by Kim Harrison
“Ah, the family that promised their use won’t give them to us now that Trent is missing.”
Great. That’s just freaking great.
Ellasbeth’s soft, one-sided tearful conversation filtered in from the living room as Quen reached for a chair and sat down. It was unusual, but he was still recovering from the beating he’d taken Monday morning. He’d be on the cusp of having his aura back at full strength tomorrow. It sat sour in me that I’d be risking Ray growing up with no parent at all, but I needed someone to watch my back, and Quen would be shamed if I didn’t ask him.
“I’ll talk to them again,” Quen said, clearly embarrassed. “Unless you want a different pair?”
I frowned. The only other pair that had any chance of making a strong enough connection between elf and demon was a pair that touted itself to be demon slavers. “I don’t know how much it’s going to matter,” I said, frustrated as I started tidying, dropping my dad’s old charms into the box one by one. “I’m having a hard time getting anything to reinvoke.” Friday. I had until Friday night. “What do you mean they won’t let me use their stupid rings?” I blurted suddenly, ticked. “Don’t they know this is for the good of all elfkind!” Quen’s eye twitched at Ellasbeth’s ongoing passive-aggressive conversation with the girls aimed at us, not them. “Don’t you have some kind of authority in his absence? I can probably move the imbalance, but without some power to back it up, I’m going to get smeared into a dark stain on an ever-after rock before any other demon can come out to verify Ku’Sox was behind it!”
Quen lifted a hand and let it fall, clearly at a loss. Jenks just shook his head and darted out of the room, his dust a bright silver. Yelling was getting me nowhere, and tired, I leaned back against the sink. Ivy would be back tonight. Maybe we could just go steal the damn rings.
Rex came in to curve around my ankles, and I ran a hand over my face.
“Can’t you simply explain to the demons what Ku’Sox is doing?” Quen said. “They aren’t stupid. Surely one of them can spot you. Al maybe?”
I never thought I’d ever see the day he would recommend a demon help me, and I smiled. It was short-lived, though. “No,” I said flatly. “They’re afraid down to the last one, and I’m not going to count on Al’s aura being full strength in time.” Quen’s eyebrows rose, and I wiped my hands and leaned into the center counter. “They know what Ku’Sox is up to, better than I do. But the Rosewood babies Nick stole are Ku’Sox’s bribes, life rafts for the demons who back him. They’ll take a sure risk-free bet that might get them permanently in reality over standing up to Ku’Sox and possibly losing everything.”
I hesitated, watching Rex make a slow, nonchalant way to the other side of the kitchen, her tail up and whiskerless face searching. In a fumbling, unbalanced jump from her lack of whiskers, Rex leaped onto the counter by the sink. I smoothly lifted her and set her back on the floor. The tip of the cat’s tail twitched in displeasure as she stared up at the chrysalis. “I have to empty the line of the imbalances and survive long enough for the other demons to agree he broke it. Ku’Sox is stronger than me. Stronger than Newt. Really smart, huh? Making a child that no one can control?”
Quen exhaled in thought, and my stomach knotted. There were too many ifs. Too many maybes. I turned to the cupboard to get something to cover the chrysalis with. “If they don’t give me the rings, I’m just going to go steal them.”
The scrape of the glass going over the chrysalis was loud, and the silence grew as the pixies sang to Lucy and Ray, captivating them—and getting Ellasbeth to finally shut up. On a sudden impulse, I twisted Trent’s pinkie ring off and shoved it under the glass with the chrysalis. Two days. Two freaking days. I didn’t have the time to steal some dumb rings.
Jenks darted in, wincing at his offspring’s noise. “You’re overthinking this,” the pixy said as he came to rest on Ivy’s monitor where he could see the kitchen and a slice of the living room, too. “I say you get the rings, reinvoke them, forget the line, and just pop over to Ku’Sox’s lair so you and Trent can kill the sucker.”
“That’s what Trent wants,” I said, and Quen jerked his head up, clearly alarmed.
“Ah, Rachel?” the older man said, and I raised a hand.
“Relax, I’m not going to try to kill Ku’Sox,” I said, though part of me cried out for revenge. A smarter bruised and battered part of me knew better. “I’m going to need your help, though, to hold off Ku’Sox after moving the imbalance. Will you be up for it Friday night?”
