The Witch With No Name

by Kim Harrison

  “Rachel?” Trent’s whisper made Nina twitch, and I raised my hand to tell him I was okay. Bis was beside him, black in fear but ready to act. Jenks was there, too, stuck within the circle Trent had made to protect them.

  “If you ever trap me again in a circle when Rachel needs me, I will kill you in your sleep, Kalamack,” Jenks said, the unsettling black dust sifting from him and making the red dirt turn white. Wiping the grit from his mouth, Trent nodded and dropped his circle.

  Jenks darted to me, and I staggered to a stand. “I’m fine,” I rasped. “Go see how many we’re dealing with.” The rock under my hand hurt. It was as if I could feel the accumulated damage from two thousand years of smut raining down on it.

  “No,” he said flatly, his wings moving so fast they hurt my ears.

  Shocked, I looked up, realizing how scared he’d been. For me.

  “They’re leaving,” Jenks added, rising up a few feet and spinning to get a three-sixty. “Get ready for something.”

  “I get that feeling, too.” Ignoring Felix/Nina, I flexed my hand to rid it of the last of the pinpricks. Trent was scrambling to repair his spiral, his chanting half heard and motions hasty, but all I wanted to do was get out of here and back to the vampires waiting to beat us to a pulp.

  Nina stumbled, throwing a white hand to the ground to stay upright. My attention shot to the horizon when a surface demon became obvious, seeming to appear from nowhere.

  “Trent, it’s him!” I whispered loudly, and his magic rose again, the elven drums pounding a chant into my psyche, demanding I submit, become.

  Become. It had been what the Goddess had been terrified of, becoming something new, something else, destroying her as she . . . was reborn. Adrenaline pulsed through me, and the sharp stab of pain from Jenks’s sword on my earlobe jerked me back. Damn, I had been headed right for Trent’s spell.

  Nina had fallen to her knees, eyes fixed on the surface demon as tears rolled down her face. “Oh God,” she moaned, the pain in her voice telling me it was Felix. “Please . . . I can’t.”

  Beside me, Trent’s chanting rose, strong. Nina reached out to the demon. “My soul!” she screamed, the sound echoing back from the roof of the world. “I can’t . . .”

  Jenks’s wings felt like fire. “Rache, you think them touching is a good idea?”

  No, I didn’t. I shook off my shock and stumbled forward. It was obvious that the surface demon in front of Nina was Felix’s soul; the bruises I’d given him were still red and ugly. He hissed as he saw me, but he’d almost reached Nina and I didn’t dare let them touch. The woman was crying, afraid to move, I think, and I pulled her to her feet, dragging her backward to lure the soul into following us. This hadn’t been the original idea, but we were down to quick and dirty. As long as I didn’t touch the spiral, I should be okay. I’d be okay, wouldn’t I?

  Nina took a step, completely unaware or uncaring as the surface demon closed the gap. Her hand went out, shaking as she enticed him closer. “Please . . . ,” she moaned, the sound going to my center and aching.

  “Little to the right, Rache,” Jenks whispered, and my foot cramped with tingles when my heel touched Trent’s outer circle. I hesitated, knowing I shouldn’t be here. Knees shaking, I remembered the peace the curse promised, the release from fear, from pain. But it was too soon, and I refused it. My sight dimmed with sparkles as I took another step back, dragging Nina over Trent’s spiral. The demon followed, writhing, afraid to follow, but unable to resist.

  Nina didn’t seem to notice when she crossed the first of the spiral lines, even when her foot touched it. The demon, though . . .

  The undead soul’s eyes widened. His outline wavered, and my grip on Nina tightened as she reached for him, tears streaming down her face and glinting black in the green and red light. Trent gasped when the demon reached out as well, his hand passing through Nina’s. He’d become insubstantial. It was working!

  Nina and the demon both shook, touching but not. “Oh God, what have I done?” Nina moaned, and my heart thudded as I realized Felix’s soul was trying to merge with Nina’s. “What have I . . . Please. I didn’t know. I had to!” she sobbed. “Let me die, please God, let me die!”

  “Get out of the charm!” Trent almost hissed. “Jenks, get Rachel out of there!”

