[English] THE WITCH WITH NO NAME

The Witch With No Name
The Witch With No Name Page 100



My jaw dropped. “For babysitting?” I said, glancing back to Quen wrestling Jon back in*****bmission. “Where’s Lucy?”

Trent tried to be calm as he jiggled Ray, but his red ears gave him away. “I want to know if it’s because you’re angry with Rachel, or if you’re actually trying to work within the law. Al?”

I jerked upright, spinning to them. “Law?” I blurted out, remembering that ridiculous claim Ellasbeth was filing. “You mean that lousy scrap of paper? Al! Are you nuts? That is full of crap and you know it!”

Al’s shoulders stiffened as if taking on a burden. “She had a legal right,” he said softly, and Jon grunted in pain, almost on the floor under Quen’s nerve hold. “A legal paper and a scary woman from social services. Even a babysitter has to honor that. I have to leave. I’m late.”

I reached out, jerking my hand back when he spun at my faint pull on his sleeve. “Not yet,” I said, backing up. “You still have three minutes before you have to be at work. What do you do, Al? Are you Mickey D’s newest fry cook?”

Okay, that may have been a little bitter, but how could he honor a stupid scrap of paper that was bull to begin with?

Trent patted Ray, the little girl finally having stopped crying. “If I’m not mistaken, he works for . . . the I.S.?” Trent guessed.

“The FIB, actually,” Al said, and I sank down into a chair at the breakfast nook. “I chose the FIB over the I.S. because the I.S. currently functions on decisions from old white vampires who have lost touch with the ever-changing social structure and are slowly losing power. Progress and all.”

Thunderstruck, I blinked. “You work for the FIB?”

Al tugged his suit coat straight. “I accepted a request to investigate the damage to your church initially, but I like it and I needed a job on the rental agreement other than former emperor of China.” Trent was chuckling, but I failed to see anything funny.

“I get to push people around, poke my nose where I want, and no one stops me. At least not more than once,” Al finished with a familiar evil smile.

Tired, I rubbed my forehead. “Did they give you a bright shiny badge?”

Al flushed, but I figured they had when he touched a breast pocket. That explained the weird questions he’d asked me earlier. Maybe he’d tell me how my case was going if I asked.

“I think that’s commendable,” Trent said, and Al’s face twitched. “Quen, I left my wallet at Cormel’s.”

My God, he was going to pay the demon.

With a final pinch to tell Jon to behave himself, Quen let go of Jon. The taller man rocked into a sitting position, rubbing his shoulder as he slowly got up. Quen reached for his wallet, reminding me that my shoulder bag with my phone, keys, and splat gun were still at Cormel’s as well.

“Commendable,” I grumped. “Like me trying to get the world to accept demons.”

Trent took the cash that Quen handed him, easily jiggling Ray on his hip to have two hands free. “Who else will keep them in line?” he said as he handed most of it to Al. “You?”

Elbow on the table, I shook my head. “Heck no. Al, you can have the job.”

Trent faced the demon. “Thank you for the return of Ray,” he said calmly, but I could tell he was annoyed, not at Al, but himself.

“I can’t believe you’re paying him for that,” I grumped.

“Rachel . . . ,” Trent admonished, and I stood. Ray was reaching for me, and I went to get her. She looked miserable, far too aware of what was going on for her age.

Al looked at the folded money in his grip, never opening it to count it. “This is the damnedest way to run an economy.”

I rocked Ray, the little girl snuffling pitifully, her grip on me tight and endearing. “Better than blackening your soul.”

Al’s expression became blank. “I fail to see the difference.”

Trent gave Jon a sharp look to be quiet. “I know what you did. Thank you. I would have done the same. I’ll get Lucy back on my own.”

The demon’s face twitched. “It was an accident,” he said flatly. “If you get the paperwork that returns Lucy to you, ah, just summon me.”

Had he just acknowledged that he cared? And what was with the request *****mmon him? My anger faltered. Perhaps the situation was bothering him more than I realized. And besides, it was impossible to be angry when holding Ray.

“It would be an honor to work with you again.” Trent held out his hand, and Al took it, leaning in over their clasped fingers and jerking Trent off balance and into him.

“Don’t think this means anything,” Al said, then shoved Trent back. Al nodded to me, glanced at Ray, and vanished in an inward-falling haze of ever-after. A scuff behind me pulled my attention to Jon and Quen. I couldn’t tell what had happened, but both men were angry, Quen still favoring that one foot.

“Huh,” Trent said introspectively as he flexed his hand. “How about that.” His gaze clearing, he smiled at Ray, still on my hip. “It’s okay, sweet pea. We’ll get your sister back.”

I frowned as I realized the little girl had a silver flower in her grip that she hadn’t had before Al left. There was no way I was leaving Lucy where she was, court order or not. “I don’t have a problem breaking the law,” I muttered. “Quen, you want to ride shotgun?”

Quen jolted into motion, and Trent raised his hand. “Stop,” Trent said, his voice tired. “Please stop.”

I scowled and Trent reached for Ray. “Jon, will you put Ray to bed for us?”

He was still waiting for me to hand him Ray, and the little girl gave me a big sloppy kiss, her tiny arms clinging around my neck with a feeling of trust I was loath to let go of. She smelled like lemon and sea grass, and her cheek was cool when I kissed it. I gave her to Jon, and the tall man made no move to take her to the nursery.

Seeing our determination, Trent shifted his weight and rubbed his forehead. “No one is going after Lucy right now,” he said, and Quen dryly cleared his throat. “She isn’t in any immediate danger. As ugly as Ellasbeth is in her efforts to gain her, she isn’t going to harm Lucy. I’m more concerned about the immediate threat of the dewar.”

“Exactly,” I said. “With Lucy, they can do whatever they want. We need to get her back.”

Ray was reaching for Trent, and Jon passed her to him so she could give him a good-night kiss. I watched his face, seeing the pain flash over it even as he held the little girl. Hand against her back, he looked at us in turn. “After having their own curse bounced back at them, I don’t think they’ll ever get the support to destroy the demons, Lucy or no.”

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“Maybe,” I admitted grudgingly. But their fear would eventually turn to anger, and then action.

“It’s late,” Trent said as he gave Ray to Quen, the little girl reaching to go to her other daddy. “I’m going to have a quick shower and catch up on my sleep. I want to be up an hour before sunrise tomorrow. Quen?”

“Yes, Sa’han,” the dark elf said, his manner subdued as Ray gave him a little-girl kiss.

I eyed him and Jon suspiciously. I wouldn’t have put it past them to sneak out of here on their own, direct request or not. “That’s it, then?” I said sourly.

Trent smiled, but I could tell he was dead tired. “Delegation, Rachel. It’s how things get done.” He hesitated, frowning. “Or forgotten. Which reminds me. Quen, could you move the horses in? Cormel threatened them.”

I could tell by Quen’s expression he was thinking the same thing I was. Busywork to keep him occupied until morning? “Credible?” he asked, craggy voice catching as he handed Ray back to Jon, putting her full circle.

“He’s going after Tulpa to cut off my access to the lines while underground, but he’ll take out the entire herd to get him. Chances are Cormel is going to be busy with the returning souls, but I don’t want to risk it.”

