by Kim Harrison
“Last night was me trying to keep Al from abusing his right to check on me to abduct other people,” I said in a huff. “That it might get Pierce back is no small thing, but do you really think I’m only going to rescue people I want to jump in the sack with? Not that I’m looking to jump in the sack with Pierce,” I amended as Jenks raised a pointed finger. “I rescued Trent, didn’t I?”
“Yeah, you did.” Jenks dropped his hand. “I never understood that either.”
Rex stretched on her hind feet to pat the doorknob, and I went to my dresser for a set of undies. “Hold on, Rex,” I crooned. I knew how she felt. I had to go, too.
“Rache, even if you do help him, I don’t trust the guy. I mean, he’s a ghost!”
My eyebrows rose. This is why he’s suddenly gung ho on Marshal, I thought. Jenks thought he was the safer of the two. Irritated, I slammed the drawer shut, and he rose up in a burst of light. “Will you get off it!” I exclaimed. “I am not attracted to Pierce.” At least, not enough to do anything about it. “If I don’t make Al treat me with respect, everyone around me is in jeopardy. Okay? That’s why I’m doing this, not because I need a date.”
Jenks’s wings hummed. “I know you,” he said in a hard voice. “You can’t get to a happy ending from here. You’re self-sabotaging by chasing something you can’t have.”
Self-sabotaging? Is he not even listening to me? Black socks in hand, I looked up at him, finding we were eye to eye. “You watch too many daytime talk shows,” I said, then shut the drawer. Hard.
Jenks said nothing, but his words kept pricking me as I yanked a pair of jeans off a hanger. Mia had said I was running, afraid to believe someone could survive being with me, that I’d be alone out of fear. She said that even though I lived with Ivy and Jenks, I was still alone. Upset, I looked at my sweaters, stacked up in the organizer Ivy had gotten me, not really seeing them. “I don’t want to be alone,” I breathed, and Jenks was suddenly at my shoulder.
“You aren’t,” he said, his voice heavy with concern. “But you need someone besides me and Ivy. Give Marshal a chance.”
“This isn’t between Marshal and Pierce,” I said as I pulled out a black sweater. But my thoughts kept returning to Jenks yelling at Ivy to pick me up because he was too small to do it. Ivy couldn’t touch me or show me she loved me without that damned blood lust kicking in. I had good friends who would risk their lives for me, but I was still alone. I’d been alone since Kisten died, even when Marshal and I did stuff together. Always alone, always separate. I was tired of it. I liked being with someone, the closeness two people could share, and I shouldn’t feel I was weak for wanting it. I wouldn’t let what Mia said become the truth.
Tucking my clothes under my arm, I smiled thinly at Jenks. “I hear what you’re saying.”
Jenks rose up and followed me. “So you’ll give Marshal a chance?”
I knew his being too small to help me had torn him up. “Jenks,” I said, and his wings went still. “I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but I’m okay. I’ve been picking myself up off the floor for twenty-six years. I’m good at it. If Marshal and I were to change things, I’d want it to be for a real reason, not because we were both lonely.”
Jenks’s wings drooped. “I just want you to be happy, Rache.”
I glanced at Rex, twining about herself under the knob. “I am,” I said, then added, “Your cat needs to go out.”
“I’ll get her,” he muttered, and when I opened the door, both he and the cat darted out.
“Marshal?” I peeked around the door frame to find that Jenks and Rex had already reached the back living room and that the hall was empty. “I’ll be right there.”
From the kitchen came the sound of a sliding chair, followed by Marshal’s familiar, resonant voice saying, “Take your time, Rachel. I’ve got coffee, so I’m happy.” There was a hesitation, and as I waited to see if he was going to look into the hall, he added in a preoccupied voice, “What’s in the potions? It smells like carbonic wax.”
“Uh,” I stammered, not wanting to tell him they didn’t work. “Locator charms for the FIB. I have to invoke them and put them in disks,” I added so he’d leave them alone.
“Cool,” he said softly. The squeak of Jenks opening the pixy/kitty door was obvious, and confident that Marshal wasn’t going to peek into the hall, I made the dash to my bathroom, easing the door closed when I heard Jenks and Marshal start to talk.
