Every Witch Way But Dead th-3

by Ким Харрисон

  I did just that, dropping the vial into her purse and setting it beside her.

  "Thanks," Ivy said. "The time I 'lost' mine, he grounded me for a month."

  I gave her a weak smile, thinking it was kind of like losing your glasses or retainer…or maybe your diaphragm. Oh God. Did I really want to know all this?

  "You still wear caps?" I said, curiosity getting the better of me. She didn't seem to be embarrassed about it. Maybe I should just go with it.

  Ivy shook her head, signaling an instant before she crossed two lanes of traffic to get to the expressway's onramp. "No," she said as I clutched the door handle. "Not since I was seventeen. But I keep them in case—" She cut her words off. "Just in case."

  Just in case what? I wondered, then decided I didn't want to know. "Uh, Ivy?" I questioned as I tried not to figure out where she was going to force herself into traffic. I held my breath while we merged and, from behind us, horns blew. "What the heck does bunny ears and 'kiss, kiss' mean?"

  She stared at me, and I made a peace sign and crooked my fingers twice in quick succession. An odd smile quirked the corners of her mouth. "Those aren't bunny ears," she said. "Those are fangs."

  I thought about that, then flushed. "Oh."

  Ivy chuckled. I eyed her for a moment, then deciding there would be no better time, I took a slow breath. "Um, about Skimmer…"

  Her good mood vanished. She shot me a look, then put her eyes back on the road. "We were roommates." A faint flush came over her, telling me it was more than that. "We were very close roommates," she added carefully, as if I hadn't already figured it out. Ivy hit the brakes hard to avoid a black BMW that wanted to pen her in behind a minivan. Accelerating quickly, she darted around to the right, leaving him behind.

  "She came out here because of you," I said, feeling my blood quicken. "Why didn't you tell her we aren't like that?"

  Her grip on the wheel tightened. "Because…" She took a soft breath and tucked her hair behind her ear. It was a nervous tic that I didn't see very often. "Because I didn't want to," she said as she settled in behind a red Trans-Am doing fifteen over the posted limit.

  Eyes worried, she looked at me, ignoring the green minivan that both the Trans-Am and we were roaring up on. "I'm not going to apologize, Rachel. The night you decide taking and giving blood isn't sex, I'm going to be there. I'll take what I can until you do."

  Horribly uncomfortable, I shifted in my seat. "Ivy…"

  "Don't," she said lightly as she yanked the car to the right, hitting the gas to dart ahead of both of them. "I know how you feel about it. I can't change your mind. You're going to have to figure it out for yourself. Skimmer being here doesn't change anything." She slipped in front of the van, giving me a soft smile that convinced me even more that blood was sex. "And then you'll spend the rest of your life kicking yourself for waiting so long to take that chance."

  Eighteen

  The commercial cut in, the volume jarring me as I sat on the couch. Sighing, I pulled my knees to my chin and hugged my legs. It was early, just after two in the morning, and I was trying to find the gumption to go make something to eat. Ivy was still on her run, and even with the awkward conversation in the car, I was hoping she'd be home early enough so we could go out. Warming up a potpie and eating alone had all the appeal of pulling the skin off my shins.

  Grabbing the remote, I muted the TV. This was depressing. I was sitting on the couch on a Friday night watching Die Hard, alone. Nick should have been there with me. I missed him. I think I missed him. I missed something. Maybe I just missed being held. Was I that shallow?

  Tossing the remote down, I realized a voice was coming from the front of the church. I sat up; it was a man's voice. Alarmed, I tapped the line out back. Between one breath and the next, my center filled. With the force of the line running through me, I gathered myself to rise, only to sink down when Jenks flew into the room at head height. The soft hum of his wings told me in an instant that whatever was up front wasn't going to kill me or put money in my pocket.

  Eyes wide, he landed on the lampshade. The dust sifting from him floated upward with the rising heat of the bulb. He was usually tucked in my desk asleep at this hour, which was why I was having my pity party now so I could sulk without interference. "Hey, Jenks," I said as I let go of the line and the unfocused magic left me. "Who's here?"

  His face became worried. "Rachel, we might have a problem."

  I eyed him sourly. I was sitting alone watching Die Hard. That was a problem, not whatever had come waltzing in our door. "Who is it?" I said flatly. "I already ran off the Jehovah Witnesses. You would think living in a church, they might get the idea, but no-o-o-o."