Quen was scowling, his midnight plans probably foiled. “Yes, Sa’han. I’ll forward all your calls to your secondary phone.” He turned to me, inclining his head with an unknown emotion darkening his mood. “Rachel,” he said flatly, and then he turned to the stairs, moving slowly to hide his limp.

I wished I had a secondary phone. Trent was standing a little too close, and I looked up. “Your bath?” he prompted.

“I can’t believe you’re going to take a nap,” I said as I glanced at the clock. “The only reason the dewar failed was because the sun was down and the lines were flowing contrary to shoving someone into the ever-after. Soon as it comes up, they’ll try again. And what about all the undead? We’ve got surface demons running around again. I can feel it!”

Trent’s hand went behind my back. I would’ve protested as he escorted me forward except I liked his hand there. “They didn’t fail because of the flow of the lines. They failed because of you,” he said, almost whispering it.

The nursery door shut with a soft and certain snick that Jon somehow made sound accusing. My steps into the lower living room slowed. Trent had asked Jon to put the little girl to bed to try to bring him down from his anger and rage. Suddenly I felt a lot more worried.

“Ahh,” I hedged, not wanting to call it a night quite yet. “Can I use your phone to call my mom before she storms the I.S.?”

Trent’s hand made tingles as it slipped from me. “Sure. Good idea.”

“Thanks. I’ll be right in.”

He gave me a faint smile, hesitating at the door to his rooms. “Take your time. I’ll be in the shower.”

The couch pillows were on the floor, and I picked them up, replacing them before I sat down with the phone. The memory of being attacked washed over me, and I quashed the surge of anxiety. Trent had left the door open, unusual for the privacy-loving man. It was a clear indication that he was on edge and didn’t want anything closed between us. The shower went on as I punched in my mom’s cell number, and the faint soft sounds of running water were soothing.

My eyes roved over Trent’s living room as I waited. It wasn’t that bad, especially compared to the ruination of my church, and as the call connected, I stood to fix one of the pictures. I took a breath as the line clicked open, but my mom was faster.

“Trent?” her voice came, worried and fast. “Where are you? Is Rachel with you?”

I smiled, feeling good all of a sudden. “It’s me, Mom. We’re good. Al helped us.”

“Your demon?” she blurted out, and my heart leapt as Jenks’s wings became obvious in the background.

“Mom? Is that Jenks? Can I talk to him?” Thank all that was holy. Something was going right for once.

“I thought the demons were pissed at you,” my mom was saying, but I hardly heard her. Ivy. I could hear Ivy! She was okay? She was with my mom!

“Thank God you called,” my mom was saying. “Ivy’s made an unholy mess of my front sitting room. Sweet Jesus, that woman has a temper when planning things. I don’t know how Nina puts up with her, the sweet dear.”

“Mom! Let me talk to Ivy,” I said, then lowered my voice before I woke Ray up. “Mom!”

But she wasn’t listening, hand over the phone with a muffled, irritated “What? No,” and then an indignant “Hey!”

“Rachel?” Ivy’s soft gray voice filtered through the phone, and I closed my eyes, holding the warm plastic to my ear and almost rocking in relief. Jenks was there, too, swearing at Tink, the sun, and her unmentionables.

“I’m fine. I’m at Trent’s,” I said, choking up. “I thought Cormel had you. They called on your phone.”

“I lost it at the square. David got us away. Why did you go to the tower? Rachel, you could have been killed.”

Tears warmed my eyes, and I wiped them away before they could fall. She was okay. I wouldn’t have to live with the guilt of her languishing in a cell because of me. “I thought they had you . . . ,” I said, sounding weepy. “Jenks couldn’t find you. We thought—” My words choked off, and I just smiled. Her phone. All they had had was her phone. Jenks’s wing clatter sounded like static over the line as he hovered by the receiver, and all I could do was grip the phone and smile.

“So you were going to rescue us? Of all the unplanned, thoughtless—” Ivy started, but I could hear the relief in her voice, and I picked up a vase of flowers, setting it upright.

“Yeah, I love you, too.” They were okay. All of them. Slowly my shoulders relaxed.

“Rache, we were coming for you,” Jenks said, guilt thick in his voice.

“You did good,” I said, reluctant to tell them why Al had gotten me out. “Ah, I’m going to stay here tonight if that’s okay.”

“Back off!” I heard Ivy admonish Jenks, and I knelt to pick up the scattered stack of children’s books. “At Trent’s?” she said, her irritation clearly not directed at me. “Good. Don’t come back into Cincy or the Hollows yet. It’s crazy here, and you can’t do anything. Now that I know you’re okay, I’m going to head back to my folks’ with Nina.”

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My motion to collect the crayons hesitated. “Maybe I should come in.”

“Tink’s little candy ass, Ivy, I told you not to tell her that!”

“I said back off! I can’t hear when your dust hits the receiver!” Ivy said off the phone, and then to me, “We’re fine. Nina crashed, but I think she’s going to be okay now. There’s no reason to come back until it’s safe.”

When was it ever safe? I sat down on the edge of the couch, guilt bringing my shoulders to my ears. “I’m so sorry, but you can’t let your mom find her soul. Every vampire who does is going to commit suncide in the morning.”

“She . . .” Ivy hesitated, and I tensed.

“Ivy?” Crap on toast, how did Ivy’s mom find her soul that fast? It was just after sundown!

“She’s okay,” Ivy rushed on, but I could hear the heartache in her. “She’s never wanted her soul before, but after seeing others find them . . .” Ivy’s words trailed off, and I pressed the phone to my ear, heart aching. “Rachel, she wants her soul so badly. She knows it will kill her, but she wants it. She’s hurting. I’ve never seen her in pain like this before.”

“I’m so sorry,” I whispered. Lucy’s doll was half under the couch, and I pulled it out, propping it carefully in the crook of the couch. “Maybe . . .” But there was no maybe. If she got her soul, she would suffer until she brought her soul, body, and mind back in balance—that is, until she committed suncide and died for good.

Ivy was silent, thinking. “It should settle down in the morning, right?”

Or turn really, really bad. I clicked off the table lamp, wanting the muffling gray of shadow. “I, ah, don’t have my phone anymore either,” I said, reluctant to hang up but having nothing more to say. “Just call Trent to get hold of me.” Unnoticed until now, the faint glow of the downstairs bounced against the ceiling to light everything in a soothing haze.

“Trent’s number. Got it. Call me before you get on the roads. I’ll let you know where it’s safe to meet.”

This was bad. “Ivy . . .”

“Stay there,” she said, voice hard. “I mean it. We’re fine.”

She was down to three-word sentences. Great.

“Yeah, we’re fine, Rache,” Jenks said, almost shouting into the phone. “Take a night off from saving the world for once, huh? We got this!”

My fingers were cramping, they were so tight on the phone. “Tell my mom bye for me. I’ll be up before sunrise if you need me.”

“Me too,” Ivy said softly. “Bye.”

“Talk to you then.” I didn’t hang up, and there was a telling hesitation as both of us sat there saying nothing, just . . . silent.

