by Kim Harrison
His gaze on the charm, he pulled the pin. The empty interior of the washer-like charm started to glow a harsh red. Pierce seemed surprised, then he laughed. “Land sakes, I’m a fool. You hold it,” he said, handing it over.
I took it, bemused when Pierce backed up, nearly into the hall.
A faint cramping seemed to make my palm twitch, and the harsh red faded to a rosy pink. I glanced at the box of ley line stuff, and Pierce shook his head, coming back and taking it from me. Again it glowed brilliantly.
“It’s functioning perfectly,” he said, and the spell went dark when he put the pin back in place. “I’ve no mind to guess how effective it will be if it’s glowing like that from me,” and he set it gently on the table.
My lips parted, and I looked at him, and then the charms on the table. “You’re triggering it? I thought it was the spells.”
Pierce laughed, but it was nice. “I’m a spectre, walking the earth with a body that is a faint step from being real. I expect that qualifies as strong magic.”
Flustered, I shrugged, and he put his attention back in the box.
“This one is for calling familiars,” he said, dropping it onto the table with the discards. “This one for avoiding people who are searching for you. Oh, this is odd,” he said, holding one up. “A charm to give a body a hunched back? That has to be a misspelling.”
I took it from him, making sure our fingers touched. Yeah, he was dead, but I wasn’t. “No, it’s right,” I said. “It’s from a costume. My dad used to dress up on Halloween.”
“Halloween?” Pierce asked, and I nodded, lost in a memory.
“For trick-or-treat. I’d be the mad scientist, and he’d be my assistant. We would go up and down the halls of the hospital . . .” My emotions gave a heavy-hearted lurch, and I swallowed down a lump. “We’d hit the nurse’s desk in the children’s ward, and then the old people’s rooms.”
I didn’t want to talk about it, and my fingers set it down, sliding away with a slow sadness. It seemed Pierce understood, since he was silent for a moment, then said, “You look the picture of health, Miss Rachel. A fair, spirited, young woman.”
Grimacing, I picked up the charm and dropped it back into the box. “Yeah, well, try telling my brother that.”
Again he was silent, and I wondered what his nineteenth-century morals were making of me and my stubborn determination. He said I was spirited, but I didn’t think that was necessarily a good thing back then.
“This is one I’d like to take if I might,” Pierce said as he held up a rather large, palm-sized metallic amulet. “It detects people within a small space.”
“Cool,” I said, taking it from him and pulling the pin. “Does it work?”
Again, that cramping set my hand to feeling tingly and odd. The entire middle of the amulet went opaque, two dots showing in the middle. Us, apparently. “Still works,” I said, replacing the pin and handing it to him. “You may as well have it. I’ve got no use for it.”
“Thank you,” he said, dropping it into his pocket with the noisy lock picker. “And this one? It also creates a distraction.”
I grinned. “Another boom spell?”
“Boom?” he said, then nodded, getting it. “Yes, a boom spell. They are powerful effective. I have the understanding to set one unaided, but I need to commune with the ever-after to do it. This one will suffice.”
I had a feeling that most of the spells he was putting in his pocket were ones he knew how to do unaided. I mean, he’d blown the doors in the I.S. tower, and then set a ward over them. I hadn’t minded his using me to draw off the line. Which made the next step of wanting to go with him easy. I mean, I could really help him, not just this tour-guide stuff.
“Pierce,” I said, fingering the charm to make a hunchback.
The man’s attention was in the box, but he seemed to know where my thoughts lay as his next words were, “There is no need for you to accompany me, Miss Rachel. It has nothing to do with your health, and everything to do with me resolving this on my own.” He pulled out a charm. “This is a likely one, as well.”
Momentarily distracted, I leaned until our shoulders touched. “What is it?”
Pierce slid down a few inches to put space between us. “It allows a body to listen upon a conversation in a room set apart.”
My eyebrows rose. “So that’s how they always knew what I was up to.”
