by Kim Harrison
Jenks laughed bitterly. “So is Rachel. Actually, she’s trying to save all the demons and the entire ever-after, so what’s your point, crap for brains? Didn’t you expect the deranged, freak-of-nature demon to turn on you?”
I didn’t like Jax being so close to Nick, and I put my hand down for him to climb on so I could move him to the end table. “I’m sorry, Ms. Rachel,” he said as he got on and sat down, tattered wings tickling my palm. I said nothing, mad at all of them as I set him under the table lamp and turned it on to warm him. Still angry, I sat in the chair beside him and snatched up the remote, turning the TV on for any news that would indicate we were in worse trouble than before. Setting the remote clattering onto the end table, I traced my cheek where Nick had slapped me. Not hurting him for the hell of it was harder than I thought it would be.
“I knew you wouldn’t believe me,” Nick said, and Ivy shoved the coffee table into his shins to get him to shut up. “I want to help.”
This time it was belligerent, and Jenks laughed. “Help!” Jenks exclaimed, and Jax hunkered down under the light, his back to his dad and looking miserable. “No fairy-farting way!” he yelled, and his kids who had been hovering vanished. “You are not switching sides. You are lying! Rache, why are we even listening to this? Nick put the lie back in believe.”
“I don’t know,” I said listlessly. “Maybe because if he’s sitting in front of me, he’s not coming behind me with a knife. Besides, there’s nothing on TV.”
Nick pushed the coffee table away from his knees, and Ivy pushed it back. Clearly at the end of his patience, he tossed the hair from his eyes and held his wrists up, asking to be released. I shook my head, and he lowered his bound hands. “Ku’Sox dying is the only chance I have of surviving this.”
“You think?” Jenks said, but I could feel Nick’s eyes on me as I watched the news—nothing so far about surface demons at the park, not even a teaser for the end of the broadcast.
“I was mad,” Nick continued. “I thought . . .” He hesitated as my teeth clenched. “I was trying to get back at you, okay? It went too far.”
My eyes flicked to his, holding. Jenks’s wings clattered, and he rose. “Too far?” he said. “Destroying the ever-after and magic to tell your old girlfriend—who doesn’t even like you—that you were mad at her was ‘too far’?”
I didn’t have to say a word. Jenks was doing all my yelling for me. I appreciated it. It freed me up for more important things, like watching the latest insurance commercial. But even so, my anger grew. Because of him, Ray would never know her mother.
“I was wrong,” Nick said staring down at the table, his hands in his lap. “You were right.”
At that, I couldn’t help myself. “I’m the better bet now, huh?”
Relief slipped into his expression as I finally talked to him. “I’m trying to survive.”
“Rachel doesn’t owe you crap, you lying sack of toad shit,” Jenks said.
I put the arches of my feet on the edge of the coffee table. “I don’t owe you crap, you lying sack of toad shit.” That one, I wanted to say.
Nick pressed his thin lips together, his stubble showing strong when he flushed. “Fine. I’ll leave.”
He shifted forward to stand, getting no more than three inches before Ivy stood, the pointy part of her sword touching his chest. Looking at it, he sank back down. The tension was getting thick. I didn’t have a clue what to do with him, much less what I was going to wear tomorrow. “Let him go, Ivy,” Jenks said bitterly. “We don’t need him.”
“He can’t go,” I said as three of Jax’s sisters brought the miserable pixy a blanket. Damn it, he was crying silver tears. I was going to smack Nick into the next dimension for having misled Jax so badly. “He’ll run back to Ku’Sox and tell him how I’m going to smear him into demon pâté.”
“Is that what you think I’d do?” Nick said, his words clipped. “Go back to Ku’Sox?”
I leaned over the table. “If the crap stinks, wipe your ass.”
“I made a mistake!” Nick’s gaze was fixed on mine, and his words were precise. “Throw me a goddamned life preserver, will you?”
My eyes went to the low ceiling, remembering thinking that myself so many times before. His mistake had cost Ray her mother. Lucy, too. “Nick? Shut up.”
Sullen, he pushed back into the cushions. Jax was staring across the room at Belle. She’d come in and was standing beside Rex at the archway, her bow strung and her expression severe. Rex had been Jax’s cat, and I’d give a lot to know what Jax was thinking, both about the cat and that Belle, a fairy, was living under his father’s roof.