“Well, hang up already!” Jenks said, and I sighed when the phone clicked off. Guilt tugged at me as I set the phone down. Guilt, but what could I do? I had a lot of things I was capable of, but until I had a direction, a place to aim my frustration at, it would be for naught. I wasn’t good at waiting, and now I had nothing to do until sunrise.

The doll looked lonely, and I pulled her onto my lap, holding her to my middle as if she were real. The undead with their souls were going *****ncide. Every last one of them. I couldn’t stop it. As soon as enough of the vampire masters were dead, the real battle between the elves and the demons would begin.

The soft sounds of Jon singing to Ray filtered out into the soothing gray, and the occasional clatter from downstairs gave evidence of Quen’s business. The shower had been off awhile, and I wondered how much Trent had heard. Hugging the doll, I looked over the familiar shapes and shadows of Trent’s life and wondered if I could fit in here—if I dared to try to belong to something not of my making. Or if I would just blow it all to hell.

Trent’s silhouette eased into the doorway, backlit by the soft glow of a bedside lamp. The sight of him drying his hair almost made me cry. I wanted to belong to this so badly, but I was afraid I’d bring only more heartache. Look what I’d done to Ivy. To Jenks.

“I overheard you talking to Ivy. She’s okay?”

I nodded. “She was with David all this time. Cormel only had her phone.” He had lied, twisted me into coming to him, played upon my emotions because he didn’t have any.

Trent was silent, then, “You want to go home?”

My head dropped to my fingers, clenched around the doll. His voice was low, holding emotion for me—about me—because of me. “No,” I whispered as I set the doll in her corner.

He didn’t move, looking lost as he stood there in his robe. “I wasn’t thinking about anything other than preparing for tomorrow,” he said, his voice moving up and down like music. “I can take you home. You have other people who need you. Jenks, Ivy, Bis.”

My shoulders hunched as I felt as if I’d been punched in the gut. I wanted to be here. I wanted to be there. Fear threatened to swamp me just thinking about what I’d do if something happened to Trent. He always seemed so in control, so capable. Unfortunately his confident past was starting to get him in trouble in his shaky present. A mere six months ago, Cormel would never have dared to restrain Trent.

Trent tossed the towel to a chair. “Rachel?”

My head snapped up as the door to the nursery softly opened. Jon came out, moving like a shadow or a thought soon forgotten. His long face held no expression as he took in me sitting on the couch and Trent in the doorway. “Excuse me, Sa’han,” he said as the door shut behind him. “I’ll help Quen oversee the horses being brought in.”

Trent scrubbed his scalp with his fingers, looking so much like I wanted him to be that it hurt. “Thank you.”

A lump had formed in my throat, and I swallowed hard as Jon gave me a last evil look before he went downstairs. I’d never seen Trent’s underground stables, but apparently he had an entire arena to practice his horsemanship in at a pleasant sixty-five degrees even in the winter.

“I’ll get dressed.” Motions abrupt, Trent turned away.

“Trent,” I called, and he stopped short at the guilt in my voice. I said nothing when he came to join me when I gestured helplessly. He sighed when he sat down on the couch, smelling of soap and meadow and spiced wine.

He was tired, and I looked at our hands twined together. “I don’t know how you do it,” I said. “Going to sleep whenever you get the chance.”

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Trent smiled, his thumb rubbing my palm both rough and gentle. “It comes from trying to live with a human clock for most of my life.” His arm went around me in a sideways hug. “I’m sorry. I was selfish to try to keep you here. Much of this feels like my doing.”

“You haven’t done anything,” I said, leaning into him as his grip on me eased.

“That’s just it. I feel as if I’ve been more of a hindrance than anything. I really thought we could walk in there and still get back out.”

I gave his fingers a squeeze. “And you got caught. I know the feeling. Don’t worry about it. How were you to know that Cormel . . .” I stopped and bit my lip. That your clout was so damaged by me that it couldn’t keep you safe anymore.

“My selfish desires screwed up the alliance that would have united the dewar and the enclave under one voice.” His head was down and his words were soft as he gave voice to long-held guilt.

Dropping my head onto his shoulder, I stared at nothing. “The dewar would have divided anyway, and you’d be married to Ellasbeth,” I said, and I actually felt him shudder.

“No. You’re right,” he said quickly. “But no one is listening to me anymore.”

I smiled in the dark, my fingers tracing the lines of his hand in mine. I’d never seen anyone who had two life lines before. He wasn’t used to having his words ignored, and I understood his frustration.

“Three years wasted.” He sighed. “Not to mention most of my business ventures.”

“I’m sorry. Maybe we shouldn’t have—”

Trent’s hand slipped from mine, reaching to cup my cheek. “Don’t even think it,” he said earnestly. “The past few months have been the best in my life.”

He was looking at my lips, and my pulse quickened. “Tell me it’s going to be okay,” I whispered.

His fingers ran a tingling path down my jawline as his hand dropped from me. “It’s going to be okay. You want to go home?”

To a soggy church with no kitchen or electricity? Or Ivy’s parents’ place where the tension was so tight that it almost sang? Even better, a hotel room where I’d dodge my mom’s pointed questions while the news inescapably blared? “No,” I said, reaching up to feel his new lack of stubble under my fingertips, and I froze when he took my hand, kissing my fingertips.

“Damn it, Rachel,” he said, the pain in his voice startling me. “When I saw you on the floor, I thought I’d lost you again.”

He was holding my hand close to his chest, and I felt a pang of guilt for his fear. “I’m hard to get rid of.”

“Yes and no.”

The silence stretched and neither of us moved. It had gone quiet downstairs, and the world felt empty. “Do you think the undead who find their souls tonight will suncide?”

Trent nodded, a shadow in the dim room. “If the curse holds and they aren’t pulled back,” he said, then gave my hand, still in his, a slight squeeze. “At least Cormel can’t blame you.”

“He’ll find a way,” I grumped, and Trent seemed to pull himself together as if turning a page in his weekly calendar.

“There is a meeting tomorrow with a few key people. If you’re not busy, I think your presence would be helpful.”

Apart, no one listened to us, but together they might. “Let me guess,” I said, bringing a knee up onto the couch and turning sideways so I could arrange his still-damp hair. “Whoever is in charge of the I.S. during this mess, the head of the FIB. Ms. Sarong and/or Mr. Ray.” I hesitated, smiling. “Mark, maybe.”

Trent laughed, the sound of it seeming to ease some of the ugly uncertainty away. “I’d really like you to be there, not necessarily as a demon representative, but as, ah . . .” He winced.

“As someone who might be able to fix this mess?” I said, and he exhaled in relief.

“Something like that.”

His hand was on my foot, and I couldn’t help a soft moan when his thumb ran right up the side of the arch and pushed on the nerve that ran to my back. “You know, I’m starting to see some benefits from dating a man who has weekly massages,” I said, and he began to squeeze my foot in earnest.

“Actually, I’d like Dali there as well,” Trent said, but I was hardly listening. “I wonder if he’d come if I asked? Etude, if he could stay awake. The elves are behaving badly, and I’m wondering if there’s enough worry to gain letters of intent from them that would outline their concern and their policy against further elf-to-vampire aggression.”

He let go of my foot and motioned for me to turn around. “Your shoulders look like rocks,” he said. “All the way down to your feet. Five minutes, and that bath of yours will be a hundred times better.”

