by Ким Харрисон
Ivy leaned past her cracked monitor. "Why sunrise?"
The pretty elf 's shoulders drooped. "That's when the lines will close to summoning travel and they will make a decision. Right now, Trent's probably still in holding, but as soon as they're sure no one will be pulled out of negotiations, he will be sold."
Sold. It was an ugly word, and I felt my face twist. Seeing it, Ceri shrugged. "Anything you want to do, you need to do before someone buys him, or you will be dealing with a specific demon, not a committee. Committees are difficult, but a single demon is tenacious where a committee will only want to make sure they all get something."
This was wrong. Really wrong, and I sighed when Jenks swore at Ivy, dramatically crossed his chest as if making a promise, then flew to my cracker bowl.
"Trent doesn't have a great deal of value as a familiar," Ceri was saying, her eyes down in what looked like embarrassment, "but it's not often that a potential familiar stumbles into the ever-after without a preexisting claim by another demon. There are a lot of demons who will pay, not caring that there will be a long downtime to bring him up to usefulness. That's what Al does to make his bread and butter."
I hesitated, thinking it might explain why Al was so hot for Nick and then me. "He trains familiars?" I asked, and Ceri shook her head. She had begun to doodle again, and I stared at the pair of tortured eyes taking form on the yellow paper, trapped behind lines of blue.
"In a manner of speaking," she said softly. "He finds suitable candidates, instructs them enough to make them profitable, then tricks them into the ever-after to be sold for his gain. Al is good at it, and he's made an exceptional life selling people to those unwilling to cross the lines to get their own."
Jenks's wings clattered and Ivy clicked her computer off, not bothering to pretend to be working anymore. "He's a slave dealer?" she asked, and Ceri drew a slumped figure of a man at the base of a tombstone.
"Yes. Which is why he's so angry you have his summoning name. It takes finesse to build a list of people who know his name and are potential familiars. Not to mention the effort invested in the pre–soul stealing stage, the drudgery of building them up and teaching them something to increase their value, maintaining the balance of having enough people know his name without having so many that it becomes tedious. And then there's the risk that after all the smut he takes on building up a potential familiar, he will take a loss if they don't bring in a high enough price."
I snorted, leaning back in my chair and crossing my knees as I thought of Nick. "He's a freaking familiar pimp." Tom had better watch out, or he was going to be next. Not that I cared.
Jenks rose, and a column of silver sparkles fell to fill the bowl like frosting. "Ivy, stealing people is his job. You gotta help me here. Rachel doesn't need to do this. It's stupid, even for her!"
My eyes narrowed, but Ivy stretched casually, her belly button ring showing. "If you don't stop badgering her, I'm going to smack you into the wall so hard you won't wake up for a week," she said. Jenks lost altitude, and Ivy added as she headed over, "Someone has to pull Kalamack's ass out of the ever-after. You think I can do it?"
"No," he protested weakly, "but why does Rachel have to? Trent knew the risks."
He knew the risks and trusted me to get him out, I thought, unable to meet Ceri's gaze.
Ivy leaned with her elbows on the center island counter. "Why don't you stop trying to convince her not to go and start trying to figure out how you can go with her."
"She won't let me!" he shouted.
"No one is going with me," I said firmly, and Jenks let a burst of silver slip from him.
"See!" he exclaimed, pointing.
My teeth clenched, and Ivy cleared her throat in warning. "I said I'd get him out," I muttered, flipping through the sketches that Ceri had drawn of the underground demon city.
"And I'm coming with you," he said belligerently.
I exhaled, trying to get my jaw to relax, but it wasn't working. In the past year, living and working with Ivy and Jenks, I had learned how to trust others. It was time to remember that I could trust myself, too. That I could do this on my own. And I would. "Jenks—"
"Don't 'Jenks' me," he said, landing on the rolled-over seam of the yellow tablet, his wings going for balance and his finger pointed. "We pop in, grab him, and pop out."
"That won't work," Ceri interrupted softly, and Jenks spun.
"Why the hell not? Plan B worked with that fish. It will work for Trent!"
Ceri's eyes darted to mine and then back to Jenks's. "Whoever Rachel buys the trips from will simply snag her. Or tell Newt, who now has a solid claim on her."