“Oh, that’s nice,” I whispered when I saw my reflection. Black rings made an obvious showing under my eyes, and I was as pale as Jenks’s ass. I’d showered before bed to try and warm up, and sleeping with damp hair had left it looking like snakes had been in it. Thank God Marshal hadn’t come out of the kitchen. My complexion amulet would take care of the circles, and I got the water going and slowly undressed while I waited for it to warm.
Carefully, until I knew how dizzy it would make me, I sent my awareness to my ley line out back. Vertigo eased in, and I let go of the line immediately. I wasn’t going to be setting a circle any time today, but it was better than last night, and I hoped I wasn’t putting myself in danger by walking around not able to set one.
“Nothing different from the first twenty-six years of your life,” I whispered, but then again, I hadn’t had vampires, demons, and freaked-out elves gunning for me then either.
Because I was mindful of Marshal waiting, my usual twenty-minute indulgence became a hasty five-minute splash-and-dash. My thoughts kept cycling between Marshal in my kitchen and Pierce in the ever-after. Complaining to Dali wasn’t a good option. Neither was trying to jump the lines until I could hold one without pain. Al wasn’t playing fair, and it was up to me to make him. There had to be a way to get him to respect me other than resorting to Dali.
But my mind stayed blissfully empty all the way through the shampoo, rinse, and repeat.
It was finally the low rumble of Marshal’s voice as I was toweling my hair that reminded me I had a more immediate problem sitting in my kitchen drinking coffee. I swung my hair around and wiped the mirror clear, wondering what I was going to do about this. Jenks had probably filled his head with nonsense. I couldn’t be Marshal’s girlfriend. He was too good a guy, and though he was able to react in a crisis, Marshal probably never had people trying to kill him.
I dressed quickly, then yanked a brush through my damp hair and left it to dry. Jenks’s voice was clear as I opened the door and padded stocking-footed to the kitchen. I entered the sun-drenched kitchen to see that the fridge was duct-taped shut, but otherwise normal looking. Jenks was at the table with Marshal, and the tall man looked like he belonged, sitting with the pixy and one of Jenks’s kids fighting his noon nap.
Marshal met my eyes, and my smile faded. “Hi, Marshal,” I said, remembering how he had helped Jenks and me in Mackinaw when we really needed it. I’d always be grateful for that.
“Morning, Rachel,” the witch said as he stood. “New diet plan?”
I followed his eyes to the fridge, reluctant to tell him I’d blown it up. “Yup.” I hesitated, then, recalling him visiting me in the hospital, I gave him a quick hug, hardly touching him. Jenks rose with his kid and moved to the sink and the slice of sun. “Any news on my classes?”
Marshal’s broad shoulders lifted and fell. “I haven’t checked my e-mail today, but I’m going in later. I’m sure it’s just a glitch.”
I hoped he was right. I’d never heard of a university refusing money. “Thanks for breakfast,” I said as I looked at the open box of doughnuts on the counter. “That’s really nice.”
Marshal ran a hand over his short black hair. “Just checking on you. I’ve never known anyone to sneak out of the hospital before. Jenks said you had a run-in with Al last night?”
“You made coffee?” I said, not wanting to talk about Al. “Thanks. Smells good.” I headed for the carafe beside the sink.
Marshal clasped his hands in front of himself and then let go, as if realizing how vulnerable it made him
look. “Ivy made the coffee.”
“Before she left,” Jenks offered, sitting on the spigot with a kid sleeping on his lap.
I leaned against the sink and sipped my coffee, eyeing the two men at opposite ends of the kitchen. I didn’t like my mom playing matchmaker. I liked it even less when Jenks tried it.
Marshal sat back down. He looked uncomfortable. “So, your aura looks better.”
A sigh slipped from me, and I relented. It had been nice of him to visit me in the hospital. “It’s getting there,” I said sourly. “That’s why I was asking Al for today off, actually. Apparently my aura is too thin to travel the lines safely. I can’t even make a circle. Dizzy.” And it puts me in so much pain I can’t breathe, but why bring that up?
“I’m sorry.” Marshal took a doughnut and held the box out to me. “It will be okay.”
“So they tell me.” Coming forward, I leaned over the center counter to take a glazed. “I’m thinking next week it will be back to normal.”