I gathered my hair and turned as he swung one leg up onto the couch, tossing the back cushion to the floor to make more room as he settled me before him. “Sort of like a species intervention?” I said, then stifled a moan when his hands, strong from reining in impossible horses, began working my shoulders. “That’s old school.”

“What works never goes out of style.”

His voice was preoccupied, and my head dropped forward. Trent’s leg was beside me, bare where his robe fell away. “I’ll see if I can work it into my schedule,” I said, imagining there were better ways to use a couch. Unable to resist, I leaned back, ruining my shoulder rub but not caring when I tilted my head into him and found a freshly shaven patch of his neck. His arms shifted to go around my middle, and I smiled when my lips found him.

Trent’s hands never stopped moving, becoming gentler as he touched my stomach and made a tingling path higher.

I turned my kiss into a soft, awkward bite. Oh, this isn’t going to work at all.

Shifting, I turned to face him, settling almost into his lap with my legs wrapped around him. Arms about his neck, I found his ear and nibbled on it as my one foot kicked off another back cushion. More room. Much better.

Trent’s hands held my waist, his thumb moving, pressing as he began to work his way inward to pull my shirt from my pants. My heart thudded as he slipped behind it, fingers both rough and smooth making a scintillating path up to find the curve of my breast.

His breath against my neck was delicious, and I made tiny hop kisses from his ear to his lips. Trent’s touch became aggressive, and breathless, I pulled him to me, very aware that his robe wasn’t covering much between us. His mouth against mine sent tingles over me, our passions rising, building upon each other.

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Shock jolted through me when his teeth fastened on my lip. My eyes flashed open to find him looking at me, and my pulse hammered even harder at the heated desire in them.

“You’re wearing too much,” he whispered, and I groaned when his hands eased to my back, motions firm with intent as he reached the top of my pants. His lips found my neck, and I took a long, slow breath as his fingers worked to undo them. My knees were to either side of him, and the sudden give of the button was electrifying—the sound of the zipper bringing me back from the rising ecstasy.

I met his eyes to see his desire mirroring my own. I wanted everything, I wanted this. The silence was profound. I thought about Ray safe in her bed, then Jon and Quen at the stables. My hands were behind his neck, my fingers playing in the damp ends of his hair. “Is it worth it?” I said. “Everything you gave up?”

He couldn’t take my pants off with my knees to either side of him like that. There was only one foot on the floor, and it was his. I smiled, knowing he was stymied. “You tell me.”

I leaned to find his ear. I felt him tremble, his hands on me hesitate and move against me even more strongly as I nibbled on his ear. “I’ll let you know tomorrow,” I whispered.

“Mmmm.” His grip on me shifted, finding my center of gravity. “I work best under pressure.”

“Me too.” I barely breathed the words, my hand trailing down his chest to wiggle the last tie closing his robe open. I tensed, knowing he was going to have to do something drastic if he wanted my pants off. His balance shifted, and I countered it, wanting to prolong this. He saw my wicked grin, and he smiled, changing his attack.

He went for my shirt, and I shivered as he pulled it and my chemise over my head in one smooth motion. They fell to the floor beside the couch in a soft hush. The cooler air gave me goose bumps, but they vanished in a wash of heat, driven away as his eyes traveled over me an instant ahead of his hands.

His robe was open, and I eased closer to him, my hands tracing an ever-circling path inward to find him. Trent’s breath quickened as I dipped to his inner thighs, and then I gasped when he unexpectedly found my breast and gently bit me. “You wicked elf . . . ,” I whispered, reaching for him, then almost lost it when he pulled a trace of energy from me.

My eyes widened at the scintillating feeling icing through me. We’d played with the lines before, and my pulse quickened. It was going to be like that, then.

I felt our auras begin to shift to find a middle ground, and I almost lost it when he suddenly dropped the line and everything he collected washed back into me, balancing in a wave of sparkles along my spine. “Ooh,” I groaned, and in that instant of bemused sensation, he shifted his weight, pushing me back into the couch and pinning me there.

His robe fell open around us, and I blinked up at him, reaching to play with the hair behind his ears, letting little spills of energy trace a path where my lips had been.

“Hold still for just a bloody second,” he said, and I shivered as he pulled my pants off, dropping them inside out next to my shirt. I arched my back, reaching for him as he returned, his hands tracing my lines from my foot to my hip, and rising higher until he found my mouth with his lips.

We kissed, breath coming fast as waves of energy swung back and forth between us. My hand ran over his tightening muscles, delighting me in how he tensed as I moved from his neck to his arms to his back and down to his bu**ocks, where I traced little circles.

His hands clenched in my hair as he nuzzled my neck, finding the old scar hidden under my new skin and nibbling it to life.

I could feel him pressing against me, and unable to deny myself and him any longer, I reached to find him. His breath quickened, and we began to move with each other, tiny sparks of energy shifting between us. His head dipped and he found my breast again as I eased my touch inward, muting the energy in my hands until it was a soft, gentle hum.

He gasped as I found his smooth skin. I slid my touch upward, tightening my grip, enjoying his smoothness and wanting him inside me.

“Not yet,” he panted, and he shifted out of my easy reach.

I wiggled, and he pinned my arms next to my head.

A jolt of desire shook me, and I lunged for his mouth, his neck, anything as his weight settled on me, pinning me where I was. I found his lips, and he met my fervent need with his own, adding to my desire until I moaned.

I pulled one hand free, traveling down his back and circling in to find him again. His weight lifted, and I guided him in, exhaling as he entered, arching up to find him, letting him fill me.

Exhaling, he pushed against me, and my eyes opened. He looked wonderful over me in the dim light. A rising feeling of sparkles widened my eyes, and I gasped as he slowly pulled energy from me, almost like a slow cl**ax. I could hardly breathe, letting him draw it forth until I couldn’t stand it anymore and I pulled it back, making him start as our energies mingled.

I felt him there in my chi, his masculine taste on my lips, my skin, the line now being slowly pulled back into him again.

I let him take it, his warm masculinity slipping away, leaving me wanting, needing. “Oh God,” I moaned, balancing, on edge as I pulled it back to me with the sharpness of a cracked whip.

His grip shifted, and I gasped when he took back, his lips drawing on my breast, his need filling me. Sensation slipped from me in a scintillating wave, tripping over every neuron where we touched. I felt my desire building, and with a ping of emotion, I tipped our energies over the edge in one quick wash.

“Oh God, Rachel,” Trent gasped.

The unexpected jolt shook me. I reached for him, straining, and with a glorious release, my body shook.

Trent’s hands on me clenched, and he groaned, cl**axing right as I did.

I couldn’t breathe. We hung in a joined sensation of ecstasy as our energy, shared and mixed, pooled and settled, perfectly balanced between us.

My heart pounded. Slowly I opened my eyes, seeing him above me in the dim light. He was smiling.

“Hi,” he whispered, propping himself up on an elbow so he could shift the hair from my eyes.

I could still feel him inside me, still feel little jolts of sensation when either of us moved. Smiling, I reached up and tucked a stray strand of hair behind his ear. How could I be this lucky? “Hi,” I breathed, my hand moving to feel the slick sheen of sweat on his shoulder. “I’ve ruined your shower.”