  Jenks frowned. "Some Were in a cowboy hat. He wants me to sign a paper saying I ate that fish we stole for the Howlers."

  "David?" I jerked out of the chair and headed for the sanctuary.

  Jenks's wings were a harsh buzz as he flew beside me. "Who's David?"

  "An insurance adjustor." My brow furrowed. "I met him yesterday."

  Sure enough, David was sanding in the middle of the empty room, looking uncomfortable in his long coat and hat pulled down over his eyes. Pixy children were watching from under the crack of the rolltop desk, their pretty faces all lined up in a row. He was on a cell phone, and upon seeing me, he muttered a few words, closed the cover, and tucked it away.

  "Hello, Rachel," he said, cringing as his voice echoed. His eyes ran over my casual jeans and red sweater, and then went to the ceiling as he shifted from foot to foot. It was obvious he wasn't comfortable in the church, like most Weres, but it was psychological not biological.

  "I'm sorry to bother you," he said as he took off his hat and crushed it in a tight grip. "But hearsay won't stand up in this case. I need your partner to verify he ate that wishing fish."

  "Holy crap! It was a wishing fish!" There was a chorus of shrill cries from the desk. Jenks made a harsh sound, and the faces lining the crack scattered back into the shadows.

  David took a trifolded paper from a pocket of his duster and unfolded it atop Ivy's piano. "If you could sign here?" he said, then straightened, his eyes suspicious. "You did eat it?"

  Jenks looked scared, his wings a blue so dark they were almost purple. "Yeah. We ate it. Are we going to be all right?"

  I tried to hide my smile, but David grinned, his teeth looking white in the dim light of the sanctuary. "I think you'll be fine, Mr. Jenks," he said, clicking open a pen and holding it out.

  My eyebrows rose. David hesitated, looking from the pen to the pixy. The pen was the larger of the two. "Ummm," he said, shifting on his feet.

  "I've got it." Jenks zipped to the desk, returning with a pencil lead. I watched him carefully write his name, the ultrasonic chatter from the desk making my eyes hurt. Jenks rose, pixy dust sifting from him. "Hey, uh, we aren't in any trouble, are we?"

  The pungent scent of ink assailed me, and David looked up from notarizing it. "Not from our end of things. Thank you, Mr. Jenks." He looked at me. "Rachel."

  A soft rattling of the windows from an air-pressure shift brought both our heads up. Someone had opened the back door to the church. "Rachel?" came a high voice, and I blinked.

  It was my mom? Bewildered, I looked at David. "Ah, it's my mom. Maybe you ought to go. Unless you want her to bully you into taking me on a date."

  David's face went startled as he tucked the paper away. "No. I'm done. Thanks. I probably should have called first, but it is normal business hours."

  My face warmed. I had just added ten thousand to my bank account, courtesy of Quen and his "little problem." I could sit on my butt and sulk for one night if I wanted. And I wasn't going to prep the charms I'd be using on said run tonight. Spelling after midnight under a waning moon was asking for trouble. Besides, how I arranged my day was not his business.

  Bothered, I looked at the back of the church, not wanting to be rude but not wanting my mom to play twenty questions with David, either. "I'll be right there, Mom!" I s
houted, then turned to Jenks. "Will you see him out for me?"

  "Sure thing, Rache." Jenks rose up to head height to accompany David into the foyer.

  "'Bye, David," I said, and he gave me a raised-hand good-bye and put his hat on.

  Why does it all happen at once? I thought, hustling to the kitchen. My mom visiting unannounced would top off an already perfect day. Tired, I entered the kitchen to find her with her head in my fridge. From the sanctuary came the boom of the front door closing.

  "Mom," I said, trying to keep my voice pleasant. "It's great to see you. But it's business hours." My thoughts went to my bathroom, wondering if my undies were still atop the dryer.

  Smiling, she straightened, peeking at me from around the door of the fridge. She was wearing sunglasses, and they looked really odd with her straw hat and sundress. Sundress? She was in a sundress? It was below twenty out there.

  "Rachel!" Smiling, she shut the door and opened her arms. "Give me a hug, honey."

  Thoughts whirling, I absently returned her embrace. Maybe I should call her psychologist and make sure she was still making her appointments. An odd smell clung to her, and as I pulled away, I said, "What is that you're wearing? It smells like burnt amber."