Friday night. Why did I always have to cut these things so close?
“Just try to do this without me,” he grumbled.
Clearly unsure, Jenks dusted a dull gold, his wings blurring to nothing as he stood on the monitor. “Then that’s the plan,” I said, watching Rex pad out of the kitchen. “QED. Quite Easily Done.” Or Quite Easily Dead, as my dad used to say.
It wasn’t a great plan, but it was a plan, and the depressed silence in the kitchen grew until Ellasbeth began shouting at the pixies to get out. They were singing now, and Lucy was joining in, shrieking just for the hell of it. The woman needed help, but I wasn’t going to go in there. Neither was Quen by the look of it, wincing from the shrill voices raised in rhyme and mayhem. Unable to take it anymore, Rex slunk past the kitchen, probably on her way to hide under my bed. Chaos. My life was chaos.
“So I guess the first thing would be to get the rings, preferably without Nick knowing?”
Jenks darted to the hallway to rescue Ellasbeth. “We’re going to have to steal them.”
Quen stood, his pox scars standing out sharp against his pale expression. “I’ll talk to them again,” he said, but Jenks was right. We’d have to steal them, and I stared at the ceiling, going through what I’d need. Rope, silence charms, something to remove aura residue . . .
“Worth a try,” I said as Jenks yelled at his kids to get outside.
Finally there was only Lucy’s loud “singing” as Jenks’s kids left and Ellasbeth staggered into the kitchen, the weight of both girls nearly bringing her down. “Abba!” Lucy cried, her eyes alight as she reached for him. It about broke my heart, but in a good way. Quen immediately took her, having to forcibly pull the blanket-wrapped Lucy from Ellasbeth when the woman indicated he should take Ray instead.
“Coo ox! Coo ox!” Lucy crowed as she patted her blanket, then gently touched Quen’s chin. “Abba, coo ox!”
My face warmed as Ellasbeth’s eyes scanned my kitchen, lingering on the scorch marks, the water glass overturned on the windowsill, and finally to the dusty box. She said nothing, and I would have given a lot to know what she was thinking. Jenks whispered something into Quen’s ear to make him blink, and she frowned. Ever stoic, Quen gently took Lucy’s fingers and pulled them from his face. She was still going on about “coo ox.” I had a bad feeling I knew what she was saying. Ellasbeth, though, was clueless.
“What does that mean, anyway? Coo ox?” the woman asked, clearly thinking our sudden silence meant we’d been talking behind her back.
“Ah, that’s Ku’Sox,” I said, and Ellasbeth’s expression blanked.
“Coo ox!” Lucy crowed, making a show of smelling the blanket. Quen was mystified, but I winced as I figured it out.
“That’s the blanket that Al gave me,” I said. “It probably smells like the ever-after.”
Horrified, Ellasbeth stood, her face red. “It smells like a demon!” she exclaimed, and ignoring Lucy’s triumphant “Coo ox! Coo ox!” she snatched Lucy from Quen, pulling her out from the blanket and letting it fall to the floor.
Staggering under the weight of both girls, she settled herself in Ivy’s chair. “Thank you for getting Lucy back to me,” Ellasbeth said, her expression flashing into irate when she realized her coat was closed wrong as Ray patted the buttons.
Surprised, I stood straighter. “Ah, I just wish I could have gotten everyone out of there.”
Ellasbeth’s gaze came back from the window behind me. Pixies had plastered th
emselves against the kitchen screen, distracting the girls and making Jenks scowl. “Quen told me you bought Lucy’s freedom at great risk to your own,” she insisted. “I can’t ever thank you enough. If there is anything, ever. At all.”
I said nothing, a hundred things racing through my mind. She was going to be Trent’s wife before too long, and something there really rankled me. He deserved better.
Jenks looked up at my silence, his motions to get his kids to leave faltering. “There is one thing,” I said, and his dust shifted to an alarmed orange.
Ellasbeth blinked in surprise. “Name it,” she said as if granting boons was her hobby.
Be nice, I thought, though it was hard, seeing her holding Ray and Lucy when Ceri no longer could. “I, ah, get that you and Trent are trying to make this work,” I said, and Quen paled. “I think it’s a great idea and all for everyone except Trent.”
