A Fistful of Charms th-4

by Ким Харрисон

  While Jenks pretended interest in his sea monkeys, I put my knotted hair on a saucer and set the burning gray candle to it. The ring of hair flared up, curled in on itself, and died. Feeling safer, I blew the candle out, then maneuvered around Jenks to wash the ash down the sink. I wanted all evidence of this gone as fast as possible.

  "Sorry for waking you up," I said. Reaching for the salt, I rubbed the blood symbol off the table with a paste of it.

  Jenks straightened from where he'd been leaning over his pets. His eyes were worried. "Did you know you look really scary when you do ley line magic?"

  A sliver of fear took me. "How?" I asked, conscious of my two demon marks, weighing heavily on my wrist and the underside of my foot.

  Dropping his eyes, Jenks shrugged. "You look tired, older. Like you've done it so many times that you don't care anymore. It's almost as if you have a second aura, and when you do ley line magic, it becomes dominant."

  My lips curved down and I went to wash my fingers. "A second aura?" That sounded absolutely fabulous. Maybe it was because I was my own familiar?

  He nodded. "Pixies are sensitive to auras. You really damaged yours with that last curse." Jenks took a breath. "I hate Nick. You're hurting yourself to help him, and he doesn't even care. He sold you out. Rache, if he ever hurts you again—"

  "Jenks, I…" I fumbled. I put a hand on his shoulder, and this time he didn't flinch. "If I'm going to be able to walk away from this, I have to do it. This is for me, not him."

  Jenks pulled back, looking over the empty room. "Yeah, I know."

  I felt odd as he went to the table and looked at the remnants of the demon curse. "That's the real one?" he said, not touching it.

  Pushing myself into motion, I picked up the totem. It felt heavier, though I knew it was an illusion. "Matalina is going to love it," I said, handing it to him. "Thanks for letting me borrow it. I don't need it anymore."

  Jenks's eyes widened as it settled into his grip. "You want me to hold the real one?"

  "He's going to try to steal it," I said, thinking I'd been stupid to trust Nick in the first place. "If you have it, he'll get the wrong one."

  Depressed, I hefted the old statue. It felt dead inside, like a chunk of plastic. "I'll keep this one with me along with the wolf statue," I said, dropping the statue into my bag.

  The front door opened, spilling light over the unmade beds. Jenks turned smoothly to the door, but I jumped when Nick came in, dirty and smelling of grease. Jax was on his shoulders, immediately abandoning him to see how his new pets were doing.

  My hand slid across the table, brushing the salt circle into my hand and dropping it into the sink. I wondered how bad it smelled of extinguished candle, burned hair, and burnt amber.

  There was a thump from the back bedroom, and Ivy came out in her bathrobe, hair in disarray, and hunched like a bridge troll. Snarling at Nick about the noise, and with a hand over her face, she limped past Jenks and me to vanish into the bathroom. Immediately the shower went on. The clean scent of oranges slipped under the door with the steam. I didn't want to know what she'd done last night to be limping today. I didn't.

  Guilt-strewn and weary, I sat at the table. Jax found the ounce-sized container of sea monkey food, and Jenks stopped him, explaining he couldn't feed them since they hadn't hatched yet. Jax belligerently pointed out two bouncers, naming them Jin and Jen. The small pixy started to glow, which attracted the brine shrimp, and Jax had a fit of delight when they bounced closer. I couldn't help but smile. It was still on me when I turned, finding Nick awkwardly waiting for me. My smile faded, and he clenched his jaw.

  "The truck is set, Ray-ray," he said with a false cheerfulness. "It will look like a defect when the air bag doesn't work." He winced. "I, uh, couldn't let a truck run into me—even if I knew I was going to wake up alive."

  "Trust is the difference between you and us Inderlanders," Jenks said loudly, popping the lid to the sea monkey food. Jax grabbed a handful the size of a pinhead and dropped it in with encouraging words, enticing Jin and Jen to the surface with a bright glow. This was a hell of a lot safer pet for a pixy than the kitten, and I wondered if that was why Jenks had bought them.

  I stifled a sigh, turning it into a yawn. I knew Nick wasn't keen on his truck being the sacrificial vehicle, but it wasn't as if he would be able to drive it again. He was going to be playing dead for the rest of his life. Coward.