Marshal glanced at Jenks before he said softly, “I meant about Pierce. Jenks told me you saw him in the line, and then Al took him. God, Rachel. I’m sorry. You must be really upset.”
I felt the blood drain from my head. Jenks had the decency to look discomfitted, and I set the doughnut on a napkin. “That’s an understatement. I didn’t know I had that particular hole to plug. Just one more thing for Ms. Rachel to fix.” Along with finding Kisten’s murderer. I am a freaking albatross.
The witch rubbed a hand over his short hair, only two months long. “I understand. When someone you care about is in danger, you’ll move the world for them.”
My blood pressure spiked, and frowning at Jenks, I put a hand on my hip. “Jenks, your cat is at the door.”
The pixy opened his mouth, looked at my grimace, then took the hint. He exchanged some male look with Marshal that I couldn’t interpret, and with the sleeping child on his hip, he flew out. He looked kinda nice with a sleeping child, and I wondered how Matalina was doing. Jenks had been very closed-lipped about her lately.
I waited until even the humming of his wings was gone, then sat across from Marshal. “I only knew Pierce one day,” I said, feeling like I owed him an explanation. “I was eighteen. Jenks thinks I’m looking for men I can’t have a real relationship with so I don’t have to feel guilty about not having one in my life, but really, there’s nothing between Pierce and me. He’s just a nice guy who needs some help.” Because he has the misfortune to know me.
“I’m not trying to be your boyfriend,” Marshal said to the floor. “I’m just trying to be your friend.”
That hit every single guilt button I had, and I closed my eyes to try to figure out what I could say to that. Marshal as a friend? Nice thought, but I’d never managed to have a male friend I didn’t end up in the sack with. Hell, I’d had thoughts about Ivy, for that matter. Marshal was the longest I’d ever seriously known a guy without letting it spill into the physical. But we weren’t really dating. Were we?
Confused, I exhaled slowly. Wondering how I was going to handle this, I looked at his hand. It was a nice hand, strong and tanned. “Marshal,” I started.
The phone rang in the living room, and the extension in the kitchen blinked, on mute from last night. Jenks shouted he’d get it, and I dropped back in my chair.
“Marshal,” I repeated when Rex padded in since her master wasn’t eavesdropping on us in the hall anymore. “I love what you’re trying to do, and it’s not that I don’t find you attractive,” I said, flushing and starting to babble. “But I study with demons, I’ve got their smut all over me, and my aura is so thin I can’t tap a line and do anything! You deserve better than my crap. You really do. I’m not worth it. Nothing is.”
My gaze jerked up when Marshal leaned over and took my hand.
“I never said you weren’t hard to be with,” he said softly, his brown eyes gazing earnestly at me. “I knew that the moment you walked into my shop with a six-foot pixy and bought a dive with a Vampiric Charms credit card. But you’re worth it. You’re a good person. And I like you. I want to help you when I can, and I’m getting better at staying out of the way and not feeling guilty when I can’t.”
His hand on mine was warm, and I gazed at it. “I needed to hear that,” I whispered so my voice wouldn’t break. “Thank you. But I’m not worth dying for, and it’s a distinct probability.”
The clatter of pixy wings intruded, and when Jenks flew in, Marshal drew back. Warming, I hid my hands under the table.
“Ah, Rache,” Jenks said, glancing between us. “It’s Edden.”
I hesitated, my first impulse to have him call me back. Maybe he had something on Mia.
“It’s about a banshee,” Jenks continued. “He says if you don’t pick up the phone, he’s going to send a car.”
I stood, and Marshal smiled and took a doughnut. “Is it about Mia?” I asked as I reached for the extension. My eyes flicked to the useless locator potions lined up on the counter, and I blinked. They were gone.
“Where’s my—” I started, and Marshal waved a hand for my attention.
“Hanging in your cupboard. I invoked them for you.” His eyes widened at my suddenly worried expression. “Sorry. I should’ve asked, but you said they were done. I thought I could help, you know…”
“No, it’s okay,” I said, distantly hearing Edden on the line talking to me. “Um, thanks,” I said, flushing. Great, now he knew I had messed up on them. He made his own charms and would know by the lack of redwood scent that they were duds.
