by Kim Harrison
Trent’s smile became more certain as my nails found his throat. His legs shifted, imprisoning mine. “My first thought was how nice it was to be able to sleep. My second was how right it felt to wake up beside you. Ellasbeth was about fifth on the list.”
I played with his hair, wishing we didn’t have to get up. “What was between them?”
Trent pulled me close, his fingers drifting low down my back to send a tremble-worthy sensation spilling through me. “You,” he said. “Both third and fourth.”
His head tilted, and he found my lips. Desire rose from nowhere, and my mouth moved against his, my legs twining tighter.
“Maybe fifth, too,” he added as our lips parted, and I tucked my head under his chin.
“You want to try merging our circles?” I said, reluctant to move. My fingers brushed over his smooth skin, and I smiled as I pulled goose bumps into existence. It had been forever since I’d felt this complete. Maybe this was what it would be like if I never went back to my boat.
“Yes, and yes, it would,” Trent whispered, and I leaned back to look at him.
“How do you do that?” I said, a feeling of contentment rising at the love in his eyes.
“I told you before.” His voice rumbled through me. “Every thought crosses your face.”
“Mmmm. What am I thinking now?” I said as I played with his ears, and he smiled wickedly.
“Something that doesn’t involve circles.”
But Zack’s voice from the other room was getting louder, and the coming pressures of the day slowly pushed out the feeling that we could just lie here together and let everything pass. I reluctantly sat up against the headboard. “Should we scribe one, or make it free-floating?”
“Free-floating,” Trent said with a yawn. “That’s what you said they caught it in.”
I loved how he looked there among the pillows, still soft with sleep as he sat up and tucked an arm behind me to tug me closer.
My internal energy balance made a little jump as he tapped a line. But that wasn’t unexpected, seeing as most of our length was touching. I did the same . . . and then my eyes went to his at the unusual linked sensation. Frowning, Trent sat up even more.
“Curious,” he said, clearly feeling it as well. “The ley line tastes different.”
I took his hand and the feeling strengthened. “It’s darker, like moss on a moonlit night.”
He smiled and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “I was going to say it was electric and dusty, like a demon.” He turned my hand over in his and traced a pattern on my palm to make me shiver. “You want to make a circle, and I’ll overlay it?”
I nodded, breathless at the sensations tripping through me. “Sure.” There were better ways to use this knowledge, and sitting in bed making circles wasn’t one of them. But Hodin’s curse would only last for thirty-six hours. If we didn’t have the baku captured and in a bottle by then, we’d have to paint it on again. We were out of whatever had been in that hand-pinched pot.
So with more than a little reluctance, I forced my thoughts from the tingling sensation warming my core to a small space over the foot of the bed. Rhombus, I thought, using my circle word, whereas I usually only willed it to happen.
Trent jerked, his grip on my hand tightening as the circle swam into existence with an unusual hesitation. But it was thick. So thick I couldn’t see through it. “Damn,” Trent swore, a nervous smile on him as he glanced at me. “I didn’t even set one. It just happened. That’s good.”
“Is it?” I frowned at the potential problem. It wasn’t like the slave rings where the person who had the master ring supplemented his power with whoever wore the slaver. It was a direct link, as if the two were one. “What if all our magic is supplemented by each other?”
“Is that a problem?” he asked, and I took a slow breath.
“Not necessarily, but we should find out. Leno cinis,” I said with a flourish, directing my attention to the already running circle floating in the middle of the room.
Energy zipped through me, shocking and hot. It raced to the circle . . . and then it exploded into existence. A white-hot glow threw back the comforting gloom of the morning, making Trent grunt and me wince. It was like a miniature sun, and I dropped the line. Darkness flooded back, and the purple blot from where I’d burned my retinas danced like an annoying will-o’-the-wisp.
“I’d say yes, that’s a problem,” Trent muttered. “Unless you meant it to be that bright.”
“No.” I blinked, trying to get the haze to go away. “Let me try again. Leno cinis,” I said, letting only a trickle of energy invoke the curse. My shoulders eased and I leaned back into Trent as a more normal light brightened the room.