  "Thanks, Nick," I said, leaning away with crossed arms and preparing for a fight. "Now would you go out there and hook it back up? I'm riding with Peter. If I'm going to kill him, I'm not going to let that poor boy die alone."

  Thirty-one

  Ivy stood just outside the bathroom, wrapped in a white motel towel, short black hair dripping from thin spikes. "You aren't going to be riding with Peter, Rachel. No fucking way!"

  I pressed my lips together and fought to not back up. Okay, so she does swear, but only when extremely pissed.

  Jenks had retreated to the living room, looking like he wished he had never barged in on Ivy in the shower, terrified into playing the tattletale when I told him he was going to be running into me right along with Peter. Nick stood beside him in his grease-stained overalls, and they gave the impression of two boys who had jumped in the creek wearing their good go-to-church clothes five minutes before Pa hitched up the horse.

  "Nick," I said, and he started. "We have four hours before we meet Audrey and Peter." Four hours. Maybe I could get some sleep. "Can you have the air bag fixed by then? I'd feel better if I had it to supplement the inertia-dampening curse."

  "Ivy's right," he said, and I frowned. "There's no reason for you to risk your life."

  Ivy laughed bitterly. "She isn't. Rachel, you are not getting in Nick's truck."

  I turned to my spells on the table, pulse quickening. Her pupils were dilating, but it was in anger, not hunger. I knew this game of arguing with a vampire. "Everything is set," I said. "I made a second pair of inertia-dampening amulets for me, so there's no problem."

  Ivy pointed, unaware I could see the new long scratch on the soft part of her arm running from her wrist to her elbow. "It's not going to happen, Rachel!"

  "It will work," I said. "It's only a joke spell." Curse, actually, but why bring that up?

  Jenks sat on the edge of the bed, white-faced. "Don't ask me to do this."

  Nick shuffled nervously, looking like a garage repair guy in his blue overalls. Frustrated, I rubbed my temples. "The Weres won't believe I let Nick run off with it and we're trying to catch him," I said. "Especially if there happens to be an accident. I'm not stupid enough to let Nick swipe the artifact, and they know it."

  There had been a spike of pleasure saying that. He would look back on the incident when it was over and know I had been thumbing my nose at him. But nervousness returned when I caught sight of Ivy. Scooping up Rex, I sat in a kitchen chair. "It's no big deal," I said, fingers moving to lull her into staying. "The charms will keep me safe. You can follow in the van, and we'll say we're on the way to the drop site in two vehicles. Telling them Nick ran off with it will only get them going after him themselves. They might catch him." Not that I really cared.

  Ivy shook her head. "This is asinine. I've already got it worked out. Peter and crap for brains trade places. We tell the Weres Nick ran off with it and that Jenks went pixy-native to try and catch him. Jax takes his place on your shoulder, and while under a disguise, Jenks runs the Mack truck over Peter by 'accident' while we try to catch him. Truck explodes. Fake statue is destroyed. Peter gets carted to the morgue or the hospital, where we can pull his plug if we need to. Weres go away—we go for a beer. I spent hours coming up with this. Why are you screwing it up, Rachel?"

  Rex jumped off my lap, back nails gouging as she skittered to hide behind Jenks's ankles. I stood, angry. "I'm not screwing it up! And I'm going to ride with Peter! I'm not going to let him die alone," I said, coming out with what was really bothering me.

  Ivy huffed, clutching the towel h
igher about her. "You're alone when you die, even if you're surrounded by hundreds."

  Her arm was oozing to stain the white towel, and only now realizing it, she flushed. Angry, I rounded on her. "Have you ever been there when someone dies?" I asked, shaking. "Have you ever held their hand while their strength left them? Have you ever felt the gratitude in their touch that you were there when they stopped breathing? Have you!"

  Ivy's face went white.

  "I'm killing him, Ivy! It is my decision. And I'm going to be there so I understand what it means." I caught my breath, hating myself when my eyes filled. "I have to be there so I know if it was a good thing when it's all done."

  Ivy went still as a pity born in understanding reached her eyes. "Rachel, I'm sorry…."

  Clutching my arms around myself, I bowed my head so I couldn't see anyone. Ivy stood in her towel and made a wet spot on the floor as she dripped. The scent of the citrus shampoo she used became pronounced, and the silence grew awkward.

