American Demon

by Kim Harrison

  Lucy’s shout that she wanted the green one—whatever the green one was—came loudly, and Trent came up the stairs alone, his hair in disarray and his pace fast as he went to the kitchen. “Ellasbeth gave in to Lucy’s every whim,” he said, and I watched with wide eyes. “She’s being understandably difficult. It’s going to take three days to deprogram her.” Mood bad, he took the bowls Zack had left to cool and set them on the table. “This is perfect. Thank you, Zack.”

  But Zack wasn’t listening, his expression empty as he watched Quen and Ray come up the stairway. The little girl was holding his hand tightly, her face scrubbed and her hair tucked behind her pointed ears. A blanket with horses on it was in her grip, and she looked precious in a yellow sundress and matching tights. The air was tense between Quen and Trent, and it was clear words had been said, as they weren’t looking at each other.

  “That’s so sweet it will give you diabetes, Rache,” Jenks said as he hovered at my ear. But I didn’t think that was why Zack had turned away, envy pinching his brow. Being raised by the dewar had probably robbed him of his parents.

  And then Ellasbeth minced up the stairs with Lucy on her hip, ruining the moment.

  “Look, Lucy,” the woman said with forced cheerfulness as she wrangled Lucy into her chair. “Zack made you breakfast. Be a good girl and eat it up.”

  I thought it was a bad idea to equate being good with eating, but I couldn’t help but feel a little smug. Ellasbeth was clearly tired, and her blond hair looked harsh next to Trent’s and Zack’s transparent whiteness. It was hard to tweak the elven genetic code to get that traditional elven wispiness. Trent’s dad had insisted on it while his West Coast counterpart had not, and it showed.

  “No!” Lucy protested, pushing at Ellasbeth as she tried to put a bib on her.

  “She might be more hungry if you hadn’t given her marshmallows all day,” Trent muttered, and Ellasbeth flushed.

  “Ray!” Lucy demanded even as she fought Ellasbeth. “Time to eat. Ray!” Expression somber, Ray let go of Quen’s hand to quietly toddle across the floor, needing to sit to scoot down the stairs before walking over to me. “Ray!” Lucy shrilled again, and Buddy, waiting for fallout under the table, slunk downstairs. Quen crouched to put his eyes even with Lucy’s, silent as she pressed her lips defiantly, face red as she balanced her demands with Quen’s obvious disapproval.

  “Up,” Ray said to me, her arms reaching, and I just about melted, not caring that Ellasbeth’s glare had become toxic.

  “You heard her, Rache,” Jenks prompted, and I set my coffee aside to take the soft, tiny person onto my lap. She smelled like snickerdoodles, and my need to see no harm come to them was so strong, it hurt. Ray wanted security, and she came to me to find it.

  Her gaze was on the curse written on my skin, obvious when she was this close. “Daddy,” she said in her pure, high voice as she pointed at it, and I nodded, cuddling her closer.

  “Yes, he has one, too. It’s to help us trap the monster,” I whispered, and she carefully touched the glyph. Ivy was watching, her heartache that she’d never dare to have a child and commit him or her to the living-vampire hell she lived in almost looking like hunger. It hurt, seeing it in her eyes, but I couldn’t help her, and I swallowed hard.

  “Daddy . . . ,” Ray said, in complaint this time when Trent came to get her, and when she clung to me, I put an arm around her, grinning as I shook my head.

  Smiling, Trent sat in the chair beside mine instead, appreciating the idea that Ray would rather listen in than eat. “I’m not sure how showing a damaged auratic spread on national TV will convince people who don’t want to listen,” he said to continue our conversation, wincing when Lucy shouted, “Zack has syrup. I want syrup!”

  “The I.S. can’t hold these people if there’s proof they weren’t responsible,” I said.

  Jenks hummed his wings for attention. “Which doesn’t get rid of the baku,” he said as he licked the syrup from his chopsticks. “I still say me, Trent, you, and that soul bottle go pay Landon a visit. Nice and quiet like in the dewar. Then pull that snapped-wing fairy sparkle out of that lame moss wipe of a troll turd pretending to be an elf and put it in a bottle.”

  “I want syrup!” Lucy demanded, undeterred by Quen’s quiet admonishment.