  I jumped when Jenks’s sword poked my ear, and dizzy, I began backing Nina across the spiral. The soul followed, his feet stepping precisely where mine had been, avoiding the glowing spiral. Trent was right. The undead couldn’t have their souls and survive. Felix was sobbing not from the joy of finding his soul, but from the guilt for the hundred years of brutality he’d committed—enjoyed. Cormel wasn’t going to believe me. I’ll make him believe.

  Nina pleaded, arm stretched as I backed her up another careful step. My skin tingled, and I shivered as I reached the last arm of it and dragged her to the other side of the outer circle.

  “One more step, Rache,” Jenks said, and I held my breath against the lure as I hesitated . . . breathed . . . and finally pushed myself out of Trent’s spell.

  “No!” Nina moaned when I yanked her through it as well. My pulse thundered, and the zing of Trent’s field seemed to lick up the edges of my skin, trapping the demon inside. We had him.

  “Oh no,” Jenks whispered, and Trent glanced at me. His face went ashen.

  “What?” I said, his fear kindling my own, but neither one said anything. “What!” I said again, vertigo hazing me as Nina collapsed, sobbing. My fingertips were tingling, but they looked okay.

  “Nothing.” Jaw clenched, Trent turned back to the charm. “Keep Nina back.”

  “Give it to me!” Nina howled, and I suddenly found myself three feet away and gasping for breath on the hard dirt. Nina had shoved me, and I watched as she hammered on the column. Within it, the twisted shape of Felix’s soul was doing the same, both of them freaking out as their brief moment of connection was sundered.

  “Holy pixy piss, Trent, finish it!” Jenks shouted.

  “Ta na shay cooreen na da!” Trent said, horrified as the demon tried to dig his way under the energy barrier. “Ta na shay!” he said again, to no effect.

  The demon howled at the sky, then turned to Trent, hatred in his eyes.

  And then the demon’s foot touched the spiral.

  Shock reverberated through the surface demon, and his howling turned from anger to fear, and then panic as he suddenly dissolved, vanishing into a quicksilver pulse of light that spun through the spiral to the tiny endpoint.

  The demon’s last cry echoed, but he was gone.

  Nina stared, shocked as Felix’s soul was suddenly not there. In the new silence, the bottle slowly rocked, spun, and fell over, clinking against the pebbly dust.

  Had it worked?

  “Give. Me. My. Soul.”

  It had been Nina, and I stared at her as Trent, oblivious to everything, struggled to find himself, head down and panting as the ends of his ribbon shook. He’d done it, and it looked as if it had cost him dearly. Why was I doing this with him? I was going to get him killed.

  “Give it to me!” Nina shouted again, and I scrambled up as she jumped at Trent. Bis flew up in fear and Jenks darted away. Scared, I grabbed Nina’s shirt and jerked her off Trent.

  “Nina! Kick him out!” I demanded, and she snarled, her hair wild as I pinned her to a tall rock, my hands feeling as if they were on fire.

  “There is no Nina,” she howled. “I want my soul! Give it to me!”

  “I’m sorry, Nina.” I couldn’t find a hint of her in the woman’s glazed, fierce expression. I made a fist, grabbing it with my free hand and swinging my elbow at her head.

  It hit her with a resounding pop. Pain flashed up through me and was gone. It was a phantom pain. I’d done it right and all the force had gone right into her head, knocking her out.

  Elbow stiff, I caught her before she fell and eased her down. If Felix had been himself, I never would have been able to do it, but he was half out of his mind, l
ost and adrift from having touched his soul.

  “Are you okay, Rachel?” Trent whispered, and I nodded. He was slumped beside Bis, exhausted, shaken by what he’d done. I knew he’d have no regrets and would do it again if I asked. But I wouldn’t.

  Seeing Felix with even the hint of his soul had been enough to convince me that giving the undead their souls would send them walking into the sun. I’d seen Cincinnati without her undead. As much as I hated them, it would be the beginning of the end.

  “You can’t give him his soul,” Trent said.

  Saying nothing, I crossed the space between us, kicking dust and dirt into the spiral as I went to get the soul bottle. The spiral was dead. It held nothing anymore.

  “You saw what it did to him,” Trent added.