“Rache, this is dumb,” Jenks said, wings going full tilt as he landed on my knee. “Call the I.S. to come pick him up so we can get on with what we have to do.”
Standing before Nick, Ivy shrugged, which told me she agreed with Jenks. I thought for a moment, my gaze lingering on Jax, miserable as he huddled under a blanket his mother had made. “I’m not happy about this either,” I said, “but the I.S. can’t hold him if Ku’Sox can pop him out.”
“I told you—” Nick started.
“Shut up!” I snapped, and Jenks dusted a heavy black to pool on the floor. “I used to listen to you, but you lied and I walked.” Leaning forward, I caught his eyes and held them. “Tell you what. I’ll keep Ku’Sox off you if you stay in the church. That’s it.”
“Rache . . .” Jenks complained, and I held up a hand. Like I believed for one second that he would stay in the church?
“Set one toe out of it, and I don’t care anymore.”
Nick exhaled loudly, clearly wanting more. He wasn’t getting it.
“I have stuff to do.” Heart pounding, I looked at the clock on the cable box. “Excuse me.”
Nick’s expression became alarmed at the prospect of my leaving him with Ivy, and sure enough, Ivy smiled to show her teeth, her motions slow and sultry as she almost crawled over the couch to sit beside him. “Can I leave you two alone for five minutes?” I asked as I looked down at her, not altogether kidding, and she smiled even wider.
“I want to talk to you,” Jenks said, rising up with an aggressive wing clatter.
“Sure,” I said, the memory of Jax’s tattered wings swimming up. Behind me, I heard Nick tell Ivy to fuck off. Either she would kill him or she wouldn’t. To be honest, I was more concerned about what I was going to wear tomorrow than Nick’s survival. “How are you doing, Jenks?” I said as went into my room, despairing over finding anything in my closet.
Wings clattering, Jenks landed on my dresser, his gaze on the wall as if he could look through it to see his son. “Peachy damn keen,” he grumbled.
I could hear the gargoyles in the garden rumbling like elephants as I shut the door. A feeling of pity swept through me. Ivy was annoyed—but Ivy often was. I was angry—again, understandable. Jenks had parental guilt mixed with a strong streak of protection, and he was having the hardest time. “I’m sorry about Jax,” I said as I opened my closet door and shoved everything to one side. Maybe there was something at the back that I’d missed, but the only things there were the clothes my mom hadn’t wanted to take with her and were of too high a quality to give away.
Jenks’s expression lost its anger, and he sat, slumped on a perfume bottle, wings drooping. “I didn’t think I’d have to face Jax again,” he said softly, and my heart nearly broke.
“I imagine that’s what he’s thinking,” I said, and Jenks met my eyes. I pulled out a filmy scarf, drawing it through the air and letting it settle on my bed, thinking it might make a good sash. Maybe I should start with the boots and work my way up.
“I just want to . . . smack him,” Jenks said, gesturing weakly. “He doesn’t know how short life is. He’s throwing it away. He could be so much if he’d . . .”
“Come to the dark side?” I said, trying to lighten things up. Jenks was silent, his wings slowly regaining their usual color. Not the white leather dress. Not the black leather pants. My fin
gers trailed reluctantly off my usual leather. I’d be the same person I was before in it—I had to be different tomorrow. I felt different. My clothes should reflect that. I wanted something that said power, and everything I had said power and sex. Maybe Newt had the right idea with her martial-arts outfits and androgynous hairstyles. I wasn’t going to shave my head, but something more masculine might get the demons to stop looking at me like I was nothing but a pair of X chromosomes.
“Why don’t you ask him to come back to the church?” I said as I lingered over an off-white linen leisure suit of my mom’s from the ’70s, the entire era a bastion of post-Turn fashion freak-out. It had bell-bottoms, but it was also form fitting and flowing, the vest showing off my curves without screaming sex. In sudden decision, I pulled it into the light. “For good.”
“What?”
Draping it across the bed, I kicked off my boots to try it on. “If he’s through with Nick, ask Jax to come back. Maybe he’s afraid you don’t love him.”