I scuffed my foot, almost able to feel the raised, slashed circle on the bottom of it. "What if I just go through Newt?" I threw out there, desperate. "She might forget about it."
Ceri stiffened. "No," she said, and Ivy's expression went guarded at the woman's almost-panic. "Not Newt. You already wear one mark from her. She's insane. She says one thing, then does another. You can't trust her. She doesn't follow demon law, she makes it."
I flipped to the next sketch, which showed what looked like the layout for the university library, and Jenks moved to my shoulder, where I was able to judge his agitation by the strength of the draft he was making on my neck. It was cold, and I reached back and covered my bites with my hand.
"Minias maybe?" Ivy suggested, and Ceri shook her head.
"Minias is trying to get back into Newt's good graces. Rachel may as well wear a big bow and sing 'Happy Birthday.'"
I flipped the maps closed. "Why?" I asked, eating another cracker. "They fired him."
Ceri's gaze went serious. "Because Newt is the only female demon left. And just like everyone else, he would risk his life for the chance to engender a child. That was his job. They took a vote and he lost. I told you this before."
Her voice had gotten sharp, but her temper was her way of hiding her fear. Excising it, maybe. "You didn't tell me he was trying to seduce her," I said tartly, egging her on for some inane reason. Perhaps I needed the release of yelling at someone, too. "You told me he was babysitting her."
Jenks's wings brushed my neck, tangling in my hair. "He's been with her, what? A few hundred years? What's his problem? Can't get it up?"
Ceri's eyebrows went high, and she replied dryly, "She killed the last six demons she became intimate with. Pulled an entire line through them and—"
"Fried their little kitty brains," Jenks finished.
I looked for Rex in the threshold, but the cat had yet to come out from under my bed.
"Minias is understandably cautious," Ceri said, and Ivy snorted as she pushed her forearms up from the counter and went to the coffeemaker.
"If it's just a matter of getting there, can't Rachel just stand in a line and…move?" Ivy asked, her unusual look of ignorance hinting at her fright.
Ceri shook her head, and I dropped the pad of paper onto the table. I remembered the time I had stood in Trent's office, one foot in the here and now, and one in the ever-after. I had been entirely safe, unless Al had got a grip on me and pulled me through. "Not unless there's a demon to pull you through," I said, rubbing the goose bumps from my arms. "And I'm the only one going in. Not you, not you, and not you."
I looked at them in turn, reading Ceri's relief, Jenks's ire, and Ivy's annoyance.
"I don't mind a little demon smut," Ivy said defensively.
"Me either," Jenks chimed in, and Ceri shook her head with a soft no. That Jenks had popped back to reality when the sun had come up didn't bode well. "I'm going with you, Rache," he said loudly. "Even if I have to ride in your armpit!"
Ooh, that's a pretty picture. "You don't get it," I said, trying to burn the image from my consciousness. "There is no reason for you to go!"
Jenks rose up, his wings clattering. "Like hell there isn't!" he yelled, shooting nervous glances at Ivy. "You need backup."
Frustrated, I slammed my hand down on the table, and two pixies shot out of my char
m cupboard, shrieking. I hesitated as they flew down the hall and into the night. Great, now Matalina would know Jenks was trying to come with me. The woman wouldn't stop him, but I'd be damned before I took him away from her again.
"I'm not going in there to kick some demon ass," I said softly, trying to be reasonable. "Even with your help, I can't beat off more than one demon at a time with magic, and as soon as they realize I'm there, it's going to be a bunch of demons." I glanced at Ceri, and the pale woman nodded. "I've thought it over, and I can't do it with muscle or magic. I have to do it with trickery, and I'm sorry, but much as I'd like one or both of you there, you can't help me." I looked at Ivy by the fridge, feeling the frustration coming off her in a wave. "You can do more good by staying here and summoning me home." My face burned with shame that I had a demon name, and fear made my voice soft. "Once I've got him."
"This is crap!" Jenks shouted. "Green fairy crap."
Ivy rubbed her temples. "I have a headache," she breathed, one of the few times she had ever admitted to me that she hurt. "Can you at least take Ceri?"