  The bottle felt small in my hand, and my stomach twisted as I remembered the demon who’d taken shape from Felix’s soul, bitter and savage. Without the mind to temper it and the body to cushion it, the soul became warped and broken. How long had they been apart? A hundred years? Two hundred?

  “Rachel?”

  I scooped up my shoulder bag and dropped the bottle inside. Today I felt like a demon, and I wiped my hands off on my pants, shaking as I looked at them and the red dust like blood. “We need to get out of here,” I said, seeing the eyes beginning to close in around us again.

  Slowly Trent got to his feet. He looked at his spell for a moment, then away—but not at me.

  I could not fail Ivy. If I failed to convince Cormel that this would be their ruin, then I’d finish the charm and fix it to Felix. And if Cormel still didn’t believe after Felix walked into the sun to end his torment, I’d find Cormel’s soul and fix it to his putrid, decaying body.

  But I’d never ask Trent to do this again.

  Chapter 8

  Jenks tugged at my hair as he struggled to be free of it. We were back in Eden Park, but little had changed. Living vampires were in front of us, staring in the shadowy light from the nearby streetlamps. They were bruised, several sporting bloodied noses and lips, and the ground was torn up. A quick look behind us confirmed my suspicion that we were surrounded by whatever camarilla had won the fight we’d left earlier.

  “Sweet ever-loving humping Tink. Can’t you jump us somewhere where we don’t have to fight for our lives?” Jenks took to the air with the sound of dry leaves.

  I reached to set a circle, but Trent’s hand on my arm stopped me. “Best not show any fear,” he whispered. “I’ll keep a tight hold on the line to set a circle if we need one. It might be better if you laid off the magic for a little while.”

  Laid off the magic? “Are you serious?” I said, not liking the sullen faces looking at me. But they weren’t advancing, and I eased my hold on the line until it was the lightest of touches. He was right about one thing: showing fear always brought out the worst in vampires, living or dead.

  I thought of the little bottle in my bag and held it closer. They weren’t getting it. Then I grimaced, wondering why I was trying so hard to do a black elven charm that might get me killed. The last one Landon had given me nearly had. Cormel will believe me, and then I won’t have to risk it, I thought, but when Felix’s cry of agony and despair raged out to echo against the town houses, I had a bad feeling that Cormel was going to be just as blind.

  “What, by Tink’s little pink rosebuds, was that?” Jenks said, and Bis made the short hop from the statue to me, wrapping his tail under my armpit and shivering.

  Trent scuffed his feet into the pavement. “I think it was Felix looking for his soul,” he said. Tired, I dropped my shoulder bag, ready for a fight. Nina was still slumped on the ground and I hoped she didn’t wake up.

  Never dropping my eyes, the vampire in front leaned to a scared woman who looked as if she’d come from the office, heels scuffed and dress jacket torn. “Tell him she’s back,” he said, and the woman retreated, her shadowy form swallowed by the crowd. They were just staring at us, giving me the creeps.

  “Cormel wants to talk to you,” the vampire said, his voice carrying well. He was dressed casually, but his glasses were top of the line, costing more than my last trip to the spell shop.

  “Good, because I want to talk to him,” I said. My stomach hurt, but a knot had eased. Cormel’s people had won. The man might be reasonable. He’d ruled the free world during the Turn, after all.

  I’d have known there was a fight even if we hadn’t jumped out at the start of it. It was also obvious that a good portion of them weren’t Cormel’s usual strong-arm force. There were shopkeepers, students, and salespeople among the bouncers, street dealers, and security. Cormel had called in whoever would respond, making sure that when I popped back into reality he would control my next move. Which begged the question as to how big the faction was that didn’t want the undead to have their souls. Ally? I wondered, dismissing it. Cormel would listen, but as Felix’s laments rose anew, doubt stained my conviction.

  The vampires around me were an unsettling mix of hope and fear, hope that I had a way to keep them from losing their souls, fear that it might cause them even more pain. Should I give them what they wanted, knowing it might bring an end to their undead existence and plunge the world into chaos until a new balance could be found? One that might have an elven master?

  I glanced at Trent as he checked his phone. A power struggle might elevate him back to his original clout, even if he was against the entire thing. Guilt for his drop in status bothered me keenly, but he wouldn’t thank me if I handed it back to him by destroying the current balance. There was no easy answer, and as we waited for Cormel, I began to fidget. I wasn’t the only one anxious, and Jenks bobbed up and down, fidgety.