  A quiver rose through me as I reached out and Trent lightly twined his fingers with mine. Neither of us was tapping a line, but I could feel one nevertheless. “That’s the plan, Jenks.”

  “I might be able to wrangle another meeting,” Trent whispered, thoughts preoccupied. “We should go talk to Landon. Warn him what the Order is trying to do.”

  “What?” Jenks exclaimed, and then he inked a bright silver. “Oh! Warn him,” he said knowingly. “Gotcha.”

  “Today,” Trent added, frowning at Ellasbeth as she dribbled syrup on Lucy’s oatmeal. “We can’t afford to wait much longer. Landon already knows what the baku is trying to do and he thinks he can outsmart it. Right, Zack?”

  Zack gave us all a thumbs-up from the table, his spoon never slowing.

  “Agreed.” I jiggled Ray, my fingers playing with hers. “But I doubt very much that Landon will meet with us again. We’re going to have to break into his apartment or storm his office.”

  Nodding, Ivy eased back into the cushions as Glenn mowed down the pull-apart bread as fast as Zack shoveled his oatmeal in.

  “It’s nothing I’ve not done before,” I said, but it felt risky with Ray on my lap. “Even if we fail and the Order turns Landon into a zombie, there will at least be a record of us trying to stop them. That goodwill gesture alone might get the dewar to ease up on me. Us,” I amended when Trent cleared his throat. “Right?” I looked at Zack, worried, and he shrugged, not knowing.

  Trent sipped his coffee, clearly thinking it over. “You do have an knack for turning adversaries into allies,” he said, and I grimaced when he looked at Ellasbeth at the table. As if.

  “Sure.” Jenks went to snitch some icing. “Like Al, and Lee, and the coven, and you. All Rachel’s newest besties.”

  “Or Piscary,” Glenn said sourly as Ivy waved Jenks’s dust off the pull-apart bread. “That turned out really well.” And from the kitchen, Quen stifled a cough.

  “That might work if Landon had a moral compass,” Trent said. “Unlike Al, Lee, the witches’ coven, and myself, he doesn’t.”

  Jenks snorted as he rose up with a wad of icing. “Don’t flatter yourself, Trent. You didn’t have a moral compass until Rachel pulled it out of your ass and spun you north.”

  “Jenks!” I hissed, but Ray was focused on practicing that communication glyph with her fingers and hopefully hadn’t heard.

  “Well, he didn’t,” the pixy protested, now a bright red.

  “We’ve got until about three tonight,” I said to bring the conversation back. “Trent and I go in, do the curse, catch the baku, and get out.” But as I worked Ray’s fingers into the complicated glyph and earned a little-girl smile, I was less inclined to lean on luck, and my stomach knotted.

  “We all go in,” Jenks said as he landed on Trent’s shoulder, and Trent nodded, his brow pinched in worry. Quen cleared his throat again, but it was to keep Ellasbeth quiet, and the woman’s face reddened.

  “I didn’t want to speak for you, Jenks,” I said softly, my gut tightening even more. “It’s going to be cold until we get inside. Especially if we have to wait until dark.”

  “Then we go in the afternoon,” Jenks said, but I was worried. This would have been easier without someone on my lap practicing calling glyphs.

  “I know the access code to the dewar and his apartment there,” Zack offered. “Unless he changed it,” the kid muttered as he scraped the last from his bowl.

  “There.” Jenks rose up, wings a bright silver in motion. “We got our way in.”

  But I wasn’t ready to risk my life on Zack’s code, and by Quen�
��s frown, neither was he.

  “Okay.” The word slipped from Ivy in a soft breath as she stood in one smooth motion. “I think we have enough to work with,” she said as she checked her phone for the time. “Glenn, your dad should be at his desk by now. I’d rather do a press release at the FIB if he’ll agree to it.”

  Glenn stood as well, dark hand scrubbing faint stubble. “If anyone asks, you never saw me this morning. I don’t know anything about your plans.”

  I got up and shifted Ray to my hip. “Trent, Jenks, and I will take the morning to plan a way in. Zack, can you give us a sketch of Cincy’s dewar’s offices?”

  “The entire building?” the kid said, voice cracking.

  Ivy crossed the room toward me, her mood placid. “They took over the Monastery on the Hill,” she said, and Zack bobbed his head, eyes wide. “They haven’t been in it long enough to do many changes. I’ll text you the latest layout from the city planner.” Her eyes on Ray, she leaned in for a quick sideways hug that included the little girl. “Be careful.”