“Rachel?” Quen said, and Ellasbeth shot a look at him to shut up.
“Really? Do elaborate.”
I knew it wasn’t the polite thing, but no one else would say this, so I had to. “Do you think you could make half an effort to understand who he’s trying to be?” I finished almost plaintively.
“I beg your pardon?”
Jenks winced, darting to the rack and out of range of anything. Quen also quietly stepped back. But hell, I had fought banshees and crazy vampires. If push came to shove, I could take her. Besides, what was she going to do with two babies on her lap? “He’s great at being what you all need him to be,” I said, gesturing at nothing. “Saving the elves and seeing you safe from the threat of extinction. But did it ever occur to you that he wants to be something else? Don’t crush what he can keep for himself. That’s all I’m asking. Let him have what he can.”
Ellasbeth was white in anger. Lucy jumped in her lap blurting nonsense sounds, but Ray stared up at Ellasbeth and patted her trembling chin.
“Never mind,” I said, dropping my head and sighing. “Go get married. Have more babies. Rule the world. You’ll both be great at it.”
“How dare you!”
I calmly watched her stagger to stand, and knowing it would infuriate her, I turned my back on her to get a glass of water. If she tried anything, I’d throw it on her.
“Quen! Take these children. Let me go!” she exclaimed from behind me, and I heard a scuffle. “Take your hands off me!”
The pixies at the window were watching with rapt attention, and I stifled a smirk.
“Don’t do this,” Quen said to her, his low voice gravelly.
“You will take your hands off me!” she insisted, and I let the water run until it got cold.
“Go wait in the car,” Quen said. Then louder, “Go take the girls and wait in the car.” Finally he shouted, “Go wait in the car, or I will stand by and let her say what she really thinks of you!”
I turned around with my glass of water. Jenks was watching from within a copper bowl hanging from the rack, a weird silty dust falling from it. Tense, Quen stood beside and a little in front of Ellasbeth. She was chalk white, her painted lips a bright contrast. I didn’t care if she was insulted. It had needed to be said. I owed Trent that.
“I understand the strain you’re under,” she said, chin high as Lucy’s hand patted her face. “So the door of friendship is still open between us. You mean a lot to Trent. He explained to me what happened at camp, and I understand your feelings for him.”
My feelings for him? What happened at camp? What was she talking about?
Seemingly satisfied at my cautiously puzzled expression, she pulled herself straighter. “Please bring my fiancé home to us.”
“That’s my intent,” I said dryly, and Quen tugged at her elbow. “But when I do, don’t kill him slowly. Let the man breathe.”
Eyes narrowed, she turned slowly under the weight of the girls and stalked to the hall. “Quen?” she said imperiously. “I will be waiting in the car. Call ahead and see that a bath is drawn for both girls by the time we get to Trenton’s holdings. I want to stop on the way for an entirely new set of clothes for Lucy.”
“It’s only the clothes she has on that are tainted,” Quen said, and the woman glared from the hallway.
“This entire church smells! She will have a new wardrobe!” she exclaimed, then click-clacked her slow, ponderous way to the door, the two girls calling in delight at the pixies waiting for them in the sanctuary.
Okay, that was probably going to come back and bite me on the ass, but I didn’t care. Trent would thank me for it someday. Setting the water aside, I scooped up the blanket Ellasbeth had let fall and brought it to my nose. After three wash cycles, I couldn’t smell anything, but I wasn’t an elf.
Jenks whistled long and loud. “Damn, Rache, you sure know how to make friends.”
Quen took the blanket from me, giving it a sniff as well. “Thank you for making the next forty minutes of my life hell,” he muttered, clearly not smelling anything, either.
A tiny smile quirked the corner of my mouth up. “I’m sorry.”
“No, you aren’t,” he said darkly. “You enjoyed it.”
“Oh, you’re just mad that I could say it and you couldn’t.” Taking the blanket back, I folded it up.
“Quen!” Ellasbeth shouted. “Come open this door! My hands are full with the children.”
“I’ll get it,” Jenks offered, and Quen shot him a thankful glance. Immediately my mood swung back to melancholy as Jenks darted out, halfheartedly telling his kids to leave Lucy and Ray alone.