  From across the room, Nick shifted his weight and took a breath.

  "Shut up," Ivy snarled, hitching her towel higher. "This doesn't concern you." Her gaze went to my stitches, and I lifted my chin. I wasn't bound to her. I could do anything I damn well pleased.

  Jenks was pale. "I can't do it," he said from the bed. "I can't hit you with a truck."

  "See?" Ivy said, catching her towel when she gestured. "He's not going to do it. I don't want you to do it. You aren't doing it!" She started for her room, Nick moving out of her way.

  "This is a better plan!" I exclaimed, heading after her. "I'll be fine!"

  "Fine?" She lurched to a stop, spinning. "That Mack truck is going to roll over Nick's little blue Ford like it's a cup-cake! And you're not going to be in it. The run is off."

  "It's not off! This is how we're going to do it!"

  Ivy turned. Her eyes were full black. A shiver of fear took me, rocking me to a halt. But I wasn't going to let Peter die alone. I gathered my nerve, and Nick stepped forward.

  "I'll do it," he said, his eyes flicking from Ivy to me. "I'll drive the Mack truck."

  Ivy's anger hesitated, and I ran my eyes over him in surprise. "No," she said flatly. "Absolutely not. You're going with Audrey and staying out of it. I don't trust you."

  Nick clasped his hands, then let them go. "Rachel's right. This is a better plan. They won't be watching Audrey's motel room. After Peter switches places with me, I can leave under a regular disguise charm, cross the bridge, get the truck. Hell, it's DeLavine's truck. Audrey can give me the key."

  "No!" Ivy shouted. "I won't let shit for brains run over you. It isn't going to happen!"

  I rubbed my temples, thinking that actually this was a lot easier than what we'd originally planned. "Ivy—"

  "No!"

  Nick made a frustrated noise, gesturing at nothing. "I'm not going to kill Rachel!" he exclaimed. "I love her, but if the only way to make her safe is to run her over with a Mack truck, then I, by God, am going to be the one to do it!"

  Ivy looked at him as if she had eaten a pile of crap—or maybe she was looking at him as if he was a pile of crap. "You don't know the meaning of love—Nick."

  I was shaking inside. Having Nick run into me instead of Jenks wasn't what I had planned, but it would work. Swallowing, I turned to the kitchen. He could use the regular disguise charm already made up. Oh God. What was I doing?

  Ivy took a deep breath. "Rachel. I don't trust him."

  "When did you ever?" I sat at the table before everyone saw me shake. "I'll be fine. Putting me with Peter will ensure they believe the statue burned with the truck. This is the best plan we have. I don't want to have to do this again if they realize that the statue wasn't destroyed."

  Nick shifted from foot to foot and ran a hand over his stubble. "I'll fix the air bag," he said, apparently deciding I was going to get my way. "And the NOS," he added.

  Suddenly I was a lot more nervous. "Are they watching?" I asked, meaning the Weres across the street.

  Jenks made a soft chirp of a whistle, and Jax came out of hiding to land on his shoulder.

  "Yeah," Nick said, head down. "But from the conversation Jax has been catching, they think I'm modifying the NOS tanks in case I need to leave in a hurry." He swallowed to make his Adam's apple move. "I rigged it to explode on impact, but I'll disengage that too. I'll set up a button for you to push after you get out."

  Jenks looked at Ivy, then stood up, heading for the door. "We've got four hours. I'll make sure it's not going to explode until you want it to," he said.

  Nick's expression clouded. "I know what I'm doing."

  "Jax?" Shoulders hunched, Jenks never slowed down on his way to the door. "Come on. You should know how to rig a radio signal."

  I felt better knowing Jenks was good with explosives too. Nick jiggled on his feet, looking as if he wanted to give me a hug but knew better, then followed Jenks out. The door opened, and I saw three street Weres across the way, yawning as they leaned against their little tricked-out car with wax paper cups of coffee in their grips. It had been cold this morning, but they looked warm enough now that the sun was high, and sun glinted on their bare shoulders and multiple tattoos.

  Ivy scowled at them before looking at Nick's retreating back. "If Rachel gets hurt, you won't have to worry about Weres killing you because I'll find you first, little thief."