  “Aren’t we always?” Jenks said, his sparkles getting mixed up in it.

  “Bye, Ivy,” Ray said, her high voice pure and clean.

  “Bye, my little snickerdoodle,” Ivy said with a smile, and then she turned to me, her smile fading. “Are you sure you’re up for this? You look . . .” Her words trailed off and she shrugged. “You don’t look as if you slept at all,” she added, her eyes lingering on the curse.

  “I did,” I said as I jiggled Ray on my hip. “Latest thing in demon body art. There’s a back to it, too. You like?” I said, trying to make light of it.

  “Trent does.” Jenks hovered between us as Trent and Glenn said their good-byes. “He likes it a lot,” he added, hips gyrating. “Oh, yeah! Color my daisies, big boy!”

  “Jenks, grow up,” Ivy said, waving him away. “Keep Rachel out of trouble, okay? Landon is desperate, and that makes him unpredictable and chancy.”

  Chancy. That was the word, and I looked past Trent to Quen and Ellasbeth still at the table with Zack and Lucy. Zack seemed eager enough, but I was betting that Quen wouldn’t let him out of the compound until this was over. Damn it, I had no right to let Trent become more involved than he already was. Lucy and Ray were too precious to risk. Ellasbeth, staring at me with her arms over her middle, knew it, too. But what choice did we have?

  “Bye, Ray,” Ivy said again, beaming when she tried to make a kiss-kiss figure with her two fingers, getting her pinkie mixed up in there. “Bye, Lucy,” she added when Lucy called her own good-bye.

  Quen set his palms on the table and stood, becoming almost a different person as he took on his familiar security duty. “Zack, will you come with me as I escort Glenn and Ivy to the front gate? I want to hear about that pass code.”

  Zack froze, and then his chair scraped as he stood. “You bet.” Smile thin, he fell into line behind Ivy and Glenn, starting when Quen put his arm over his shoulder and began talking softly.

  “Glad I’m not Zack,” Jenks said, circling me once before following them down.

  Slowly their voices grew fainter, the soft sounds of Ellasbeth with Lucy at the table gaining precedence. I took a breath to gather my thoughts. Empty soul bottle from the vault, sleepy-time potions and splat gun from my bag. I was pretty sure I had enough leather here for breaking in. Maybe Trent had another jump spell. If we had to wait until dark, Bis could take Jenks’s place, though it would just about kill the pixy to be left out.

  Ray was still on my hip, and I turned to the table. Lucy was done, struggling to fend off Ellasbeth as she cleaned syrup from her hair. “Ray, did you have fun with your mom?”

  Ray nodded, her eyes on her sister. “Lucy got red. Bad marshmallow! Bad!”

  My eyes flicked to Ellasbeth as Ray pretended to cough, and the woman flushed, retreating to the kitchen to wash out the rag.

  “Yes, well, that tends to happen when you try to eat them all at once,” Trent said as he took Ray from me and expertly wrangled her into her high chair. Her bib was right there, and I tied it on without thought before sliding her bowl before her.

  Trent leaned closer, smiling. “Anyone ever tell you that you could be a great mom?”

  “My mother,” I said, but then my smile froze. A child was the one thing I couldn’t give Trent, the one thing that elves valued above all. But Ellasbeth could. As many as Trent might want and the enclave might demand from their Sa’han.

  And the worst thing? She knew it.

  “Trent.” Ellasbeth had wrung out the rag and was coming back with a handful of Cheerios to occupy Lucy until Ray was done. “We need to talk.”

  I went still, wrapping my arms around myself as I suddenly felt out of place. It was just the three of us. Five if you counted the girls.

  Jaw tight, Trent looked up. “I’m going with Jenks and Rachel. Thank you for watching the girls while I caught up on my sleep. Quen will drive you home if your car isn’t here.”

  Ellasbeth’s lips parted, a delicate flush to her cheeks as she took in his dismissal. “Perhaps I should stay until this is over,” she said, pointedly sitting down at the table. “I don’t mind setting up a cot in the girls’ room.”

  Embarrassed, I slunk into the kitchen to get another cup of coffee. Actually, I was surprised she wasn’t trying to stop him, but if Trent were dead, she’d have a better shot at Lucy, the legal paperwork that gave custody to Al aside.

