American Demon

by Kim Harrison

  I felt funny when their warm little hands found mine again and dragged me to the door. Zack was tugging the tent taut as Ellasbeth sat on the floor in front of it, trying to look happy as Lucy and Ray left me to give their daddies hugs and good-nap kisses.

  “Thank you for watching them,” Trent said to Ellasbeth when he set Ray in her lap, and the woman nodded, looking lost as she bundled Ray up in her favorite blanket.

  “It’s all I’m good for,” she said, voice thin, and Trent put a hand on her shoulder.

  “It’s everything.”

  I backed out of the room, almost running into Jenks. The pixy had his hands on his hips as he hovered, clearly peeved we’d started without him. I didn’t know what was going on anymore. I knew Trent loved me. I knew the girls looked to me for security. But I wasn’t sure how I felt about sharing that with Ellasbeth. Or perhaps losing it to her. Nothing had changed in the last two months except that there was more pressure from the enclave for Trent to quit messing around and marry the woman as he’d promised, uniting the East and West Coast families.

  “You said you were going to wait for me. What did I miss?” Jenks said, and I winced.

  “Zack, you’re with me,” Quen said loudly, quickly followed by Zack’s exuberant “Yes!” The kid bolted out, looking both scared and excited. Quen and Trent followed and, after a moment of coaxing, Buddy as well.

  “Have a good nap, my ladies,” Trent said as Quen shut the door. “Sleep well.”

  In the silence, I could hear Ellasbeth lock it, and then a wave of magic went up, strong enough to feel when I touched the reinforced wood. They were safe. My fingers slid reluctantly away, and I turned to look at Trent, Quen, Zack, and Jenks.

  “Anyone want to tell me why you just locked your kids in a closet?” Jenks said, and I sighed, shifting my hair from my shoulder to fill him in as we went downstairs.

  CHAPTER

  26

  “Hey, is Pike okay?” I said, phone to my ear as I sat on one of the couches in Trent’s great room and checked in with Ivy. I’d changed from my comfortable security top and skirt back into my jeans and sweater, but it left me barefoot, and I tucked my cold feet up and under me.

  “It’s hard to tell,” Ivy said, and I winced. Her low voice mixed with the soft background sounds of ambient nue-jazz, telling me she was home.

  “Crap on toast,” I said, feeling bad as I stared out the big ward window at the covered pool. “He tried to bespell me. What was I supposed to do? I told him I was busy. The undead need to learn to respect the time of the living.”

  “Since he’s going to be in Cincy, you were going to embarrass him eventually,” Ivy said.

  “He’s staying?” I asked as I remembered Pike’s parting remark about three months to eviction. “And Constance? I thought this was an exploratory visit.”

  “It was,” she said, and I slumped, pressing my fingers into my forehead at the stress she put on the last word. “It’s not you . . . exactly. There’s a lot of concern about Nina and me.”

  I exhaled long and slow. “It bothers them that you’re holding her soul. It puts you and her on equal footing, and they don’t like it.”

  “That’s some of it.” Ivy hesitated, and I looked across the great room to where Quen and Trent were arguing. Trent’s ears were red and Quen’s jaw was clenched. “The old undead believe that you are the one keeping the vampires in line, not Cormel.”

  “Me?” I stiffened. “How would I keep the vampires in line?” Because the Cincy vampires had been unusually quiet as Cormel grew less and less effective. Even the news had noticed that vamp-on-vamp crimes had been decreasing over the last six months, and the vamp-on-human crimes had all but vanished.

  “You have the ability to give the living vampires the power to hold the souls of their undead loved ones. It’s a pretty big carrot for behaving,” Ivy said, and my eyes lingered on Trent, kind of liking how he looked when he was ticked, his stance firm and his expression resolute, white hair floating as he got more and more angry. He was nothing like the man I’d once hated. He was stronger now, even as he was more vulnerable.

  “The living vampires are willing to say no to their masters when it comes to you. That’s what the old ones don’t like,” Ivy finished, and I fiddled with the hem of my jeans, uncomfortable. “I wish you’d met with Constance,” Ivy added. “Nina and I are being asked to come to DC.”