Still holding the faint remnants of a smile, I pushed away from the counter to give Quen a hug. Ceri was gone, and it hurt. My eyes closed as his arm went around me and the scent of burnt amber mixed with the smell of wine and cinnamon. “I’m sorry,” I said as I stepped back, and his eyes took on a deeper shine.
“Thank you for bringing Lucy back to us,” he said, and I shrugged with one shoulder.
“I wish I could have—” My throat closed. Damn it, how could Ceri be dead?
“It wasn’t your task,” Quen said, and I forced myself to look up. “It was no one’s fault.”
“But . . .”
He smiled, the pain thick in the new wrinkles around his eyes. “She’d tell you to mind your own business and to not blame yourself.”
My head dropped. Probably in loud, small words so I wouldn’t run the risk of misunderstanding. “She would at that,” I said, and he touched my shoulder as he turned away.
“Quen,” I said, and he halted. From the front of the church came a loud boom of sound as the door shut, then blessed silence. I looked at Quen. I had things I wanted to say, that Trent was braver than I had thought, and foolish. That I trusted him, but I also knew there were limits to magic and luck. That I didn’t see a happy ending to this.
“I don’t think Trent is planning on coming back unless he can kill Ku’Sox,” I said flatly, and Quen’s lip twitched. “That Lucy is safe has given him more freedom to act, but unless we can convince the other demons to band up against Ku’Sox, I don’t see a happy ending to this.” I lifted a foot and rubbed the back of my calf to hide my trembling.
Quen’s expression gave me no clue as to what he was feeling. “You think he can do it?”
My breath came fast. “Kill Ku’Sox? Frankly, no. Not alone. All the demons together were only able to shove the psycho in a hole in reality. It might be different now.” I looked at the ceiling, avoiding his eyes. “Sorry about Ellasbeth. I don’t know what came over me.”
Quen chuckled, his shoes scraping as he put a light hand on my shoulder again. “Thank you for trusting Trent,” he said, his eyes heavy with emotion. “Not many do, and even fewer for the right reasons.” He looked toward the front of the church. “I should be able to manipulate line energy tomorrow. It would be my honor to help you at the Loveland line.”
My heart pounded, and a wave of relief took me, even as I worried it might end in more grief, more pain. “Thank you.”
“But I have a favor to
ask.”
My head snapped up. Elves asking for favors was never good. “What?” I said flatly.
Quen’s gaze dropped, then came back to mine. “I asked this before, and I’m asking you again.”
Shit. “Quen,” I whined. “I’m not going to do your job. Look at that woman out there. You think she will let me anywhere near him again? And that’s even assuming we all make it out of this alive.”
Taking my hand, he turned it over so the demon mark on my wrist showed. His eyes were filled with grief as they met mine. “Rachel, I didn’t mean it to happen, but I have someone else I have to protect now. Someone besides Trent.”
I remembered Ray on his hip and Lucy’s hands eagerly reaching for him. It was the right thing to do, but still . . . panic slid through me. “Quen, I don’t even like him. I mean, I do, but I live here, and you live there, and how am I supposed to keep track of him when I’ve got my own stuff to do and that woman—”
“Please.” Quen’s expression was pained. “I’m not asking you to do my job. Just . . . understand that I can’t be what he needs anymore to survive. I can’t devote myself to him. Ray—” His voice choked off. It was low when he spoke again. “Ray needs me. All of me, not the thin sliver of me that’s left when Trent needs help. She won’t be safe until Ku’Sox is dead, but after that, I am hers, not Trent’s. You don’t have to work for him, just be there when he needs it. That’s all I’m asking. And maybe don’t let Ellasbeth snuff everything he wants to be.”
My pulse was hammering. I recalled Trent pulling Nick off me, the power that had flowed through me when he’d broken the charm hiding me from Al, waiting until I knew what I would lose if I turned my back on my future, and finally that kiss we had shared. It had only been a kiss—no feelings behind it but my own selfish pleasure. Then I thought of Ellasbeth. He had a duty there, one I knew he would sacrifice everything for. “But . . .”
“I wasn’t sure until now, but I know you’ll be what he needs.”
What he needs? “What about me? Who is going to risk their life for me?”
Quen’s eyes came back to mine. “He will, of course.”