“Don’t love him . . .” Jenks’s eyes were wide, and his mouth gaped.
There was a pop of air from the back of the church, both familiar and surprising, and I froze, Jenks and I looking at each other. Al? I wondered, and then my heart pounded at Newt’s voice screaming Latin. Newt?
Oh God, they’d come for me.
Chapter Twenty-Four
I lurched out of my room, almost tripping on Rex streaking into the front sanctuary, a ribbon of caramel with a frightened sparkling of black pixy dust from one of Jenks’s kids over her. Ivy screamed from the kitchen, and I bolted. Jenks was a zizzing light before me, and gripping the edge of the frame, I slid into the kitchen. The cloying scent of burnt amber was so thick, I could almost see it.
“Newt, no!” I exclaimed, and she looked at me, her black eyes lost in madness. She had pinned Ivy to the floor, the butt of her staff at her throat. Ivy was wide-eyed, the blackness of her pupils deep with forever. Terrified, she held the end of the staff, unable to shift it. Jenks darted down with his sword, and I cried out a warning when Newt gestured at him.
Jenks was flung backward, his swearing cutting off when he hit the fridge and slid down.
“Stop!” I cried as I tapped the line, and Newt took a magic-hazed hand from her staff.
It gave Ivy a chance, and she spun out from under the stick, going for her katana. Grimacing, Newt turned back to her, swinging the stick to strike her across the temple. It met Ivy’s head with a dull thwap, and she collapsed.
Oh God. Ivy!
“Invader!” Belle shouted from the floor, and Newt shifted the aim of the black ball of death in her hand from me to the fairy, the demon’s white robes furling elegantly.
“Newt, stop!” I shouted, diving in front of Belle to intercept it. I threw up a protection circle as I lunged, but Newt’s magic tore right through, hitting me in the chest as I took the fall, narrowly missing squishing the small woman I’d been trying to protect.
I clenched into a ball, a spasm ripping through me as everything cramped. My feet scrabbled against the floor as I was racked with a curse that felt like it was ripping my spine apart. Newt hauled me up, pinning me to the farm table.
“Don’t hurt Newt!” I gasped as Belle trilled like an Amazon warrior. “Belle, stop!”
Newt’s black eyes stared into mine, wild and alive. Her color was high, accenting her new, spiky red hair, cut short just at her ears. Her fingers were clenched in my hair as she forced my head back, and her staff was across my neck, pressing me into the table. Clearly something had snapped in her. Had she remembered something, or forgot?
“Belle, no!” I cried out as the fairy, poised at the top of the hanging rack, gathered herself to jump on Newt.
“Immolerate!” Newt snarled, without even looking back.
A wave of force pushed from her, and I squinted as the air was pressed from my lungs. Belle was gone, and I panicked. I couldn’t move my legs, and they felt like they were on fire.
“I have to kill you now,” the crazed demon said, and I choked as she pressed into my throat. “And I was doing so well. If I don’t, they’ll believe that I’m responsible for all of this!”
“Fine. Great. But don’t hurt my friends,” I gasped, my hands trying to shove her off me. “Please.”
The muscles of her jaw smoothed, and her shoulders eased. “Don’t hurt your friends?”
“Please,” I wheezed, my grasping fingers brushing the tips of her hair. If it had been an inch longer, I could have pulled her off balance. “My friends. Belle, she’s the fairy—she’s a great warrior. She protects the pixy children who live here. Jenks needs to be alive to help Ivy. Ivy is trying to live with her guilt. Please don’t ruin her. She’s so beautiful inside.”
The fervor of her eyes diminishing, Newt eased up, clearly confused, and I took a grateful gasp of air. “And help Bis,” I said, my hands dropping to her staff, trying to push just an inch more of space between us and failing. My arms, too, felt like they were on fire. “If you have to kill me, will you help Bis? Will you do that for me? He deserves better than to be with Ku’Sox the rest of his life. He’s just a baby.”
“Bis?”
She was confused, and I forged ahead. “And take Al his chrysalis.” My eyes darted to the window. I couldn’t see it; the angle was wrong. “It’s right there on the sill,” I said, wishing she would turn to look. “He thinks he can’t love anymore, but I know he can. Tell him he was right. He used to have wings. They were like stretched moonlight. Tell him I’m sorry.”