Embarrassed, I turned to the phone. “Edden?” I said, mortified. “Did you find her?”
“No, but I want your help this afternoon with one of these banshee women,” Edden said without preamble, his gravelly voice a mix of preoccupied gratefulness, sounding odd with the original line still open in the living room. “This one’s name is Ms. Walker. She’s the iciest woman I’ve talked to since my mother-in-law, and that was just from our phone conversation.”
I glanced at Marshal, then turned my back on him. Jenks was sitting on his shoulder, his kid probably in the desk where he belonged.
“She called the department this morning,” Edden was saying, drawing my attention back. “And she’s flying in this afternoon from San Diego to help me find Ms. Harbor. Can you be here when I talk to her? Banshees police themselves, same as vampires, and she wants to help—seeing as the I.S. won’t do anything.”
The last was said rather sourly, and I nodded though he couldn’t see it. This was making sense, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to meet this woman if a freaking baby of her species had almost killed me. “Uh,” I hedged, uneasy, “I’d really like to help and all, but my aura is still thin. I don’t think talking to another banshee is a good idea.” Besides, I’ve got to come up with a way to make Al behave today.
Jenks buzzed his wings in approval, but Edden wasn’t happy.
“She wants to meet you,” he said. “Asked for you. Rachel, she made you being there a stipulation for talking to me. I need you.”
I sighed, wondering if Edden was above stretching the truth to reach an ending he wanted. Putting a hand to my head, I thought for a moment. “Jenks?” I asked, not sure about this, “can you tell if she starts sucking on me?”
The pixy’s wings brightened. “You bet, Rache,” he said, clearly glad he could help.
I bit my bottom lip and listened to the echo of the open line as I weighed the risks. I’d like to see Mia get her own for letting her kid try to kill me, and Ms. Walker could help. “Okay,” I said slowly, and Edden made a pleased rumble. “Where and when?”
“Her plane comes in at three, but she’s on West Coast time, so how about a late lunch,” Edden said confidently. “On the FIB.”
“You mean my lunch, or your lunch?” I asked, rolling my eyes.
“Uh, say four at Carew Tower?”
Carew Tower? This has to be some woman.
“I’ll send someone to pick you up,” Edden was saying. �
��Oh, and good job on the AMA. How did you get one so fast?”
I glanced at Jenks, sitting on Marshal’s shoulder. “Rynn Cormel,” I said, hoping Marshal was starting to understand how risky it was to be around me.
“Damn!” Edden exclaimed. “You do have pull. See you this afternoon.”
“Hey, how’s Glenn?” I asked, but the phone had clicked off. Four at Carew Tower, I thought, mentally going through my closet for something to wear as I hung up the phone. I can do that. How am I going to do that? I was exhausted, and I’d just gotten up.
My gaze darted to the island counter where I’d once kept my spell books. Ivy had moved them all back into the belfry when I’d been in the hospital, and the thought of bringing them all down again made me sigh. Al had said there wasn’t a spell to supplement a person’s aura, but maybe there was something to protect a person from a banshee.
I stood to go check, and from the living room came the beeping of the open line. Jenks buzzed out to take care of it, and I froze, remembering I had company. “Uh, I’m sorry,” I said, staring at Marshal’s amused expression as he sat comfortably in his chair and ate a doughnut. “I have to go up to the attic and get some books. To look for a, uh, spell.”
“Want some help bringing them down?” he asked, already stretching into a stand.
“It’s just a couple of books,” I hedged, thinking about the demon texts in with the others.
“Not a problem.” He headed to the sanctuary, pace casual and confident, and I scrambled to follow. Crap, how am I going to explain why I have demon texts?
The sanctuary was silent, warm from the space heater cranked up for the pixies. Jenks had hung up the phone, and he was sitting with his two eldest kids in the rafters on sentry duty. “I can do this by myself,” I said when I caught up with Marshal, and he gave me a sideways look.
“It’s just a couple of books,” he said, then took a bite of the doughnut he had brought with him. “I’ll bring them down, and then if you want me to leave, I will,” he added around his full mouth. “I know you’ve got work to do. I just wanted to check on you was all.”