  "That's because it is, love."

  Shocked, my eyes went to her face. Her voice had dropped several octaves. Adrenaline shook me. I jerked back, only to find a white-gloved hand gripping my shoulder. I froze, unable to move as a ripple of ever-after cascaded over her, revealing Algaliarept. Oh, crap. I was dead.

  "Good evening, familiar," the demon said, smiling to show me flat blocky teeth. "Let's find a ley line and get you home, hmm?"

  "Jenks!" I shrieked, hearing my voice harsh with terror. Leaning back, I swung my foot up, kicking him square in the 'nads.

  Al grunted, his red, goat-slitted eyes widening. "Bitch," he said, reaching down and grabbing my ankle.

  Gasping, I went down as he yanked me onto my butt. I hit with a thump, panicking. As I kicked ineffectively at him, he dragged me out of the kitchen and into the hall.

  "Rachel!" Jenks shrilled, black pixy dust sifting from him.

  "Get me a charm!" I shouted as I grabbed the archway and hung on. Oh God. He had me. If he got me to a line, he could physically drag me to the ever-after, me saying no or not.

  Arms tensing, I fought to hold onto the wall long enough for Jenks to open my charm cupboard and grab one. I didn't need a finger stick; my lip was already bleeding from the fall.

  "Here," Jenks cried, hovering at ankle height to look me right in the eye. He had the cord to a sleep charm in his grip. His eyes were frightened and his wings were red.

  "Don't think so, witch," Al said, giving me a jerk.

  Pain sliced through my shoulder, and my grip was torn away. "Rachel!" Jenks exclaimed as my fingernails scraped the hardwood floor and then the carpet in the living room.

  Al muttered Latin, and I cried out as an explosion blew the back door off its hinges.

  "Jenks! Get out! Get your kids safe!" I shouted when cold air raced in to replace the air the explosion had blown out. Dogs barked as I slid down the stairs on my stomach. Snow, ice, and rock salt scraped my middle and my chin. I stared up at the shattered doorframe as David's silhouette showed black against the light. I held my hand out for the charm Jenks had dropped. "The charm!" I screamed when he clearly had no idea what I wanted. "Throw me the charm!"

  Al came to a halt. His English riding boots making prints on the unshoveled walk, he turned. "Detrudo," he said, clearly a trigger word for a curse imprinted on his memory.

  I gasped as a black and red shadow of ever-after struck David, throwing him into the far wall and out of my sight. "David!" I called as Al started dragging me again.

  Wiggling, I twisted so I was on my butt and not my stomach. I cut a small swath through the snow behind Al as he pulled me kicking to the wooden gate at the front of the garden that led to the street. Al couldn't use the ley line in the graveyard to drag me into the ever-after, as it was entirely encircled by holy ground that he couldn't cross. The nearest ley line I knew about was eight blocks away. I had a chance, I thought, the cold snow soaking my jeans.

  "Let go!" I demanded, kicking the back of Al's knees with my one free foot.

  His leg buckled and he stopped, his irate look clear in the light from the streetlamp. He couldn't turn misty to avoid the strikes since I would be able to slip his grip. "What a canicula you are," he said, taking both ankles with one hand and continuing.

  "I don't want to go!" I shouted, grabbing onto the edges of the gate as we passed through it. We jerked to a stop, and Al sighed.

  "Let go of the fence," he said, sounding tired.

  "No!" My muscles started to shake as I fought to keep unmoving while Al pulled. I had only one ley line charm imprinted on my subconscious, but trapping Al and me in a circle would get me nowhere. He could break it as easily as I, now that his aura would be tainting it.

  A cry slipped from me when Al gave up trying to drag me through the gate and he picked me up and threw me over his shoulder. My breath exploded out of me as his muscle-hard shoulder cut into my middle. He stank of burnt amber, and I fought to get free.

  "This would be a lot easier," he said as I jabbed my elbows between his shoulder blades to no effect, "if you would accept that I have you. Just say you'll come willingly, and I can pop us into a line from here and it will save you a lot of embarrassment."

  "I'm not worried about embarrassment!" I stretched to reach a passing limb of a tree, my breath coming out in relief as I snagged one. Al jerked back, pulled off balance.