“That’s better.” Trent looked at it, clearly relieved. “What’s the ratio?”
I snuggled back against him. Soul bottle, check. Merging circles, check. Lure the baku from Landon and catch it . . . not so easy peasy. “About half?” I guessed, then jerked when the lighted circle dropped. I hadn’t done it, and after the first shock, I smiled at Trent. “That takes some getting used to,” I said as I snuggled closer, reluctant to get up.
“Don’t bother,” he said as he traced a path down my arm. “I figure we have until three a.m. tomorrow, and it will be gone.”
But then my expression blanked as a new voice twined with Zack’s, one feminine and dark, like gray smoke in fog. Ivy. “Crap on toast. I forgot to call Ivy.” Pulse fast, I sat up.
“It’s okay,” Trent said with a yawn, looking tousled and sexy in his PJ bottoms and nothing else. “I asked Jon to call her when we came up at sunset.”
“Then why is she here?” I swung my feet off the bed and stood. Where’s my robe?
“I’ve no idea,” he said as he slid from the sheets and stretched. He looked absolutely yummy as he reached for his robe and slipped it on. I watched, feeling my body react and wanting him all over again. Yesterday had been amazing, and afterward, I’d never slept better.
“You don’t think Ellasbeth kept the girls in the safe room all this time, do you?” he said as I put on my own robe, then gave him a hug from behind. My head hit the back of his shoulder, and I felt my gaze go distant.
“I’m sure Quen has them. It’s hard to sleep when Lucy is awake,” I said.
Trent turned in my grip, his head dropping as he tied my robe shut. It didn’t cover the front half of the glyph, and I was struck with how old the curse was, older than the original ever-after maybe. Though the words had been demon, it was obviously Goddess based. No wonder they want Hodin dead.
“True,” Trent said distantly, and my thoughts went back to their argument. I could see the hurt of Quen’s betrayal on him, and I wished I could make it go away. “I don’t know how you do it,” he said as his tight expression eased and he gave me a squeeze.
“What?” I said, touching my hair since his eyes were on it.
Our bodies pressed together, and he gave me a loving kiss. “Look so fantastic in the morning,” he whispered, and I smiled, wondering if the glyphs were warming or if it was just his presence. “It takes me an hour to look that good.”
“You’re sweet,” I said, appreciating the white lie. But the reality was that despite sleeping, I felt too tired to look good. He dropped back, and our fingers still twined, we went out into the main room, blinking at the sudden glare of light.
“Good morning,” Trent said, a hint of concern on him as he looked from Zack and Jenks making oatmeal in the open kitchen, to Glenn and Ivy in the sunken living room, a loaf of pull-apart bread between them on the table. “The girls aren’t still in the safe room, are they?”
“No.” Zack stirred the oatmeal, his bangs moving in the steam. “Quen took them and Ellasbeth into the conservatory so you could sleep. I’m making them breakfast,” he added proudly.
“I’ll let them know you’re up,” Jenks sa
id, then hummed straight off the balcony and down to the great room, his sparkles cheerful and bright.
“Glenn?” I said, a flash of worry running through me as my fingers slipped from Trent’s and he made a beeline to the kitchen and the brewing coffee. “Something bad happened, didn’t it.”
But Ivy was smiling as she uncoiled herself from the chair, licking the glaze from her fingers before reaching for a napkin. She was in her working black and high boots, clearly having come right from work. “Glenn quit the Order,” she said, smug as I wobbled down the two steps.
Glenn shrugged sheepishly as he turned off the TV. “Quit stealing my thunder, woman,” he said as he came forward, and smiling, I pushed past his offered hand to pull him into a hug, breathing in the odd scent of gun oil, tomato paste, and basil. Ivy was in there too, making me wonder. He looked good in his casual jeans and black shirt.
“You can’t quit the Order,” I said when I pulled back. He was built wider across the shoulders than Trent, less thin about the waist. “At least not without a lot of missing memory.”
