American Demon

by Kim Harrison

  The dewar had bought it to bolster their Cincinnati presence from a single Hollows-based office in a strip mall to the sprawling three-story multiuse building—the twelve-thousand-square-foot chapel included. Wedding receptions were still taking place in the huge repurposed sanctuary with its Roman frescoes and elaborate chandeliers, but no more were being booked, and by this time next year, the elven religious faction would have the place to themselves.

  “If you don’t hear from one of us in an hour, get them home,” Trent said, talking to Quen presumably. “I don’t care if you have to throw her into the moat at monkey island.”

  A smile quirked my lips. Apparently Ellasbeth was focused on the girls instead of her plotting, but it wasn’t going well. From the conversation, it seemed Ray had perfected how to egg Lucy on, only to sit back and enjoy the show when she lost it.

  A sudden clatter of wings at the window pulled me forward, and I jumped to crack the window for Jenks. “Gotta go,” Trent said, ending his conversation as I cranked the car’s heater. The pixy looked oddly heavy in his cold-weather gear, but his wings pinked right up when he angled them so the hot air passed over them smoothly.

  “We’re set,” Jenks said, still clearly cold. “The side door is where Zack said it would be. Even saw someone use it with the code he gave us. I’ll take the cameras out as we go.”

  Excitement tingled to my toes. “You want to warm up first?”

  “Nah, I’m good.” Jenks took a yellow biscuit from the folds of his clothes and began gnawing on it. “Two hours later, I might have an issue, but as long as the sun is high, I’m fine.”

  Worried, I looked across the car at Trent. “In, bottle it, out in twenty?” he offered. They were my own words, but I wasn’t entirely happy. Thanks to Landon’s public schedule and Zack’s more personal knowledge of the man’s habits, we were fairly sure Landon would be in the largest of the three on-site apartments where he now lived, napping until his late-afternoon appointments.

  “When have my plans ever worked?” I whispered, then reached for the door. “Okay, I’ve got a spot for you on my shoulder, Jenks, and a heat pack in my purse if you want it.”

  “I’m fine, Rache,” he muttered, but I felt better when he settled himself on my shoulder.

  Together Trent and I got out, and I reached for the low hood, surprised when the nearest ley line poured into me, the warm sensation echoing through me from my front to my back.

  “Rache?” Jenks questioned as my hair snarled, and I looked across the low hood to Trent. He’d tapped a line, and through him, I had, too.

  “It’s Hodin’s curse,” I said as I shut the car door with a thump and came around the front to join Trent. Ill-fitting suit or not, he looked good with the sun in his hair and his green eyes eager as he scanned the busy street we had to cross. People and cars were everywhere in the background noise of movement and sound that was noon in Cincinnati. The dewar’s building stood before us on a slight rise, and anticipation quickened my feet as Trent and I headed for the crosswalk despite my misgivings. This was what I lived for, but today was different.

  Trent flashed me a smile as he rocked forward to push the button, the light breeze playing in the silken strands of his hair. His eyes were eager as two more people joined us, bringing the scent of tacos and burgers with them. Trent hadn’t been hurt enough to know the risk he was putting his girls in. But I had, and I vowed that he would walk away from this untouched.

  His smile faltered as he saw my grim look. “What is it?” he said, his hand going to the small of my back as the light changed and we stepped from the curb. “Do we need to walk away?”

  “No,” I said firmly. “We’re good. Jenks, any cameras?” I prompted, and Jenks rose up into the frost-emptied trees ringing the dewar’s parking lot, their branches denuded by the cold.

  Trent pulled me to a heel-clattering stop at the curb, and everyone pushed past us, intent on reaching their offices. We lingered in the dappled shade as we waited for Jenks, playing the part of two workers reluctant to part ways.

  The monstrous building sprawled before us. The dewar had been filling it with people the last few months as they made Cincinnati their American headquarters. There’d never been a gathering of the religious order of the elves of this size in recorded history. Maybe it was because the elves had just come out of the paranormal closet, but maybe it was me, a demon wiggling into their oldest, most powerful family, that was bringing them together.

  Guilt for having robbed Trent of his voice rose up, and I fidgeted. We were sneaking in when, by rights, he should have been able to demand an audience with the head of the dewar whenever he damn well felt like it. The look on his face when he’d broken a hole in the back of the fireplace said it all. He’d opened it for Ellasbeth. He needed a closer tie to the dewar and enclave. I was feeling more and more as if I didn’t belong. Or that I shouldn’t.

  “What do you think about me not coming over on the weekends anymore?” I said, and Trent turned, the smile on his face faltering.

  “Where is this coming from?” Worry pulled him straight.

  The cold November wind coming up from the nearby river pushed against me, and I tucked a strand of hair behind an ear. “If you pretended to soften toward Ellasbeth—”

  “No.” It was a harsh utterance, and Trent put his attention back on the parking lot.

  “I thought elves were all about misdirection and subterfuge,” I said.

  “Not this time,” he said coldly as he scanned for Jenks.