He laughed, the masculine rolling sound seeming to soak into the corners of the kitchen like water into the dry sand bed of a stream. The house had been so empty of it, and hearing it again was painful as our lack was laid bare.
“Your father was a rascal,” Pierce said, not aware I had been struck to the core and was trying to blink back the unexpected tears.
“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” I quipped. Why is this hitting me so hard? I thought, blaming it upon my recent hope to talk to him again.
“Oh look,” I said, my hand diving in to pull out a familiar spell. “What’s this doing in here? This is my mom’s.”
Pierce took it from me, our fingers touching a shade too long, but his eyes never flicked to me. “It’s a ley line charm to set a circle, but unlike the ungodly rare earth magic equivalent, you need to connect to a line to use it.”
“My mother is terrible at ley line magic,” I said conversationally as Pierce collected all the discards and dumped them in, my mom’s included. “My dad used to make all her circles for her. She used to set this when she still made his earth magic charms for him.”
I saw him stiffen when I reached back in the box, took out my mom’s amulet, and placed it around my neck. “I can tap a line. It will work for me.”
“No,” he said, facing me. “You aren’t coming. I’ve forbidden it.”
My breath came out in a scoff. “You forbid it?” I said, tilting my head up. “Look, Pierce,” I said, hand going to my hip. “You can’t forbid me anything. I do what I want.”
“I have forbidden you from accompanying me,” he said as if that settled it. “I’m thankful for what you have done, and that you’re letting me borrow your father’s spells shows how gracious and honorable your spirit is. Now prove it and stay home as you should.”
“You little chauvinistic pig!” I exclaimed, feeling my pulse race and my knees start to go weak. Trying to hide it, I crossed my arms over my chest and leaned against the counter. “I can help you, and you know it. Just how are you going to get there, Mr. Man From The Past? Walk it? In the snow? It’s got to be at least fifteen miles.”
Pierce didn’t seem to be fazed by my temper, which ticked me off all the more. He calmly shrugged into his long coat and folded the box closed. “May I still take these?” he asked, eyebrows high.
“I said you could,” I snapped. “And I’m coming too.”
“Thank you,” he said, dropping the last into a pocket. “I will try my best to return your father’s belongs to you, but it’s unlikely.”
He turned to go, me tight behind him. “You can’t just walk out of here,” I said, my legs shaking from fatigue. Damn it, I hated being like this. “You don’t know where you’re going.”
“I know where he was before. It’s unlikely he’s moved.”
We were in the hall, and I nearly ran into Pierce when he stopped short at the door, eyeing the handle. “You’re going to walk?” I said in disbelief.
He opened the door and took a deep breath of dry, chill air. “I’ve a mind to, yes.”
The cold hit me, and I held my crossed arms close now for warmth. “The world is different, Pierce. We’re out, and it’s harder to find just one of us now.”
That seemed to give him pause. “I will find him,” he said, and he stepped out onto the snowy stoop. “I have to. My soul and the girl’s both depend upon it.”
“You won’t find them before the sun comes up,” I called after him. God, what is it with men and their pride?
“Then I expect I should run.”
Then I expect I should run, I moc
ked in my thoughts, then came out on the stoop. “Pierce,” I said, and he turned. There was a whisper of hidden heat in his eyes, shocking the words right out of my head. I blinked at him, stunned that it was there and directed at me. He wasn’t amused at my temper. He wasn’t bothered by it. He respected it, even as he told me no.
“Thank you, Miss Rachel,” he said, and I stumbled back, my eyes darting from his for an instant when my heel hit the frame of the open door. “I can’t endanger you any further.”
He leaned in, and I froze. My heart pounded. I found my hands against his chest, but I didn’t push him away.
“You are fiery and bold,” he whispered in my ear, and I shivered. “Like a fey filly who knows her own thoughts and won’t be broke but by her will. I don’t have a mind to be delicate about it. If I did, I would court you long and lovingly, living for the hour when I would earn your trust and your attentions. I have but this night, so my words must be bold at the risk of offending you and being handed the mitten.”