Newt took a step back, her grip falling from me. “You know what we looked like?”
Slowly I sat up against the table and rubbed my throat. Ivy was still out. So was Jenks. Belle was standing guard over him, fierce and determined. I didn’t know where Nick was. I didn’t care. “I saw the pools of shallow water, the moss green branches overhead,” I said, voice ragged. “The fog that muffled and soothed the sun.” Newt dropped back another step, her hands loose on her ebony staff, confusion in her eyes. I coughed, sending ribbons of fire to flare and die in my limbs. “The ever-after was a paradise. What happened?”
“We killed it.”
I looked up to see Newt lost in a memory.
“Both the elves and us in our war,” she said, her grip going white on her staff. “Together we killed the ever-after. They could flee. We were left to wallow in our shared war waste. We make it worse with every curse, but we have no choice. To survive, we must set things even more out of balance.”
Somehow I wasn’t surprised that the elf-demon war was to blame. “I’m sorry.”
Newt’s focus sharpened, and her long face grew tight again. “I didn’t want to kill you. They made me do it.”
“I’m not dead quite yet.” Still holding my throat, I slid to the edge of the table and cautiously slipped off. Pinpricks of fire like the stars of returning circulation burst against my skin and vanished. Newt shifted her staff, and I eyed her sourly. Clearly she was having a bad Newt day. “Since when does anyone make you do anything?”
I crouched to feel for a pulse at Ivy’s wrist, and Newt’s face was ugly when I turned back. “They think I’m plotting with you,” she said angrily. “Because I petitioned for time for you. Because my rooms are no longer shrinking. Al has been imprisoned, but I was told to kill you. If I do, they’ll not only let me live another day, but they might listen to me.”
Al was in jail? Crap on toast, it was down to Quen and me.
“Ku’Sox is at fault,” Newt admitted bitterly. “It’s easier to blame you. Killing him is impossible. Killing you is merely hard.”
That was kind of nice. Killing me being hard, not easy.
Jenks was sitting up and holding his head, wings askew. Belle crouched beside him, whispering in his ear as her eyes never left Newt. “If you kill me,” I said, cautiously moving to sit in my chair, “you’ll all only live another week, tops.” I gestured helplessly. “The reason your rooms aren’t shrinking is because I fixed your line. That’s w
hy it is the only one that sounds right anymore. If I had Bis, I could fix them all. Can you get him back for me? Now?”
Newt backed up, confusion in her stance and apparently not knowing what to do if I didn’t attack her. “No. You make it sound easy, not killing you.”
“Easy?” I pushed out Ivy’s chair for Newt with my foot and she stared at it in distrust. “It is easy. What I’ve had to do to save you dumb-asses is hard. First I had to figure out a way to fix the line. And when I do, you let Ku’Sox take Bis from me. I somehow find a way to prove Ku’Sox broke it, and then they convince you to kill me before my deadline. And now I not only have to prove Ku’Sox broke my line, but then survive doing so without Al? Without anyone? Ku’Sox wants you all dead. My God, why do you keep believing him?”
Newt glanced at Ivy, then back to me. “We made him. He owes us his life. He’s going to bring the demons back to the sun with the demon children he has stolen. You owe us nothing. Why would you help us?”
I honestly don’t know. An elbow on the table, I felt my neck. “Ku’Sox is a liar and a psychotic genius. I’ve had a very bad week, Newt. A very bad week. And to top it off, I don’t have anything in my closet that is suitable to wear while saving the world.”
“Are you sure?”
Head tilted, I met her eyes. God, I was tired. “You’ve seen it. Not much has changed since then.”
Newt’s black eyes narrowed. “No, I mean are you sure that . . .” She hesitated, glancing at Ivy. “Are you sure you can prove Ku’Sox is betraying us, not you?”
A rueful chuckle slipped from me. It must have surprised her, because she backed up almost to the door, her staff held defensively before her. “Given half a chance,” I said. “Can you just hold off until tomorrow to kill me? By sunset tomorrow, I can prove all this was Ku’Sox’s fault or he will have killed me himself. If we’re both around come sunup, you can kill who you want, and we can all get on with our lives.”