“I can take another.”

He didn’t move, knowing better, and I winced. “Sorry about that.”

He knew I wasn’t talking about the shower, and he leaned down to kiss me, our lips parting with a sound so familiar, so right, that it made me ache. “Have I ever complained?”

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“No, but—”

“Shut up, Rachel,” he said, then kissed me some more. I couldn’t very well talk with his lips moving against mine like that, and I gave up, giving in to the moment until I had to breathe again.

“We probably should have found a better place than this,” I said, and he gave me several more kisses to shut me up.

“It’s my house.”

He was down to short sentences, which meant he was relaxed and feeling good. I smiled up at him, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. Why in hell had it taken me so long to realize I loved him? “Okay, but you share it with two other men and two toddlers.”

Trent’s eyebrows rose, and he glanced over the top of the couch to the stairway. “You live with a vampire and a family of pixies.”

Content, I sighed. “And yet we keep finding ourselves in this position.” I watched his eyes lose their focus as my inner muscles released. Exhaling in relief, he shifted to lie beside me. There was just enough room on the couch, and I felt happy when he tried to cover us both with the free fold of his robe.

“I’ll have to remember that one,” he said, arm draped over me. “Get you to think about pixies and vampires to get you to let go of me.”

Embarrassed, I ran my fingers over him, following the line of his muscles. “I’m worried. They don’t have three miles of forest and a gatehouse between them and the crazy people.”

I sat up and he sighed, shifting to sit beside me. “I know,” he said shortly as he stood, gathering up my clothes before he pulled me up into his arms. “I’ll get you back into Cincy before the sun comes up. Promise.”

I gave up, the feeling of being loved pushing all else away as he carried me through his rooms to the warm bath he had drawn for me. And as he used his foot to open and close the doors, I found myself looking over his simple yet complex world, wondering how I fit in. Maybe I should give up on the thinking and just do it.

That had always served me well in the past.

Chapter 23

I couldn’t see the sun apart from the glow on Cincy’s towers, the blood red slowly shifting to a more familiar gold as it crept down the sides of the buildings as the sun rose. Mark’s was busy, the music muted and the conversations tense with fear. It would’ve been impossible for Trent and me to have found a seat when we’d arrived a mere five minutes ago, but Ivy had been here for hours, rightly worried that the streets would be closed off when the suncides began. We clustered at her table to watch the news on her charging laptop.

Trent fidgeted as we waited for both our drinks and David, the Were currently at Cormel’s emergency city meeting. They’d started about an hour before sunrise, continuing as the expected suncides became reality. Trent hadn’t been invited, but I’d convinced the shocked man that crashing the meeting was a bad idea. David could bring back the real dirt, and Cormel wouldn’t dare stuff the alpha Were in a hole to be forgotten—not as he would Trent. And whereas yesterday I might have gotten mopey about how Trent had been kicked out of his own meeting, now it only made me mad. I loved him, damn it. And everyone else, demons included, would have to get over it.

But the insecurity remained.

Grimacing, Ivy waved Jenks off as his dust blanked the screen, and I leaned forward to hear. Most of the people here were watching something similar on their various devices, and the unending circle of the same bad news of suncides and interviews was making me nauseated.

“. . . are asked to keep 911 calls to life-threatening emergencies,” the professional woman said as she stood outside Cincinnati’s main city building. “Suncides will receive faster responses using the number at the bottom of the screen.” She took a breath, eyes flicking past the camera to track the sound of a passing siren. “Impromptu meetings across the U.S. in major population centers continue to search for ways to cope and hopefully stem the unprecedented numbers of vampiric suncides linked to soul reunions.”

I winced as the woman was replaced by a shot of Edden, David, and Mrs. Sarong going into the very same building, their heads down to avoid the press. It was dark, clearly before sunrise, and I gave Trent’s hand a squeeze under the table.

“But it’s here in our own Cincinnati that all are watching, as former U.S. president Rynn Cormel meets with various members of the scientific and religious community who flew in earlier today from all points with the intent of developing an end solution to this tragedy.”

My hand slipped from Trent’s as he stood. “Excuse me,” he said, eyes down. “I think our drinks are up. Rachel, you sure you don’t want a muffin or something?”

I shook my head. It was too early to eat.

“Living vampires are demanding a removal of the free-roaming undead souls that some are beginning to refer to as surface demons in the wake of the destruction they cause. Experts are advising the living to check on their undead and protect them from unnecessary surface travel. If a loved one does find their soul, they’re advised not to leave them unattended.”

Jenks’s wings clattered, and I followed his gaze to Trent weaving his way to the pickup counter. The coffee wasn’t up. He just didn’t want to hear any more, depressed that his voice was being ignored and that he was forced to work from secondhand information.

Jenks silently flew after him, startling the man when he landed on his shoulder. Ivy sighed and closed her laptop. Eyes red-rimmed from fatigue, she leaned back into her chair and nursed her sweet coffee. “The news is circling now,” she said softly. “Nothing new.”

Circling like the thoughts of the undead, I mused, brow furrowed when I remembered that’s how mystics saw them—little lights in the dark that never changed. “You look tired,” I said, and her eyes flicked to me.

“Didn’t get much sleep. Did you stop at the church on your way in?”

My gaze dropped. “No, I’m afraid to.” I wanted to know if she still had her soul bottle. I hadn’t seen it, but it was small enough to easily fit in a pocket. “How’s Nina?”

“Good.” Her eyes looked up, and a tiny thrill of emotion spilled through me at the love in her eyes for Nina, the relief. “She’s good. She . . . helped me yesterday when I thought Cormel had you. Grounded me. She’s with my folks right now. I’m really worried about my mom.”

Helped? I thought, imagining Ivy freaking out, her frantic terror disguised as planning a foolhardy rescue. Nina had probably had to take charge to keep Ivy from doing something stupid, such as confronting Cormel in person. Oh, wait. That’s just what I’d done. But it had probably proved to Nina that her love for Ivy was stronger than her need for Felix, and I smiled because something good had come of it. Things would be better now.

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“My mother is terrified,” Ivy whispered, her hands laced about her cup. “Torn. She wants her soul. Wants a way out even if it kills her.”

“I’m sorry.”

Jaw clenched, Ivy swung her hair from her eyes and looked out the plate-glass windows at nothing. “This is hell, you know? An entire people cursed. What did we do to deserve this?”

I knew the demons had begun the vampires, probably as a cruel answer to a wish made in fear that grew like a disease, taking the guilty and the innocent alike. I didn’t say anything, and the silence stretched. It felt like it was ending—not just because of the sirens and quiet desperation going on outside the security of the coffeehouse. Just . . . everything. “Ivy . . .”

“I know.” She took a sip of cooling coffee, not looking at me. “I feel it, too. I wanted it to last forever, but things change. People change.”

She was fingering the bracelet that Nina had given her, and I felt proud of her. “Not everything,” I said, reluctant to let her think that after one night at Trent’s I was abandoning her, the church, Jenks . . . One night? Try a couple dozen.

Smiling faintly she shrugged, barely shifting her shoulders. “How we react to things has. Are you happy when you’re with Trent?”

I nodded, not surprised by her question.