Glenn’s smile widened. “As Weast pointed out, I’m a probational member. I know enough to keep my mouth shut, and little more.” His brow creased. “Are you okay? Quen said the baku damaged your aura when you tried to talk to it.”
Thanks, Quen, I thought sourly. “I’ll heal,” I said, embarrassed. Buddy was underfoot, the reason obvious when Zack slipped the dog a walnut. Seeing it, Trent frowned but said nothing as he poured coffee into two mugs. That oatmeal smelled great. I hadn’t eaten in hours.
“Are you sure?” Ivy said as she looked me up and down, her worry obvious.
“I’ll be fine.” My arm went around her in a half hug to feel the strength in her slight build. The cloying scent of the long undead lifted from her skin, making me wonder how she was doing in the I.S.’s lower tower. “I feel a lot better since getting some sleep. Even better, Trent and I can merge our circles for the next twenty hours or so. We just have to go and get it.”
Glenn cocked his head and smiled. “Rachel, your fine can put anyone else in the hospital. I’m sorry. I should’ve warned you about the baku, but I thought Weast was going to start sharing information. I feel bad about that.”
“It’s okay,” I said as they stood before me, so different yet the same where it counted. “Welcome back.”
“Yeah, welcome back,” Jenks said as he rose up from the great room, and I thought I heard the girls in the distance. “You do anything that dumb again, Glenn, I’ll cut off your ’nads and make a coat out of them.”
Zack choked on his laugh, and content, I sat in Ceri’s rocker. “Though letting the Order turn Landon into a zombie has a certain appeal,” I said as Ivy and Glenn returned to the couch. It would be awful, though, living an eternity without sleeping. Which made me wonder if zombies were a lot more coherent when they started out, gradually losing their cognizance along with their body cohesion.
“It’s how they got it the last time.” Glenn nodded to Trent in greeting, and I gratefully took the mug Trent was extending before he went back to the kitchen to help Zack with the oatmeal. “Weast has been tracking the baku for the last three weeks,” Glenn continued. “Once it settles into a body, he will turn him into a zombie and put him with the rest.”
Nasty. Even if it was Landon they were going for, no one deserved that. It was as illegal as all hell, but the Order had put themselves above the law, and I didn’t like it. Even the I.S. was looking the other way in the face of “the greater good.”
“Not if we put it into a bottle first,” Trent said as he adjusted the two high chairs at the table. “Much as I’d like to see Landon as a zombie, the dewar might get off our case if we save him.”
“You really think you can do that?” Glenn’s expressive face grew hopeful.
“Yep,” Jenks said from my shoulder, wings stilling. “She and Trent spent all night learning how to mesh things together. Oh, baby, oh, baby, oh, baby!”
“Damn it, Jenks, you were supposed to be keeping watch outside!” I blurted, then flushed, realizing I’d confirmed everyone’s suspicions. “Just shut up,” I muttered, pulling my robe tight and hiding behind a sip of coffee as the pixy laughed all the harder.
“A bottle?” Glenn prompted, ignoring Jenks.
Trent touched the curse peeping from his robe. “I think we have a good chance.”
Ivy was looking at me for confirmation, and I nodded. My eyes went to Zack and Trent in the kitchen, again noticing how much they looked alike. “Zack, does Landon know about the Order?” I asked him, and he jumped, startled.
“No,” he blurted. “At least, I don’t think so.”
“Then warning him and offering a way out might convince him to help us,” Trent said as he took two primary-colored bowls from a cupboard and set them on the counter. “I’m going to go help with the girls. Zack, will you ladle some oatmeal out to cool? I need to talk to Quen.”
Which was of course the real reason he wanted to go downstairs, and I grimaced.
“Sure,” Zack said, clearly uncomfortable. Ivy eyed me in the new silence, a knowing expression on her face at the almost hidden tension in Trent’s voice. Frowning, I turned to Jenks. The pixy couldn’t have kept his mouth shut if his life depended on it, and what Quen had withheld from Trent was sweet enough gossip to keep a faire of pixies alive through the winter.
Nice going, I thought, staring at him, and he dusted an embarrassed red as he sat on Zack’s shoulder and pointed out where the big spoons were.