Ceri's rasp of incoming breath was harsh and quick. "No," I said, touching the woman's shoulder in support. "I'm going alone." Jenks bristled, and I leaned over him. "I'm going alone!" I exclaimed. "I couldn't have gotten the sample without you, Jenks, but this is different. And you taking on a bucket of smut so you can hold my hand while I do this isn't going to happen. Don't you get it!" I almost shouted, starting to shake. "Until I met the two of you, I worked alone, even when I did have backup. I'm damn good at it, and I'm not going to put you in danger if I don't need to, so drop it!"
For a moment, Jenks said nothing, his fists on his hips as he pressed his lips together and frowned up at me. From the window came a high-pitched hush for someone to be quiet. "So how much is your life worth, Rache?" he asked.
I turned away so he couldn't see my eyes. "I killed Kisten," I said. "I'm not going to risk either of you." My jaw clenched, and the hurt swelled. I had killed Kisten—maybe not directly, but it had been my fault.
Ivy's feet scuffed the linoleum, and Jenks went silent. I couldn't love anyone without putting them in danger. Maybe this is why Dad told me to work alone.
Ceri touched my arm, and I sniffed back the misery. "It wasn't your fault," she said, but Ivy's and Jenks's silence said different.
"I know how to do this," I said, shoving the pain down. "I was summoned out—like a demon. I can kindle demon magic—like a demon. I have a name registered in their database—like they all are. Why can't I just claim Trent as mine and bring him home? I know he'd go along with it."
"Oh for the sweet humpin' love of Tink!" Jenks shouted, and even Ivy looked discomfited. Ceri, though, put her elbows on the table and dropped her chin into her cupped palm with a thoughtful look on her face. It was the first hint of hope, and my hands grew damp.
"You can't jump through the lines," she said, as if that were the deciding factor. "How will you get there?"
I fiddled with the bowl of crackers, nervous. I had to make a deal with a demon. Damn it, I had to make another deal with a demon. The difference this time was that I was making this choice with a clear head, not being forced into it with death as the only other option. So I dealt in demons. So the hell what. It didn't make me a bad person. Or stupid. Or rash. It made me dangerous to everyone around me is all. "So I buy a trip," I said softly, knowing I'd never look at demon summoners the same way again. Maybe I'd take them seriously now, instead of writing them off as idiots. Maybe I'd been really wrong to accuse Ceri of not knowing what she was doing.
Ceri sighed, oblivious to my thoughts. "Back to the beginning," she muttered to her legal pad. I looked down at it to see a second pair of eyes, decidedly masculine this time.
"So I buy a trip from Al," I finished.
Ivy jerked, and Jenks took to the air. "No," Jenks said. "He will kill you. He will lie and kill you. He has nothing to lose, Rache."
Which is exactly why it will work, I thought, but didn't say it. Al had nothing to lose, and everything to gain.
"Jenks is right," Ivy said. Somehow she had crossed the kitchen without me seeing and was right over me.
Ceri's expression was thick with alarm. "You said Al is in jail."
I nodded. "They incarcerated him again when they realized I can spindle line energy. But he can still bargain. And I know his summoning name. I can summon him out."
Her pretty little mouth open, Ceri looked at Ivy and then Jenks. "He might kill you!"
"And he might not." Discouraged but seeing no other options, I pushed the legal pad of sketched maps away from me. "I have something he wants, and holding on to it will not do me any good. Giving it to him might get Trent free…."
Ceri gave Ivy a pleading look, and the vampire dragged her chair to the other side of me and sat down. "Rachel," Ivy said, her voice soft and full of pity, "there's nothing you can do. I don't want Trent stuck there any more than you do, but there's no shame in not waging a battle that can't be won."
Jenks stood before me with his head bobbing, but his relief made me even more angry. They weren't listening, and I really didn't blame them. My tension rose, and I scrubbed a hand across my face. "Okay," I said shortly, and Jenks flew backward as I stood. "You're right. Bad idea." I have to get out of here. "Just forget the entire thing," I said, looking over the kitchen for my coat. The foyer…I think.
I headed for the front door with no bag, no wallet, and nothing but my spare keys, which I had stashed in the safe with Ivy's living-will papers. Someone had brought my car home, but I had yet to find my bag.