  “Relax,” I said, seeing someone drive a scruffy white dog away. It looked like Buddy, which sort of answered my question of what had happened to the original dog. “It’s just a conversation. No one has ever died from a conversation.”

  Jenks’s wings looked silver in the light from Trent’s phone as he landed on the man’s shoulder. His dust blanked out the screen, and Trent blew it away. “Uh-huh,” Jenks said sourly as he took to the air again.

  Trent stiffened, his concern obvious. “Ivy’s been taken.”

  “What?” I spun, leaning to read his screen. “We were gone only half an hour!” My thoughts went back to the rival vampires, and my heart almost stopped. They had her.

  Trent’s expression was grave. “It was Cormel. The girls are fine. Ellasbeth is having hysterics.” Punching a few buttons, he closed his phone. “I told them to stay put.”

  My relief was short-lived, and I looked over the surrounding vampires circling us like zombies. Where is the I.S. when you need them?

  “Think we’re going to have to fight our way out?” Jenks said, looking ready for it, but I was weary of it all. Three vampires, sure. Four, maybe. Two dozen—not happening.

  Trent, too, seemed more eager to solve this by action than words, but his fake, political smile faded at the rising sound of approaching voices. Rynn Cormel was making his casual, unhurried way to the front of the crowd. Jenks’s wings clattered, and with a nod, I sent him up and away for reconnaissance. Bis went with him, and I breathed easier. The farther away they were from me, the safer they were, and my stomach hurt at the ugly truth of it.

  Cognizant of my anger and worry—enjoying it, perhaps—Cormel stopped before us, a confident smile on his thin lips. The somewhat small man took his hands from the pockets of his knee-length wool coat, removing his hat and handing it to an aide. His eyes never left us as he fixed his hair, and my skin crawled when Felix’s soulful cry rose to an angry demand before it fell into a sob. Several vampires cringed, and I held my shoulder bag tighter. The bottle with Felix’s soul clinked. Maybe I was overthinking this. If I didn’t give them what they wanted, they’d kill Ivy. What did I care what happened next?

  “You shouldn’t have taken Ivy,” I said, and Felix cried out again, the sound chilling.

  “You shouldn’t defy me, Morgan.” His vo
ice was even, his Bronx accent obvious. He was angry, but his voice lacked any vampire persuasion.

  “It’s a personal choice,” I said flippantly, rethinking my approach when Trent winced. “Cormel, I’m sorry, but giving the undead their souls isn’t a good idea.”

  “You might think differently in the morning,” he threatened, and my face went cold. Trent grabbed my arm, and I pushed him off me. Fear mixed with anger, and I watched every vampire’s eyes dilate. Cormel smiled at the titters of laughter. They thought they had me by the short hairs. And they sort of did.

  “You just keep thinking this is funny!” I shouted. Damn it, what had happened to my midnight deadline? “If you hurt Ivy, you get nothing. Nothing!”

  Cormel smiled. “Oh, I assure you that whatever I do, she’ll enjoy it. And so will you. You shouldn’t have toyed with me, Morgan. Kalamack can’t help you anymore.”

  “I beg to differ,” Trent said, and a new fear slid through me. Not him. I couldn’t bear it if my mistakes got him hurt.

  “Look,” I said, and Cormel’s eyes narrowed as he realized I was about to make a list of demands. “I just saw Felix with his soul, and it nearly killed him right there. I know I promised I’d find a way for you to keep them, but it totally freaked him out! Listen to him!”

  Felix’s wail rose up almost as if on cue, and I shivered at the lost sound of it. I wasn’t the only one. Almost all the laypeople in the crowd were scared. It was only the heavies who maintained their “pound them” attitudes, and some of them were showing doubt.

  “Perhaps if you’d been successful, he wouldn’t be so distressed,” Cormel said dryly.

  “That is success you’re listening to!” I said. “I’ve got his soul. Are you blind?”

  Shock cascaded over Cormel. “You . . . have it?” The upright, polished master turned toward Felix’s raw screams. It sounded as if someone was torturing him. “I thought . . .” His expression hardened. “You dangled his soul before him? Like a toy?”