  My lips parted, and I sat up, pulse fast. “When?”

  “Before the end of the year.”

  Damn it all to the Turn and back. Jenks was going to kill me. I should’ve pretended to be weak and a pushover. But no-o-o-o. I’d had to flip Pike over and be the demon. Son of a fairy-farting whore . . .

  “It’s not your fault,” Ivy said. “But downing Pike probably didn’t help.”

  “You think?” I put my bare feet on the floor and leaned over my knees as I tried to process this. “He could have gotten back up and dragged me down there.”

  “I doubt that,” Ivy said. “Or he would have done it. And I did warn him.”

  Hence Ivy and Nina going to Washington.

  “It’s going to be okay, Rachel. Nina and I will do the dog and pony show and come right back. Look, can we talk about something else?”

  Okay. Short trip. Breathe. I forced myself up from over my knees before Trent noticed. “Sure.” I tossed my hair back and took a breath. “Have there been any new attacks?”

  “Not since Sandra, no.”

  “We may not see any more.” I fiddled with the tips of my hair as Zack and Jenks came downstairs, the pixy looking as if he belonged on the elf’s shoulder as they shared a shortbread cookie. Zack appeared tired, as he had skipped his noon nap, but not as fatigued at Trent. “I think the baku is ready to make its move. We’re going to try to contact it.” I hesitated. “Today.”

  “Isn’t that dangerous?” Ivy said, and Jenks, now sitting on one of Trent’s orchids, snorted. A few feet away, Zack collapsed into a chair and dragged Buddy up with him, tags jingling.

  “Not as much as waiting until one of us falls asleep.” I eyed Trent’s stiff resolve as his stance with Quen became decidedly aggressive. He was still in his slacks and dress shirt, pegging my meter with that loosened tie about his neck. “We should be able to. I mean, if the elves created it, they had to communicate with it somehow without being eaten alive. Zack says that Landon talked to it while meditating.”

  Zack gave me a thumbs-up, but I didn’t feel any better. “We’re hoping to find a way to contain it,” I said. “It as much as said it could be done the last time I pushed it out of my mind.”

  Ivy was silent, the quick staccato of her tapping pen obvious. “I can be there in forty minutes,” she said, and Jenks waved his hands dramatically, clearly wanting her to stay out of it. I agreed. Ivy didn’t do well with possession, and that was what it would be if things got out of hand.

  “I’m not going to pretend to love a woman that I don’t,” Trent said loudly, drawing my attention. “I don’t care how many votes it gets me in the enclave.”

  “Your father knew the strength of the enclave,” Quen said calmly, his silhouette tall and dark as he stood before the gigantic fireplace, but his hands were clenched, and I swear I saw magic leaking from between his fingers.

  Temper fraying dangerously, Trent lifted his chin. “Yes? Well, I know the strength of love.”

  “Ah, Quen is here to spot us,” I said as I held the phone closer, hoping Ivy wasn’t hearing this. They were arguing over Ellasbeth. Or me, rather. “And Jenks.”

  Trent turned as if to go, jerking to an annoyed halt when Quen took his arm. “Your father wouldn’t have shirked his duties,” Quen said, and Trent yanked from his grip.

  “My father married a woman he despised. He was never happy, and because of it, she was never happy,” Trent said, and I winced. Jenks flew to me, trailing an unhappy or
ange dust.

  “Okay,” Ivy said, her easy acceptance telling me she could hear everything and wanted no part of it. “It sounds as if you have enough help. Call me when you’re done so I can sleep today, but if you need me, I’m there.”

  “Don’t chip your fang. We’ve got this,” Jenks said from my shoulder.

  “Your father created an empire that those weaker than you are destroying,” Quen said stiffly. “If you allow a closer tie to Ellasbeth, you will regain votes. It’s that simple.”

  “No,” Trent said, and when he tried to leave again, Quen drew him back.

  “It will ensure your Sa’han status,” Quen said softly, his angry voice laced with an old pain. “One word from you and the danger Landon represents will be gone. One word and the lawsuits will stop. One word and the sabotage and corporate takeovers will end. This is what your father made, Trent. This is what he gave you. He made you a prince, and your stubbornness is making you a pauper.”