“I would have called you a liar if you had said anything else.” Sighing, she shifted her cup out of Jenks’s dust when the pixy came back with a tiny mug. Trent was still at the counter, sprinkling cinnamon into an open cup.

“I should’ve come back last night,” I said.

Jenks slurped his hot coffee. “There was no reason to. Besides, Ivy and Nina—”

“Shut up, Jenks,” Ivy said, a faint blush on her cheeks, but her eyes were earnest as she waved the giggling pixy out from between us. “Sometimes I think Jenks and I stuck with this as long as we did because we were afraid you wouldn’t find someone else who could survive you.”

Swearing at his spilled coffee, Jenks stopped his gyrating and dropped down. Depressed, I put my head on the table, forehead on my crossed arms. Someone who could survive me. Maybe if I didn’t keep putting him in life-threatening places.

“You know what I’d like to do once the church is fixed?” Jenks said. “Travel.”

“To the Arizona desert?” I said, breath coming back warm and stale from the tabletop.

Ivy chuckled. “In your red boots and hat?” she teased, and I pulled my head up to see Jenks hovering, his dust red in embarrassment.

“It’s not that,” he protested, almost belligerent. “I could travel, you know.”

I picked at a small dent in the table. “I think you should.”

“Who’d watch your back?” The pixy snorted, turning to Trent coming back with three steaming cups. “Cookie bits over there? Just ’cause you’re not in the church doesn’t mean you’re not out there doing dumb things.”

“Thanks, Jenks,” I said, smiling at Trent as he carefully set the hot coffee down.

“Here you go, Rachel,” he said, pushing the one with the cinnamon to me before sitting down with his own straight black. “What did I miss?”

His voice was heavy with uncertainty, and I eagerly took a sip, hoping someone else would answer him. Jenks was on the edge of Ivy’s laptop, his ankle crossing one knee to mimic Trent. Lips smacking, he took a long draft of his own brew. “I was just telling Rache how we should all move out to Arizona.”

Trent relaxed, eyeing Ivy as she succinctly sipped her coffee with deliberate slowness. “Arizona, eh? Too hot for horses. I could go for somewhere else, though.”

Surprised, I swallowed the bitter, nutty brew. “You’d move? Seriously?”

Uncomfortable, Trent eased back in his chair. “Sure, why not?” His eyes roved over nothing. “It might be nice to start again without my father’s legacy hanging over me.” He carefully sipped. “Anywhere else looks real good to me right now.”

Jenks rose up, ankle still on his knee. “Meeting must be over. Al is here.”

I leaned past Trent to see the back of the store. Al was indeed there in his forties suit, shaking off the last of the ley line as he stood in an elaborately painted circle next to the door to the back. My eyebrows rose as I realized it was a jump-in/-out circle, not so much having any magical power on its own, but simply a designated space to keep clear of boxes and merchandise for demons to come and go as they would.

My eyes flicked to Mark as Al strode to the order counter. Mark, what have you gotten yourself into, inviting demons into your coffeehouse?

Trent stood. “I’ll get a chair,” he said, eyeing the nearly full establishment. Al’s presence had been noted, and people were gathering their things and making a beeline for the door.

“Demon grande, extra hot!” the barista sang out, and Mark snagged it before it got to the pickup window, handing it to Al himself with a smile that was too relaxed for my liking.

Demon grande? The barista had put a pump of raspberry in it and a sprinkle of cinnamon.

Ivy didn’t move from her slouch as Al came to our table, standing over it and looking at me in disgust. His red goat-slitted eyes shifted to Trent as the man set a chair at the open end of the table, and I stiffened as Al walked behind me. But it wasn’t the new chair he wanted, and he shoved the chair away with his foot, turning to the nearest table and glaring at the patrons until they took their things and scattered. Still silent, he moved the new table into ours so hard that Jenks rose up, swearing and shaking hot coffee from his wing.

Motions expansive, Al swung a chair to sit at the head of the now-longer table. I was starting to wonder why he was here. He didn’t look happy.

Trent sat back down across from me and moved his coffee closer. “How did the meeting go?” he asked pleasantly.

“As expected,” Al growled.

“I didn’t know you were there.” I stretched my foot out to find Trent’s. I knew he hated getting this secondhand, and from Al no less. Feeling it, Trent smiled, but it was tense and vanished fast.

Al wiped his mouth, exhaling long as he came up from his first gulp of coffee. “I was the representative from the demon faction,” he said, unable to hide his pleasure at being important and included. “Landon is devious . . . as are most elves. The vampires should be allowed to die; they’re idiots, believing in fairy tales and dreams when they know they’re damned forever.”

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I curled my hand around my cup to warm my fingers. “I take it that it didn’t go well.”

Al looked away as if peeved. “Landon’s solution is to unbalance the lines—”

“What!” I exclaimed. “Does he have any idea what that can do? I spent an entire night balancing them and I am not doing it again!”

“Wait for the rest,” Al grumbled, and I sat back down, not even realizing I’d stood. Jenks was laughing at me and Ivy was clearly amused, but I was pissed. I wasn’t going to fix them again!

“His plan is to unbalance the lines, drain the ever-after to nothing, and use the energy of the ever-after’s collapse to reinstate the Arizona lines.”

I almost stood up again, jerking back into my seat when Ivy grabbed my arm. “Is he crazy?” I contented myself with that.

“Rachel,” Ivy murmured. “You’re scaring people.”

Al hunched at the table, looking depressed, not outraged. “So of course the demons should be happy, happy and go along with it and help, seeing that if there is no ever-after, there’s no way to banish us again,” he said sarcastically. “Just because the vampires are lobbying for the Darwin award doesn’t mean we are.”

Trent’s finger tapped the table in thought. “Setting aside the obvious downside to the end of magic, how would ending the ever-after solve the problem of the undead souls? Wouldn’t destroying the ever-after ensure they remain in reality?”

“Not necessarily.” Al laced his hands around his coffee. “The undead souls are still tied to the ever-after through the original curse. If the ever-after falls, they cease to exist. Problem solved, according to the elves. They’re not admitting the possibility that demons will fail to exist as well. Apart from you, Rachel.” His mood became introspective. “And all those Rosewood babies,” he drawled. “How are they doing, the little tykes?”

I figured he knew they weren’t dead, but I wasn’t going to tell him. Ivy’s eyes looked haunted as Al tugged the sleeves of his coat, frowning as if missing his usual lace. “Leave it to the elves to muck up a perfectly balanced curse,” he said. “I never liked the cruel savagery of extending some sucker’s life by separating the soul from the consciousness. To make that separation last from this existence to the next was too cruel for a demon, hence storing them in the ever-after, but an elf has no problem with it.” Sneering at Trent over his cup, he took a sip. “Your race is monstrous.”

Trent took a breath to protest, but I waved my hands for attention. “Wait, wait, wait,” I said. “Next existence? You mean like heaven? Reincarnation? Seriously?” I looked over everyone. “You want to share with the class?”

Al sucked on his teeth, the sharp sound like a knife from a sheath. “How the hell should I know what comes next, if anything? I wasn’t the one pioneering the technology. But I do know that if the undead souls have nowhere to shelter until the body truly dies and frees the consciousness, their souls will move on to the next plane, or whatever, without their consciousness. Even Newt doesn’t know what happens after that line is crossed, but until now everyone went with a soul and consciousness together.” He took a sip of coffee. “Cursed or no.”