  "Oh, look," he said as he yanked me free and my palms came away scraped and bleeding. "Your wolfie friend wants to play."

  David, I thought, twisting to see past Al's shoulder. As I struggled to breathe, I saw a huge shadow standing at the center of the lamp-lit, snow-packed street. My mouth dropped. He had Wered. He had Wered in less than three minutes. God, that must have hurt.

  And he was huge, having retained his entire human mass. His head would come to my shoulder, I'd guess. Black silky fur, more like hair, shifted in the cold wind. His ears were flat against his head, and an impossibly low warning growl came from him. Feet the size of my spread hands dug into the snow as he barred our way. He gave an indescribably deep warning bark, and Al chuckled. Lights were coming on in adjacent houses and curtains were being peeked around. "She's legally mine," Al said lightly. "I'm carting her home. Don't even try."

  Al started down the street, leaving me torn between screaming for help and admitting I was a gonner. A car was coming, its lights throwing everything into stark relief. "Good, doggie," Al muttered as we passed David with a good ten feet between us. Looking harsh in the light from the headlamps, David bowed his head, and I wondered if he had given up, knowing he could do nothing. But then his head came up and he started after us.

  "David, there's nothing you can do! David, no!" I shrieked when his slow lope shifted into a full run. Eyes lost in a killing frenzy, he barreled right for me. Sure, I didn't want to be pulled into the ever-after, but I didn't want to be dead, either.

  Swearing, Al turned around. "Vacuefacio," he said, his white-gloved hand outstretched.

  I twisted on his shoulder to see. A black ball of force shot from him, meeting David's silent attack two feet in front of us. David's huge feet skidded, but he ran right into it. Yelping, he rolled, tumbling into a snow pile. The scent of singed hair rose and was gone.

  "David!" I cried, not feeling the cold that pinched me. "Are you all right?"

  I yelped as Al dumped me on the ground, a blocky hand squeezing my shoulder until I cried out in pain. The thick sheet of compressed snow on the pavement melted up through me, and my rear went numb with hurt and cold. "Idiot," Al grumbled to himself. "You've got a familiar, why by your mother's ashes aren't you using her?"

  He smiled at me, thick eyebrows high in anticipation. "Ready to work, Rachel, love?"

  My breath froze in me. Panicking,
I stared up at him, feeling my face go pale and my eyes go wide. "Please don't," I whispered.

  He grinned all the wider. "Hold this for me," he said.

  A scream of pain ripped from me as Al tapped a line, sending its strength thundering into me. My muscles jerked and a spasm shook me until my face hit the pavement. I was on fire, and I clenched into a fetal position, hands over my ears. Scream upon scream beat upon me. I couldn't block them out. They hammered at me, the only thing that was real besides the agony in my head. Like an explosion, the force of the line ran through me, settling into my center, spilling over to set my limbs on fire. My brain felt as if it had been dipped in acid, and all the time, that awful screaming racked my ears. I was on fire. I was burning.

  I suddenly realized the screaming was coming from me. Huge, racking sobs took their place as I managed to stop. An eerie, keening wail rose, and I managed to stop that, too. Panting, I opened my eyes. My hands were pale and shaking in the light from the car. They weren't charred. The scent of burnt amber wasn't my skin peeling away. It was all in my head.

  Oh God. My head felt like it was three places at once. I was hearing everything twice, smelling everything twice, and having no thoughts that weren't my own. Al knew everything I was feeling, everything I was thinking. I could only pray that I hadn't done this to Nick.

  "Better?" Al said, and I jerked as if whipped, hearing his voice in my head as well as my ears. "Not bad," he said, yanking me unresisting to my feet. "Ceri passed out with only half that much, and it took her three months to stop making that awful noise."

  Numb, I felt spittle slip from me. I couldn't remember how to wipe it away. My throat hurt and the cold air I sucked into me seemed to burn. I could hear dogs barking and a car engine. The light from its headlamps wasn't moving, and the snow sparkled. I hung loose in Al's grip, feet trying to move as he began walking again. He dragged me out from in front of the car, and in a slippery squeak of snow and ice, it sped away.

  "Come along, Rachel, love," Al said in the new darkness, clearly in a good mood as he pulled me over a snowplowed hill and onto the shoveled walk. "Your wolf has given up, and unless you submit to me, we have a good bit of city to walk before I can get you to a ley line."