  For a heartbeat, Trent said nothing. “I would rather have had his love.” Turning, Trent strode away, and the static from his leashed magic pulled the magazines from a nearby table to the floor behind him.

  My eyes widened and Buddy slunk away to hide under a chair. “Uh, I gotta go,” I said.

  “Call me when you’re done,” Ivy reminded me, and I nodded, eyes on Trent as he stood at the window and stared at nothing. His hair was floating, and he ran a hand to smooth it.

  “Will do,” I said, then hung up.

  “Huh.” Jenks took to the air. “The little cookie maker has a temper after all.”

  “Give him a break,” I said. “His kids are locked in a safe room.”

  “That would put thorns in my jockstrap, too, but you’re fooling yourself if you think that’s what’s bothering him.” Wings humming, he flew to Trent, whispering something in his ear. It seemed to work, as Trent glanced at me and slowly exhaled. I’d have given a lot to know what he’d said.

  “I should be the one to talk to the baku,” Quen said, and I gave him a long sideways look as he stood at the outskirts and tried to pretend their argument had never happened.

  “I’m the Sa’han whether they like it or not. I do it.” Trent came back to sit across from me. Seeing the magazines, he picked them up and set them aside.

  Quen’s hands clenched and released. “It wants you dead so its proposed long-term host will have more power. The risk is too high.”

  Trent looked up, his face lined with worry and fatigue. “It is attracted to Rachel’s aura. Mine is closer to hers than yours. I’m the clear choice. Rachel can’t do it.” I took a breath to protest, and he added, “Or we could do a spread on both our souls and see whose is the least damaged.”

  I shook my head and pressed into the couch. No way. If Trent saw, he would freak.

  “Okay, then.” Trent dusted his hands and pushed forward in the chair, his feet squarely on the floor. “You should zip-strip me just in case.” Zack bobbed his head, his eyes wide and scared. I felt sick, and when no one moved, Trent faced Quen. “You generally have a zip-strip or two on you, don’t you, Quen?”

  “This is a bad idea . . . ,” Quen said as he reached into his pocket.

  Trent held his wrist out. “If Rachel kicked it out, I can. I won’t let it go too far. This is the best way to learn about the baku with your memory gone.”

  Quen’s jaw clenched and I winced. Harsh but true.

  Motions rough, Quen fastened the charmed silver about Trent’s wrist and ratcheted it closed. Trent shuddered as his contact with the ley lines was cut off, and I winced in sympathy.

  “I’ll snap you out of it if you turn violent,” I said, and Quen’s mood darkened even more. Arms behind his back, he fell into parade rest behind Trent’s chair.

  “God, yes.” Trent jiggled his wrist to adjust the strip. “A light trance should be enough.”

  “Landon meditated when he talked to it,” Zack said.

  “See?” Trent half-turned to give Quen a dry look. “Not a problem. I meditate all the time. If Landon can do this without being stripped to his core, I can.”

  But Landon’s soul looked like decayed pus, and I fidgeted, nervous.

  “Rachel, it will be okay,” Trent said, and my eyes met his across the low table. “The baku is bound to be lurking around, waiting for you to fall asleep. I merely have to contact it and dig for answers.”

  I took a slow breath to steady myself. “Don’t fall asleep,” I said, remembering the terror of the baku digging deep, eating the best parts of myself—the parts that made living with the things I had to do to survive tolerable. “You can’t kick it out if you fall asleep.”

  “No worry there.” Trent settled his hands in his lap and closed his eyes.

  Jenks took to the air and flew to Zack. “I’ll keep an eye on his aura,” he said as he settled on the kid’s shoulder. “You smack him if he starts to talk in tongues.”

  This was my idea, but I didn’t like it, and as Trent’s breathing slowed, Quen jolted into motion. “What are you doing?” I whispered as he took what I guessed was a bag of salt from a nearby desk drawer and began spilling it into a circle around Trent.

  “Fortune favors the prepared,” Quen muttered as he edged between Trent and the table.

  “He’s strapped,” I protested.

  “Landon was never violent,” Zack added.