"Hey!" Jenks said from the table. "Where are you going?"
My pulse hammered, and my steps jarred all the way up my spine. "Eden Park. Alone. I'll be back after sunrise. Unless I'm dragged into the ever-after," I added, sounding dry, sarcastic, and bitter. The clatter of pixy wings following made me tense.
"Rachel—"
"Let her go," Ivy said softly, and he dropped back. "She's never had to deal with a situation there was no way to win. I better call Rynn," she said as she headed down the hall. "Then go to the store to stock up. The shops might be closing for a while. There might be riots if the city has to reorganize the lower power structure. This is going to be a rough week. The I.S. is going to be too busy to pick its collective nose."
I passed through the bat-filled sanctuary thinking I wasn't going to be around to see it.
Thirty-two
It was cold, sitting on the top of the bench's back the way I was, my feet on the seat as I looked out from Eden Park over the gray Ohio River and across the Hollows. The sun was near rising, and the Hollows was hazy with a pinkish-gray mist. I was thinking—waiting, really. Just the fact that I was sitting here was a clear indication that the thinking portion of my life was done. Now I had to do something.
So I sat on the top of the bench and shivered in my short leather jacket and jeans, my boots doing little to stop the cold of a November morning. My breath made little puffs that existed about as long as my racing thoughts did: thoughts of my dad, my mom, Takata, Kisten, Trent trapped in the ever-after, Ivy trusting me to fix this, Jenks wanting to be a part of it.
Frowning, I dropped my eyes and brushed a smudge of dirt off my boot. My dad had brought me up here upon occasion. Usually it was when he and my mom were arguing or she had fallen into a funk, during which she would always smile and give me a kiss when I asked what was wrong. Now I wondered if her occasional depression had come from thinking about Takata.
I exhaled, watching the thought leave me like the mist from my breath and vanish into the collective consciousness. My mother had quietly gone off her rocker trying to divorce herself from the reality of bearing Takata's children while being lovingly married to my dad. She had loved them both, and seeing Takata in Robbie and me every day must have been a self-inflicted torture.
"You can't forget anything," I said, watching the words vanish into nothing. "And even if you do, it always comes back to bitch-slap you i
n the morning."
The cool mist of the coming day was damp and pleasant, and I closed my eyes against the brightening sky. I'd been up way too long.
Turning where I sat, I looked behind me over the narrow parking strip to the two man-made ponds and the wide footbridge spanning them. Past the bridge was a ragged ley line, unnoticeable unless you were really looking. I'd found it while helping Kisten fight off a foreign camarilla trying to kidnap his nephew Audric last year, and I'd forgotten all about it until feeling its discordant resonance through Bis. Though weak, it would be enough.
Wondering how little Audric was, I wobbled off the bench, slapped the cold from my jeans, and headed across the lot. I ran a hand over the red paint of my convertible in passing. I loved my car, and if I did this right, I'd be back to get it before they towed it away.
I took the bridge with slow steps, looking down for the telltale ripple of Sharps, the park's bridge troll, but he was either hiding in the deeper water or they had chased him out again. To the left was a wide expanse of concrete tucked in the curve of the upper pond. Two statues were cemented into the ground, and hemmed in between them ran the ley line. The faint red visible to my mind's eye was growing weaker as the sun neared rising, but it was still possible to see where it ran, bound by a wolf on one side and a funny-looking guy with a cauldron on the other, both holding the midpoint of the line stretching from one end of the park to the other. It ran over the shallow water, which was why the line was so pathetically weak here. If the pond had been any deeper, the line wouldn't have been able to survive. As it was, it was leaking enough power to make my skin prickle as I found a fairly clean patch of concrete and sat down just outside it.
Taking a rock, I leaned to scratch a sloppy circle right in the line. Even if the sun rose and broke my summons, I could still talk to Al if I stepped into the line, though he'd be under no obligation to stay and listen. I really didn't think getting Al to stay would be a problem.
My heart pounded, and with sweat breaking out to make me cold, I whispered, "Jariathjackjunisjumoke, I summon you." I didn't need the trappings to force his appearance, I only needed to open a channel. And he came—using the name I had chosen for myself.