“You didn’t,” I said, not knowing what my gloves had to do with it. Tension had me stiff, but inside I was a quivering mix of anticipation. “I’d give anything if you’d kiss me,” I said. “I mean,” I said when he tilted his head to look at me, his eyes wide in shock, “I’ve kissed guys before. It’s like a handshake these days,” I lied, just wanting to know what his lips on mine would feel like. “Almost required if you’re leaving.”
He hesitated, and my shoulders slumped when his fingers began slipping away.
“Ah, the devil take it,” he said suddenly, then rocked back. Before I knew what he was doing, he curved an arm around my back, setting his free hand against the doorframe by my head. He leaned in, and as I took a startled breath, his lips found mine.
A small noise escaped me, and my eyes flew wide. I stood there on my porch in the cold and electric light, and let him kiss me, too shocked to do anything else. His lips were cool, but they warmed against me, and his beard was soft. His hand at my back kept me to him, protective and aggressive all at the same time. It sent a tingling jolt to dive to my middle, settling low and insistent.
“Pierce!” I mumbled, nearly driven to distraction by the sudden passion, but when he threatened to pull away, I wrapped my arms hesitantly about his waist. Hell, I had been kissed before, but they were bad kissers, all groping hands and sloppy tongues. This was . . . exquisite, and it plucked a chord in me that had never been touched.
He felt it when my desire rebounded into him, and with a soft sound that held both his want and restraint, he pulled away. Our lips parted, and I stared at him, shaken to my core. Damn, he was a good kisser.
“You are a most remarkable woman,” he said. “I thank you humbly for the chance you have gifted me to redeem my sins.”
Redeem sins. Yeah.
I stood there like an idiot as he took the stairs with a purposeful gait until he reached the shoveled walk. Unhesitating, he turned to the left and picked up the pace to run.
Damn . . .
I swallowed, trying to shake it off. Arms going around myself, I glanced up and down the quiet, snow-hushed street to see if anyone was watching. No one was, but I imagined Pierce had looked before he pinned me to the door like that . . . and kissed me senseless.
“Damn,” I whispered, then took a deep breath to feel the cold slip in to replace the warmth. He certainly knew what he was doing. Not only had he gotten me to stay, but I wasn’t angry with him at all. Must be a charm.
Charm. Yeah, he was charming all right. Like that changed anything?
Pulse fast, I went inside. I flicked off the coffeemaker, and then seeing the dusty box sitting there like a red flag waving in the breeze, I scribbled a quick note for my mom, telling her Robbie was at the I.S. and that I had fled with someone I had met at the square who knew who had taken Sarah. I had the car and was going to help him. I’d be back about sunrise.
I looked at it, then added, LOVE YOU—RACHEL.
I shivered as I stuffed an arm into a coat sleeve. I was going to help a ghost rescue a missing child from a vampire. God! A dead vamp, probably.
“This is what you want to do for a living,” I muttered as I snatched up a set of keys, my fingers trembling. “If you can’t do it now, you may as well go to the coast with your brother.”
No way. I felt alive, my heart pounding, and my emotions high. It was a great sensation, and it stayed with me all the way out to the garage. A spring in my step, I yanked the garage door up and into the ceiling with a satisfying quickness. I usually had to have my mom do it.
As I strode to the driver’s side, my fingers traced the smooth lines of the beat-up Volkswagen bug I had bought with what had been left over from selling The Bat. It ran most of the time. I got in, feeling how stiff the vinyl seats were from the cold. The temperature had been dropping steadily now that the snow had stopped, and I was freezing.
“Please start . . .” I begged, then patted the steering wheel when it sputtered to life. “Tell me I can’t come?” I whispered, turning to look behind me as I backed out with a tinny putt-putt of a sound. Okay, I didn’t have a real license yet, but who was going to give me a ticket on the solstice? Scrooge?
Still riding the high, I putted down the street, lights on and scanning the sidewalk. I found him two blocks down. He was still running, but he was in the street now, probably after finding too many of our neighbors hadn’t shoveled their walks. I rolled my window down and pulled up alongside of him. He glanced at me, then stopped with a look of ambivalence.