  “Landon wasn’t trying to piece together how to capture it.” Quen finished the circle and tossed what was left of the spelling salt to me.

  “Trent can be circumspect.” I set the bag down, and Trent sighed and cracked an eye open.

  “It’s hard to meditate when you’re all talking.”

  “Sorry,” I said, and he closed his eyes again.

  Zack settled back in his chair with Jenks, both of them watching Trent. Quen moved so his shadow fell across the table, making it clear that he didn’t approve. I sat and waited, fidgeting. Slowly the ticking of the clock on the enormous mantel became obvious. The huge, empty fireplace sat behind Trent, and I again wondered if they’d used it to brick up an entire wing. There was nothing behind it but the bluff the house had been built into. Maybe his mother’s wing had been underground.

  I sat straighter as a soft lassitude threatened to slip into me, and I tickled the top of my mouth with the tip of my tongue to stay awake. Trent’s breathing slowed, and the memory of hearing it beside me as I slept slipped through me, soothing. I blinked fast, and I took up the bag of salt, shifting it from hand to hand to prove to myself that I wasn’t falling asleep.

  I’m awake. Eyes open, I dropped the bag to my right hand, then my left, all in time with the ticking clock. I’m wide-awake.

  But it was hard to stay that way when Trent began a meditation hum. It was more of a drone really, almost singing, a gathering of power or an invitation for the Goddess to attend.

  My head bobbed, the sudden snap waking me up. I frowned at Quen, who was staring at me, but honestly, it was really hard to stay awake when Trent was humming like that. It wasn’t the first time I’d heard him use music while meditating, and the last hint of sleep jolted from me at a wisp of remembered anger.

  Trent had been singing to the Goddess the night he dragged my sorry ass out of the freezing Ohio River. It was his fault that we’d landed there, barely surviving having the casino boat blown up around us. A dozen of Cincinnati’s finest had gone to the bottom. Trent had been on his way to join them when I’d pulled his head out of the water. I could have made it to shore just fine if I hadn’t been carting his elven ass with me.

  Brow furrowed, I looked across the table at him. I’d almost died that night, and it had been his fault. He had been getting me into trouble ever since.

  It was his fault I survived, too. The stray thought flitted through me, quickly forgotten as, with a blink, Trent’s aura blossomed, visible though I wasn’t using
my second sight. Gold, with a hint of smut to keep it interesting, it flowed from him like the aurora borealis, flitting over his skin, red at the source, sparkles spilling off at the flares, the heat of intensity concentrating about his hands and head.

  Curious. Squinting, I looked deeper to see purple and green and a shade of amber that shouldn’t have existed.

  And then he stopped humming and opened his eyes. I blinked. His aura was in his eyes.

  “This isn’t working.” Trent pushed himself more upright with a sour expression.

  “Sweet everlasting moss wipe of a mother pus bucket,” Jenks swore softly, and I turned to him. He was staring at me from Zack’s shoulder.

  Damn busybody pixy, I thought as I spilled the bag of salt from hand to hand. I couldn’t count how many times he had irritated the hell out of me.

  “That isn’t helping, Jenks,” Trent said, and Jenks snapped his wings and pointed at me.

  “Oh, no,” Zack whispered, and Quen’s lips parted when he followed Zack’s attention to me.

  “What?” I said, irate.

  Jenks took to the air, the sound of his wings tugging at a memory. “Rachel, wake up,” he said as he hovered before me.

  “I’m not asleep.” I dropped the bag of salt on the table before pushing back.

  Zack pressed deeper into his chair, away from me. “She’s not awake, either.”

  But I felt more awake than I’d been in a long time, and I stood, rolling my shoulders to ease their tension, and rocked from foot to foot to feel my new balance.

  “It’s her,” Jenks was whispering as I gazed out onto the pool, liking how the sun sparkled on it. I hadn’t seen the sun for what felt like forever, though I knew that was false. “It’s her, but she’s missing stuff,” the pixy added, his eyes following me as I rose to look at Trent’s books to either side of the fireplace. “It’s a her that never existed,” he said, and I snorted. “Like some things never happened to her that should have.”