaries in the eighties until the hairspray began to catch in my teeth. Excuse me.”

Quen pulled himself upright, the tissue wadded up in his fist. “Take me with you.”

“Take you?” I said, becoming alarmed. “Where are you going?”

Al made a face at me, then looked at Quen. “Why should I?”

“Because you lost them,” Quen barked, and my heart leapt. Al was going to retrieve the girls? Why? Why did he care?

“You’re going to get them?” I tried to stand, but by the time I managed it, Al and Quen were gone.

I spun, reaching for Trent when my balance left me. “You think?” I said.

“I don’t know.” Trent steadied me. “He did lose them.”

My pulse hammered. “And they expect us to just sit here and wait?”

“Well, he did say fifteen minutes.”

“I can’t sit here for fifteen minutes not knowing. I have to—” I wavered on my feet, breathless. Trent’s hand on mine gripped harder, and a hand cupped under my elbow.

“You’re as cold as ice. You need a bath.”

“Trent . . . ,” I protested as he helped me up the last stair and aimed me to his bedroom. His tub was bigger than the one in the guest bedroom. “I can’t take a bath. The girls . . .”

But he just kept pushing me. “A demon, Quen, and Jon have gone to get them. I’m more worried about Ellasbeth and Landon. You need to learn the art of delegation.”

I snorted, scuffing slowly across the carpet. Actually, a bath sounded great, and I winced when I thought of everything that had happened between now and my last shower. “Hey, I’m sorry about Lucy and Ray. I never thought he’d leave them like that.”

Trent pushed the door open with his foot. The room was dark, the vid screen on one wall showing a live feed of the orchard, dim with sunset. “He was in a hard place,” he said softly.

“Hard place!”

“He knew you were in trouble, and he loves you, Rachel.”

I stopped dead in my tracks, pulling out of Trent’s grip and putting a hand on the wall beside the bathroom door. “He does not!”

Trent’s smile was easy and gentle as he reached a hand past me to flick on the light. “He does,” he said as he slipped an arm behind my back and breezily ushered me in. “Not romantically, or even that of a father for a daughter, but he does. I think he sees something in you that he lost a long time ago and still mourns. He knew what would happen if he left the girls, and he went to rescue you instead.”

Rescue me instead? I thought, feeling colder yet.

“That we were late in getting back was just an excuse to hide his fear for you. I would’ve done the same. The girls aren’t in any real danger, even if Ellasbeth has them. Not like you.”

Trent turned on the water, jiggling the taps until he was satisfied. “You think . . . ,” I murmured, and he straightened, shaking the water from his hand.

“I know.”

My expression must have shown my panic because he took my shoulders. “Don’t read too much into it. It could have been coincidence.”

“Right.” I couldn’t meet his eyes as a sharp hail came from the living room and Ray’s crying suddenly pulled at my heart.

“I’ll be right back,” he said, almost jogging out of the bathroom.

“Be right back,” I muttered as I turned the taps off. Glancing in the mirror, I shifted a strand of hair out of my eyes and sighed at my reflection before I pulled my shoulders up and tried to walk as if I didn’t hurt everywhere.

It was a frightening thing to have the love of someone so determined, resolute, and unafraid of committing a great wrong for his personal right. The love of two men so determined, actually. I hoped I survived it.

Chapter 22

Bare feet scuffing the carpet, I halted just outside Trent’s room. Trent was in the kitchen, taking Ray from Quen. The little girl was crying softly, clearly distressed. Al stood stoically beside the small breakfast nook, looking awkward in that suit from the forties. Quen was beside him, his weight on one foot and nursing a new bruise. Jon was with them, and a knot eased even if the tall, sour-looking man was red faced and furious.

But it was on Al that my attention lingered. I wondered at the shift of clothes and if what Trent had said about his making decisions based on a deeper feeling—his loss of something he now saw in me. Had he come to save me knowing he could get Lucy and Ray at his leisure?

And then it hit me. Lucy wasn’t here.

I crossed the sunken living room, stomach light and uneasy. “Where’s Lucy?”

Jon tensed, his long face becoming ugly in hatred. “He left her!” he snarled, and I reached for Ceri’s high-backed chair, my skin prickling from a heavy draw from the line bisecting Trent’s grounds.

Trent backpedaled toward the stairs, his hand protectively over Ray’s head. Quen moved forward, first blocking Jon’s outthrust, glowing hand, and then grabbing his wrist, wrenching Jon to kneel with his arm pulled behind him, almost snapping his elbow. Al stood there, suspiciously quiet, his belligerent expression hiding what I thought was guilt.

“He left her there!” Jon exclaimed, his short graying hair hiding his face, turned toward the floor. Ray’s voice rose up in distress, higher than I’d ever heard it. “He left her there with that monster of a woman!” Pain making his eyes stand out, he looked up past his bangs to Al. “Demon or no, I will kill you for that.”

My eyebrows rose as I remembered the savagery with which Jon had attacked Ellasbeth’s people when they’d threatened the girls. Perhaps I was lucky to have gotten only pencils poked into me when I’d been a mink in a cage.

Trent’s lips were a thin angry line. Ray was miserable in his arms as she clung to him. He wasn’t saying anything, so I stomped over to Al, keeping clear of Quen and Jon from a faint sense of prudence. “Hey! You lost both of them. Why did you only bring one back?”

Al’s gaze came back from Ray, his eyes flicking from me to Trent. “I have to go. My compensation, please.”