I grinned. “Sorry for ruining your farewell speech. I really liked it. You want a ride?”
“You can drive,” he said, his eyes tracing the car’s odd shape.
“Of course I can.” It was cold, and I flicked the heat on. The almost-warm air shifted my hair, and I saw him look at the drifting strands, making me wonder what it would feel like if he ran his fingers through it.
He stood in the freezing night, not a puff of breath showing as he stood to look charming in his indecision. “It’s powerfully difficult to run and not try to breathe at the same time,” he finally said. “Do you know the streets to the east hills?”
I nodded, and my grin grew that much wider. His head down dejectedly, he came around the front, the lights flashing bright as they hit him. I stifled my smile when he fumbled for the latch, finally figuring it out and getting in. He settled himself as I accelerated slowly.
“You will stay in the carriage when we get there,” he grumbled, stomping the snow from his boots, and I just smirked.
Yeah. Right.
SEVEN
Faint on the cold air was the singing of Christmas carolers, obvious now that I’d turned the car off. My car door thumped shut, the sound muffed from the mounds of snow the plows had thrown up, and I breathed slowly, pulling the crisp night deep into me. Above, the stars looked especially sharp from the dry air. It had gotten cold, ice-cracking cold. The faint breeze seemed to go right through my coat. It was about four in the morning. Only Inderlanders and crazy humans were up this time of night, which was fine by me.
Pierce’s door shut a moment behind mine, and I smiled at him over the car. He didn’t smile back, his brow furrowed in an expression of coming nastiness. While he paced around to my side, I leaned against the cold metal and gazed at the house we had parked across from.
We were way up in the hills in the better part of town where the well-to-do had lived ever since inclined-plane railways had made it easy to make it up the steep slopes. The house in question was older than that, making it remote and lonely in Pierce’s time. It was a monster of a structure, clearly added to and rebuilt along with the times, with multiple stories, turrets, and a wraparound porch of smooth river rocks: old money, big trees, and a fantastic view of Cincinnati. Bright Christmas decorations were everywhere, flashing in an eerie silent display.
The sound of Pierce’s shoes crunching on the frozen slush jolted me into motion, and I pushed off the car and headed to the wide porch.
I kept my eyes forward as we crossed the street. “It’s called a car, and you can request all you want, but it’s not going to happen.”
We reached the shoveled sidewalk and Pierce grabbed my wrist. I jerked to a stop, startled at the strength he was using.
“Forgive me, Miss Rachel,” he said, lips pressed thin and tight. “You’re full of grit, but I simply will not be able to live with myself if harm comes to you because of me.”
My own anger stirred. “Then it’s a good thing you’re not alive, huh?”
Shaking his head, he started to tug me back to the car. “I’m sorry for using my advantage to force you. Truly I am.”
Here comes the him-hoisting-me-over-his-shoulder bit, with me kicking and screaming as he locks me in my own car? Not going to happen. “Let go,” I threatened as he pulled me a step. “I mean it, Pierce. Let go, or you’re going to be in a world of hurt.” But he didn’t.
Glad now I didn’t have on mittens, I yanked him to a stop, spun my wrist with a loop-de-loop motion into a modified acrobat twin-hold on his palm, stepped under his arm, and flipped him into a snowbank.
He hit it with a puff of snow, staring up at me in surprise. “Land sakes, how did you do that?” he stammered, eyes wide in the low street light.
I stood over him with my hands on my hips, utterly satisfied. “Try to lock me in the car again, and I’ll show you.”
Pierce started to get up, and I reached to help him. Making a grunt, he accepted, rising to brush the snow from his long coat with sharp, bothered motions.
“I’m going in there,” I said, nodding at the house.
“Miss Rachel,” he started, and I took a step forward, getting into his face.
“This is what I want to do with my life,” I said. “I have a circle amulet. I’m not helpless. And you can’t stop me.”
Shifting on his feet, he started to look annoyed. “Rachel, I’m schooled for this.”