I sat back, stunned. I had no idea that the demons believed in anything after death, but Al seemed genuinely appalled that Landon would destroy the vampires’ souls.

Lips curling, Al sneered at Trent. “Any wonder we tried to kill you foul things?”

“Hey, that’s enough,” I said as Jenks rose up in agitation. “Trent is on our side.”

The door chimes jingled and Jenks darted to the door as David came in with two women, the first professionally dressed and having a sour expression, the second shorter, dressed in softer, flowing fabric that was no less professional. Both women moved with a grace born of responsibility, and I smiled when I recognized Vivian, the same woman from the witch coven who’d traveled with Trent and me to the witch conference last summer. “Vivian!” I called, and she smiled, touching David’s shoulder as she pointed to us, then to the order window.

“Give me a sec,” she called out. “Vampires can’t make coffee to save their souls.”

Jenks snickered. “Dr. Anders,” he added, and I jerked to a halt halfway to a stand. Crap, the woman was right beside me.

My old ley line instructor pulled her attention from the order line, her narrow face taking in Jenks hovering protectively close. “It’s professor now,” she said to me as she took Trent’s hand as he extended it over the table. “Kalamack,” she said, adding, “I’ll be right back. Rachel, good to see you looking so well.”

Somehow it sounded sarcastic. “I’ll, ah, get you a chair,” I said, shifting to get out from beside her, grabbing one and setting it right next to Al and across from me. Jeez, the woman hadn’t changed at all. Apart from the professor thing. No wonder Trent was so bummed about missing the meeting. This was big stuff and he’d been sidelined.

Heels clacking, Professor Anders got in line behind Vivian. Trent and David were gathering more chairs, and Al slowly stood. “Excuse me,” he said softly, his eyes on Vivian.

“Leave her alone,” I warned him, remembering the demon’s liking for high-magic users. Al tugged his suit straight, smiling wickedly as he came up behind the two women. I took a breath to protest, distracted when David swung a chair around between mine and Al’s and plunked himself down.

“Rachel,” he said, squinting up at me with a decidedly attractive alpha-wolf stubble and confidence. “You’re up early. How you doing?”

I sat back down, enjoying the scent of good earth and spicy pine that came from him. I could see the power of the focus shimmering in the back of his eyes, and I figured he was channeling the demon curse strongly today, seeing that he was acting as a mouthpiece for Weres everywhere. “Better than I thought I might,” I said, glancing out the front window. “Is someone getting you a drink?”

“Vivian.” He twisted awkwardly to retrieve his phone from a back pocket. “I hate meetings,” he said as he set it on the table.

I totally understood, and I resettled myself. “Hey, thanks again for helping get Ivy and Nina out of the square yesterday,” I said, and Jenks snickered.

“How is your jaw?” Ivy asked, pulling my attention from Vivian’s giving Al the brush-off. His jaw? Why? What had happened?

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Expression rueful, David felt his jaw, his eyes flicking to Ivy with more than a little respect. “Fine, thanks,” he grumbled, making Trent smile. “Cormel is still trying to figure out how you two escaped.”

Trent leaned forward over the table, eyes dancing. “Her magic carpet, of course.”

“I am not a rug,” Al said, and Trent jumped, unaware that the demon had been right behind him. Scowling, Al sat, pushing his chair so far back that he almost wasn’t at the table.

Vivian and Professor Anders slowly made their way over, Vivian making a beeline for the free chair at the other end of the table to force Anders to take the chair between Trent and Al. Al smiled lasciviously at the older, uptight woman, surprise coloring his expression when the woman did nothing but give him a dry look and settle squarely in the space.

“Ah, David,” I said to distract the demon. “Al brought up an interesting point; if Landon manages to destroy the undead souls, then it might negatively impact the undead, as their souls and consciousnesses might be forever divided. Is Cormel still buying into Landon’s lies, or is he just stringing Landon along hoping I’ll come bail him out when it doesn’t work?”

David took the cup of straight black coffee that Vivian pushed to him. “That would’ve been good to bring up. Why didn’t you?”

He was looking at Al, and from his distant inclusion at the end of the table, Al sipped his drink. “I’m not going to bandy about a questionable demon belief before six factions of Inderland society. And besides, I wasn’t involved in the theoretical ramifications of the curse in question. I don’t know how true it is.”

Professor Anders’s thin lips pressed into a line. “Demon?” she said in disbelief. “Why weren’t you introduced as such?”

Smiling wickedly, Al inclined his head. “So as not to panic the leprechaun, my dear.”

“Who was?” I asked, and then had to repeat the entire thing since no on was listening, captured by the emotions crossing through the tall woman. “Who was involved in the theoretical studies?”

Al pulled his gaze from Professor Anders. “Newt. Don’t ask her. She doesn’t remember.”

Professor Anders leaned distrustfully toward Al. “You don’t smell like a demon.”

“He’s a demon,” Vivian said. “Why do you think I’m sitting way over here?”

Lips parted, Professor Anders flushed, her gaze alternating between Al and me. “You’re her instructor,” she almost breathed. “The one who taught her the curse to make a human a familiar.”

Al grinned, taking her limp hand up and kissing the top of it. “I am. Would you like to know it?”

Oh God. He was doing it again. “He used to be,” I said loudly, leaning across the table to pull Professor Anders’s hand from Al and making the woman start. “He disowned me recently for dabbling in elven magic.”

“Dabbling?” Al growled. “You’re covered in it.”

Professor Anders’s eyes widened as she pulled up her second sight. “Holy seraph spit,” she said, blinking fast. “Is that safe?”

David sat up, gaze flicking from Trent’s proudly defiant expression and Al’s disgusted one. “What? What’s wrong with Rachel?”

Vivian’s whistle made me flush. “Ah, that can’t be healthy,” the woman said, and Jenks went to sit on David’s shoulder and fill him in.

“Can we get back to the topic, please?” I said, flushing.

“You look sparkly, Rache,” Jenks said, wings clattering. “You must have gotten some last night, eh? Matalina used to glow for hours after we—”

“Shut up!” I exclaimed, and even Mark, behind the counter, chuckled.

“Fascinating,” Professor Anders said, making me jerk back when she tried to touch my aura, apparently glowing from the mystics. “You practice elf magic, too? This is what happens without formal instruction. Why don’t elves glow?”

Jenks rose up, clearly enjoying being the center of attention. “Because elves don’t have bits of the Goddess bonded to them like Rachel does.”

I scrunched down when the narrow-faced woman pinned me under her stare. “How does this impact your ability to do magic? Can you tap a line?”

The rest of the table was beginning to stir uncomfortably, and I winced.

“I’m sorry, Professor,” Trent said, interrupting. “I’m more than happy to take you and Rachel out to lunch to discuss this in further detail, but we need to come up with a course of action and I still don’t know what was decided.”

I touched his foot with mine in thanks, but I thought it was his desire to get on with this more than anything else. It had been awful watching him fidget this morning, excluded from what was once his domain. I think he missed this more than the money or the notoriety.