Jaw tight, Trent strode to the stairs as the girls’ voices rose high in the great room. Somehow he managed to look fully in control despite being in a robe and barefoot. I wasn’t sure how this was going to play out. It felt as if something had broken between Quen and him.
“Daddy!” Lucy shouted, but upstairs, an uncomfortable silence had begun to grow.
“Uh, any new attacks last night?” I asked Ivy.
“I have no idea,” she grumped, and Glenn bobbed his head in sympathy, his mouth full of pull-apart bread. “The flow of information has stopped. I say baku, and everyone looks at me as if I’ve got fangs coming out of my nose,” she said, and from the kitchen, Jenks snorted.
“It’s not funny,” Ivy said, and Jenks laughed like wind chimes.
“Yes, it is. See?” he said, and I quailed as he stuck his chopsticks in his nose and pretended to be a Hollywood vampire and bite Zack’s neck.
Ivy’s eyes narrowed, and Glenn stifled a laugh. “Don’t let the girls see you do that, or you will be banned from the Kalamack compound,” I said, and Zack twisted, almost knocking Jenks off his shoulder as he tried to see.
Annoyed, Ivy crossed her knees and bobbed her foot. “I gave them your findings. The I.S. still intends to shove these people into the system and let them drown to shut them up. No one deserves to be locked up because someone practiced killing Trent with them.”
Hungry, I sipped my coffee and watched Zack fill a third, larger serving bowl with oatmeal, adding nuts by the handful and drenching it with equal portions of milk and maple syrup. If I hadn’t seen his fear at the top of Carew Tower, I’d have been concerned that this was going to land in Landon’s ears, but today . . . I had other things to worry about.
“Glenn and I are arranging a press release tonight. The six o’clock news,” Ivy said, and I jerked my eyes from Zack. Was she crazy? The I.S. wanted this buried.
“This is great!” Jenks said sarcastically as he dropped down and helped himself to the maple syrup clinging to the bottle top. “Glenn is quitting the Order. Ivy’s going to get fired. Hey, Glenn, you could go into partnership with Ivy and Nina since Ivy’s ditching Rache and me.”
“I am not ditching you,” Ivy protested as she shifted on the couch. “I’m quitting the firm.”
Glenn stiffened. “You didn’t tell me you weren’t going back to the church.”
“I thought you said you weren’t leaving until the first of the year,” I said, alarmed, and she shrugged, looking helpless. For a moment, there were just the sounds of the girls making their slow way upstairs. Clearly Lucy was happy to see her dad. “Christmas is good,” I said, though once she was out of Cincy, there was no guarantee that she’d come back.
“It’s only a few weeks,” Ivy said softly, but I could hear the unsaid issues—issues that came with having the will to say no to the undead. It only made them more eager to find the point where you broke and said yes, and Ivy was very good at saying no. It drove them crazy with bloodlust.
“Hey, uh, would it help if Trent or I went with you to explain about the auratic shells?” I offered, trying to change the subject. “Trent could use the good press.”
“It would,” Glenn said, hunched over his knees as he looked toward the sound of giggling girls. “But I don’t want either of you involved in the initial release.”
Because of the girls, I thought, guilt sliding through me. “We’re already involved. Up to our necks involved,” I said. “We could do a private town meeting if you’d rather.”
Glenn winced, and Jenks chortled rudely. The last one wasn’t that bad, I thought, but Ivy, too, was shaking her head. “I’d rather do it publicly,” she said. “Behind closed doors gives the undead too much of an advantage. How reliable is that curse that proves the suspects’ souls have been tampered with?”
“Enough to satisfy me.” I drank my coffee almost to the bottom of the cup, jerking when I felt Trent’s sudden anger through our shared curse. It spilled through me like hot honey, tightening my gut and stiffening my back. He wasn’t tapping a line, but something was sending ley line–like tingles through me. “But enough of Cincinnati thinks the demons are responsible, so that’s questionable help,” I finished, squirming as I worked to shunt the excess energy from me. Us.