  “I appreciate your concern,” Trent said doggedly, focused on the girls. “But we have breathing space, and Quen and I are perfectly capable of maintaining their safety.”

  Ellasbeth was looking at the sliver of glyph showing, and I pulled my robe tighter about my neck. “Putting the girls in the safe room is not maintaining a safe environment,” she said pleasantly, but the girls had felt the tension and were silently watching. “I’m not leaving until this is done.”

  Trent’s eye twitched as he stood, and his anger flickered through me via our shared curse. It was shortly followed by fear and worry. Now that she was here, she’d have to be carried out. “Your part is over,” Trent said calmly, but Ray looked scared and Lucy was at a loss. “I appreciate you watching them, Ellasbeth. Girls, say bye to your mother. You will see her next weekend.”

  But Lucy and Ray did nothing, quietly panicking.

  Ellasbeth didn’t rise, her foot bobbing under the table. She clearly didn’t want me hearing this, but I wasn’t leaving, and I clenched my hands, willing the sparkles to fade. “Trenton, your life choices are putting Lucy and Ray in danger. Go save the world. I just want to save the girls.”

  “The girls are not in danger.” Neck red, Trent put a fist on the table and leaned over it.

  “Um,” I blurted, wanting the rising energy to cease. “I have an idea. You don’t have any classes until after Thanksgiving, right?” I said, not liking that my voice sounded high in my head. “Why don’t you, Zack, and Quen blow off the girls’ regular schedule and take them to the zoo? Trent and I can take care of what we need to do and meet you there for lunch or dinner, depending on what you call it.”

  For three heartbeats, Trent stared at me, his thoughts unknown. And then he shifted, shoulders easing as he took a slow breath. “What a marvelous idea,” he said as he found his phone, but the lingering sparkles said he was still angry. Ellasbeth wasn’t much better, but at least they weren’t quietly yelling at each other. The girls, too, looked relieved, the normally vocal Lucy utterly silent. I hid behind a sip of coffee, knowing I hadn’t made any points with Ellasbeth. She would follow them to the zoo, fully aware that she wouldn’t be allowed back into the compound. And with Quen with her, Ellasbeth wouldn’t dare try to leave until Trent joined them.

  Trent signaled “Thank you” to me with a small finger twitch as he finished his text to Quen and closed his phone.

  “You’re welcome,” I mouthed back, the expanse of the kitchen b
etween us, and from beside Trent, Ray sighed and began to eat.

  False smile in place, Trent looked up. “Okay, Ellasbeth?”

  “Fine,” she said shortly.

  But it didn’t feel fine, and I excused myself to find something more conducive to spell prep than a robe. Manipulating Ellasbeth felt risky, more risky than breaking into Landon’s office so we could tie him up and perform a curse to extract a murdering energy source bent on making me kill Trent.

  CHAPTER

  30

  The sun was bright. I pushed deep into the car’s seat to get out of it, and the soft sounds of Trent on his phone seemed to become louder. We were parked at a sub shop across from the dewar’s new Cincinnati offices, waiting for Jenks to come back from his recon. Two cups of straight black were cooling in the cup holders. It was warm in Trent’s gray sports car, but the outside temp was too close to Jenks’s lower limits for my liking. November, I thought sourly. Jenks should be at the church manning the phones and keeping my spelling herbs drying evenly, not out on a run.

  Worried, I ran my hands down my black slacks and fisted them at the knees. My matching jacket was cut long and my blouse was a stark white. The low heels, flashy jewelry, and small purse holding the soul bottle and my splat gun made me into any office worker, especially with my hair pulled back and minimal makeup. Trent was in a suit. I’d told him to put on one that hadn’t been tailored yet, and the bad fit brought him down a peg from his usual CEO sharpness. He still looked good, though, albeit a tad uncomfortable at the poor tailoring—alert, graceful, and in control. You could add yummy to the list and not be wrong, I thought as I sipped my coffee.

  The Monastery, where the dewar was now headquartered, looked busy with cars and foot traffic. The Cincinnati observatory had sat there in the early 1800s, but had long since moved due to light pollution. For a time, the denuded hill had hosted grapes to help make Cincinnati the American capital of wine making. Now the hill was covered in trees and parking lots, sandwiched between I-71 and 50.