Jenks dipped a cup of coffee out of my own cup. “Yeah, we have to save the world first before you can work on your next paper—Professor.”

“Okay.” Trent scooted his chair up, hand touching his breast pocket as if looking for a pen. “Landon is using the situation to try and kill the vampires through their lack of a soul. His method will further remove the source of magic so as to eliminate the threat of demons and witches—all to ensure elf survival. I simply fail to understand how Cormel can still believe Landon has his best interests in mind.”

David pulled himself straight, his smile at my expense gone. “I think everyone is more scared of a world without master vampires than one without magic.”

Clearly used to running meetings, Vivian began taking notes. “With the combined support of the coven and the enclave, the dewar can reinstate the Arizona lines with the energy from the shrinking ever-after.”

Al lolled his head to the ceiling. “Lie . . . ,” he drawled, and Vivian bristled.

“It is not.”

Al’s head dropped, and he found her eyes. “You wish.”

“I agree,” Professor Anders said, the sureness in her voice garnered from decades of arguing with know-it-all peers. “The Arizona lines are dead. You can’t reinstate them. Once gone, they’re gone. It’s impossible to reverse a physical reaction like this; therefore, you can’t reinstate lines. I don’t care how big a collective, dewar, enclave, coven, or energy source you have.”

Al’s attention slowly slid to her, taking in her stark lines, her pigheaded confidence, and her utter refusal to be afraid of him. My eyes narrowed as he stuck a finger into her aura.

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“It would be far safer to find a way to shove the undead souls back into the ever-after,” the woman finished, shooting a withering look at Al.

“The ever-after is a hell,” Ivy spoke up, her voice ragged almost.

“It wasn’t when we made it,” Al grumbled.

Professor Anders laced her hands before her as if there was nothing more to be said. “I’m sorry, Ms. Tamwood, but your kin is cursed. If it’s a choice between them or us living in hell, I pick them.”

Jenks’s wings clattered as Ivy’s eyes slowly blossomed into black. “What did my mother do to deserve to be cursed?” she said. “What did I do? How many generations need *****ffer for one man frightened of death!”

Al shrugged, nonchalantly signaling Mark to make him another coffee. “You could always end the curse by letting them die. It’s what they want to do, apparently.”

Jenks’s wings drooped. “And the world goes with them.”

“So what do we do?” I said, keeping a tight watch on Ivy. “We can’t allow an end to the ever-after, even to prevent the undead souls from killing their, ah, own. I can’t live in a world with no magic.”

David tapped the table with a thick knuckle. His hands were looking rougher these days, and I wondered if he was embracing his wilder side more. “Yes, I don’t get that part. Why would Landon want an end to magic?”

Wincing, Trent rubbed his forehead. “Because elven magic isn’t entirely dependent upon ley lines. We have an open forum through prayer and might be the only major magic users left if the lines go.”

Might. He said might. As in demons might be able to use elf magic as well? Or might as in elves might not have magic either? The distinction was important.

“What about Weres?” David asked, understandably concerned.

“I think you’ll be fine,” Trent said, but David didn’t look convinced. “Weres and leprechauns also use the Goddess’s energy to shift and perform magic. I’d expect a slight reduction, but still functioning.”

Not pleased, David slumped back. “It’s hard enough to shift already.”

“What about pixies?” Jenks asked.

“I think you’ll be okay,” I said, but worry that he wouldn’t made the coffee sit ill in me. Landon wouldn’t care if the pixies died out in his bid for elven superiority. Hadn’t he learned anything from the history texts?

“There’s always the chance that if he can’t reinvoke the Arizona lines—”

“He can’t,” Professor Anders interrupted.

“. . . that the Goddess will also lose her access to reality.” Trent’s lips pressed together in thought. “She won’t be happy about that,” he said, and Professor Anders drummed her fingers, clearly not believing in the Goddess at all.

Vivian set her pen down with a sharp snap. “I was going to advise the coven *****pport Landon, but this changes things.”

“You believe in the Goddess?” Professor Anders scoffed, and Trent bristled.

Vivian simply smiled. “No. I was referring to the elves’ ability to draw on a separate band of energy not collected in a ley line to perform their magic, one that might still be available if the lines were dead. Calling it a deity is no skin off my nose, and I don’t want any religious entity holding the rest of Inderland hostage. Once the lines end, everyone will panic. They’ll give the dewar anything and everything to reinstate them.”

“Eat that, Ms. Professor,” Jenks said, darting to make the woman wave a hand at him.

Trent seemed mollified, but I knew it was only recently that he’d begun believing in the Goddess himself. “I know nothing for certain,” he said, “but Landon wouldn’t risk losing the lines if he wasn’t confident that he’d be able to continue to perform magic.”

“A truer word has not been spoken,” Al said, reaching over his shoulder to take the new cup Mark was handing him.

“Look,” I said, and Al choked on his coffee.

“Oh God. She’s got a list,” the demon gasped, still coughing, and Jenks grinned, cup raised in a salute.

“We can’t allow the undead masters to die!” I said, undeterred. “It was crazy last spring. Vivian, the news you got on the West Coast was sugarcoated. Cincinnati almost collapsed under mob rule. All services were cut. People went hungry because they were afraid to go outside, and for good reason. They’re still trying to repair the damage, and I’m not talking about just the buildings.”

Nodding, David ruefully rubbed his wrist, broken when he’d tried to stop Nina from crashing the van she was driving into a train.

“Rachel,” Professor Anders said, making me jump. “Can the demons do anything? Perhaps they have a charm to banish the undead souls again. Permanently.”

I twirled my almost full cup of coffee around. “Don’t ask me. Ask the demon.”

The woman leaned in across the table, reminding me of why I didn’t like her. “Apparently, I am,” she said, and I gave her a fake smile.

Al could hardly stand being ignored by her, and with a loud harrumph, he broke the woman’s icy gaze on me. “No. And whereas ending the ever-after would forever eliminate the possibility of us being trapped there again, the risk is too great that we might find our own existence ending with it. The demons vote no. We are going to do nothing.”

“Big surprise,” I grumped, still watching my cup go around and around.

“Doing nothing is a decision,” Al said tightly. “The old undead will die. The new undead will replace them, perhaps with souls, perhaps not. I can’t wait to find out.”

“Sadist,” Ivy snarled, and Jenks rose up, concerned that she might lose it. It’s hard enough watching your mother slowly become insane, but to sit at a table with someone who’d been around when the original curse had been woven was harder.

“Okay, okay,” I soothed, and Jenks quietly flew over to whisper calming things into Ivy’s ear. “No one is going to advocate letting this run its course,” I said, watching Ivy. “Except the demons, who are a small but powerful and likely uncooperative faction.”

Al inclined his head graciously, and Professor Anders sniffed at him.

“So where do we stand?” Trent looked at Vivian’s notes in envy as she collected them together and tapped the ends on the table.

“I have yet to make my report to the coven,” the woman said resolutely. “I’ll give a vote of no confidence in Landon’s plan, but they’re scared.” Her attention shifted to Al. “Scared of demons in reality, scared of vampires out of control, scared that humans will rise up against all of us when the vampires lose it again. I can almost guarantee they will vote to reinstate the Arizona lines and destroy the undead souls to save what they can of society.”