  My gut clenched. She would go along with it. It was done. I was going to be with Peter when Jenks plowed into us. "I'll be fine," I said, feeling my pulse quicken. "Between the air bag and the charm, it will be like I'm riding in God's arms."

  The door closed behind Nick, Jenks, and Jax, the slice of afternoon sun vanishing as if it had never existed. Ivy turned, bare feet silent as she limped to her room. "What if God wants you home early?"

  Thirty-two

  A witch, a vampire, and a pixy walk into a bar, I thought as I led the way into the Squirrel's End. It was early, and the sun had yet to set when the door swung shut behind Jenks, sealing us in the warm air smelling faintly of smoke. Immediately Nick yanked it open to come in behind us. And there's the punch line.

  Ivy's lips were pressed tight as she took in the low-ceilinged room, scanning it for Audrey and Peter. It was Friday night, and already busy. From across the room, Becky, our waitress from before, recognized us and waved. Ivy responded with an empty look, making the woman go uncertain. "There," Ivy said, nodding to an empty table in the darkest corner.

  I unzipped my coat and shook my new bracelet from Kisten down. "You're an Inderland ambassador," I said. "Make an effort."

  Ivy turned to me, her sharply defined eyebrows high. Jenks snickered as she forced the edges of her lips to curl upward. She had put on some makeup, seeing as we were out here for a last supper kind a thing, and she looked more predatorial than usual in her leather pants, clingy shirt, and boots. She and Jenks had ridden over in Kisten's Corvette since she would not get in the van with me, and she smoothed a hand over her short hair to make sure every strand was in place. Drops of gold glittered from her lobes, and I wondered why she was wearing them.

  It was obvious she wasn't happy about Nick driving the truck into me, but her logic told her my emotionally charged modifications wouldn't only make it more believable, but logistically easier. Relying on Nick had us both worried, but sometimes intuition had to take a backseat. That was when I usually got in trouble.

  "They aren't here yet," she said, showing how worried she was by stating the obvious.

  Jenks adjusted the collar of his jacket to hide his tension with a smooth casualness. "We're early," he said. Unlike Ivy, he was handling the stress well. He smiled at the women turning to look at him, and there were quite a few jostling their tablemates' elbows and pointing him out. Running my eyes over Jenks, I could see why.

  He was still an eyeful at six-foot-four, especially now that he was acting his size. He had on his aviator jacket, and with his sunglasses and one of the Were's caps turned inside out, he looked good—damn
good in an individualistic, innocent sort of way.

  "Ah, why don't we go sit?" I suggested, becoming uncomfortable at the giggles. Whoo-hoo! The Inderland nymphos are here! Who brought the pistachio pudding?

  We pushed into motion, and Ivy snagged Nick's elbow. "Get some water for Rachel and an orange juice for me," she said, her white fingers gripping him tighter than was polite or necessary. "Just orange juice. I don't want anything in it. Understand?"

  Nick jerked out of her hold. He never would have managed it if she hadn't let him. Frowning, he shook his cloth coat out and went to the bar. He knew he was being gotten rid of.

  Nick fit in well here, and it wasn't just the human/Inderland thing. The bar was replete with skinny women in skimpy outfits, chunky women in skimpy outfits, women who never let their glass hit the table and looked old before they should in skimpy outfits, and men in fleece shirts and jeans who looked desperate. Facial hair optional. Oh yeah, this was a great place to eat before I bit the big one.

  Maybe I was a little depressed.

  A woman in a red dress cut too low for her hips waved to Jenks. She was standing by the karaoke machine, and I rolled my eyes when it started playing "American Woman." Jenks grinned, heading off in that direction until Ivy dragged him backward to the table.

  The woman at the machine pouted. Ivy fixed a look on her, whereupon the woman went ashen. Her girlfriend got scared and pulled her to the bar as if Ivy was going to drain the both of them. Irritated at their ignorance, I hiked my bag higher and plodded after Ivy and Jenks.

  My fingers were starting to sweat, but I couldn't let go of my shoulder bag. Inside it was the defunct focus and the wolf statue. The real focus was sandwiched between Jenks's silk boxers at the motel, though only Jenks and I knew it. I'd have told Ivy, but leaving it unattended didn't fit in with her plan, and I wasn't up to arguing with her. Nick wanted the focus. I had to believe he'd steal anything I was protecting. God, please prove me wrong?