  “The enclave would take you back,” I insisted, and Trent’s brow furrowed. “My God, Trent, we’re sneaking in. Last year, you could have made a phone call and had lunch with him.”

  “I won’t pretend to like Ellasbeth to gain political sway, power that is already mine,” he asserted. “She’d not only see through it—she’d use it against me. Wiggle herself closer.”

  “Maybe that’s not such a bad thing,” I said softly, thinking of the girls.

  Again Trent turned, his brow furrowed. “Are you trying to break up with me?”

  “No!” I exclaimed, eyes wide as I noticed his hair beginning to float and mine snarling up. I wasn’t touching him, but I could feel him pulling heavier on the ley line. “Trent . . . ,” I started, changing my mind when Jenks dropped out of the tree like an acorn.

  “Route is clear,” he said as he hit my shoulder.

  Trent touched the small of my back, and a lump filled my throat at the familiar feel of our internal energy balances equalizing. I loved him, but I was bringing him down. My head bowed, and misunderstanding, Trent let his hand fall away. It only made me feel that much more miserable, and silent, we crossed the lot filled with newly purchased and rented vehicles. Zack had said that Landon’s private apartment was on the other side of the building, third floor overlooking a distant Eden Park, but the easiest way to gain access was from this side.

  My low heels clicked a sharp counterpoint against Trent’s steps. I hadn’t realized until now how often Trent touched me, and the thought of walking away, of making the smart, hard decision, sucked.

  Finally we reached the side door and Trent punched in the code. His motions were sharp, and he shot me a questioning look, not knowing where my thoughts were other than I’d laid down two confusing, contrary statements. The door unlocked with a click, and Trent held it for me, scanning the lot to see if anyone was watching as I went in.

  “I’m sorry, Trent,” I said as I took in the stark, typical hallway with its carpet squares and blah art on the walls between lightweight fake-wood doors. “I’m just worried that this is going to backfire, and then what happens to the girls?”

  Understanding cascaded over Trent. Turning, he put one hand on my shoulder, looking up and down the hallway before leaning in. “I’d rather have the girls raised by Ellasbeth and them see me in prison for having done what was right than raise them seeing
me hide from what I know should be done. They will be leaders, Rachel. They must know from the start that that means equal parts strength and vulnerability.”

  I blinked fast, my love for him making my chest hurt.

  “Now,” he said as Jenks dropped down before us, “are we ready to do this? I need to concentrate, and worrying about you leaving me will make me slow.”

  “I’m not leaving you,” I said, though it would be hard with Ellasbeth in the picture.

  “Tink save me from lunkers in love,” Jenks muttered, but his dust was a happy gold.

  “Cameras?” I prompted, and Jenks darted away.

  Trent exhaled in relief before pulling himself to a CEO’s stiffness as we followed Jenks down the hall. I smiled, pulling on the line until his hair began to float. His hand flashed up to press it flat, and I gave him a grin and a shrug. Hodin’s curse was a double-edged sword.

  The deeper we went into the building, the more the air smelled like cinnamon and wine, sparking of magic at the edges of my mind. Chatter came from the offices we passed, and slowly the sound of keyboards and phones soothed me. My first impressions of the building began to shift as I began sensing stone walls behind the wallboard and oak floors under the carpet squares. I squinted at the ceiling, wondering if I could smell incense embedded in the thick, cracked paint. In my thoughts, the drone of prayers being offered up tickled the folds of my mind.

  “Attic?” Trent said as we found an elevator alcove.

  “Attic,” I agreed, hitting the call button and hoping that the plans that Ivy had e-mailed me were correct and that the elevator went all the way. The stairs didn’t, having been boarded up ages ago.

  In a flash of sparkles, Jenks arrowed back, wings clattering a harsh warning. “Hide,” he said shortly, and Trent spun to look up and down the hall. Someone was coming. The elevator still wasn’t here, and Trent pointed to the stairs.

  Pulse fast, I yanked the stairwell door open. “It’s just one flight,” someone complained as I darted in, sliding to the side as Trent surged in after me. Jenks shot up the stairwell, his dust drifting down in a slow cascade as Trent pulled the door shut but for a crack. “And the elevator takes forever,” the man added, his voice louder now that they were right in the hall before us.

  I hunched closer, tucking under Trent so I could see. My painted glyph seemed to warm at our closeness, and I held my breath and energy balance both. Two thirtysomethings in office wear stood before the elevators. “Easy for you to say,” the woman said as she pushed the lit call button and rocked back. “You’re not in heels.”

  But the man was angling to the stairwell, coffee in one hand, phone in the other. “I’m taking the stairs. I’ll save you a seat,” he promised, and the woman sighed.

  “Fine,” she said as she gave the closed silver doors a last look and followed him.

  “They’re coming in here,” I muttered. Dropping back, I found my splat gun. Trent shifted to the other side of the door, and Jenks dropped down, gold dust sifting as he hovered right before the stairs. Splat gun pointed, I exhaled, adrenaline bringing me gloriously awake as I grinned at Trent and the glowing mass of magic in his hand as the stairwell’s fire door swung open. The elves came in, jerking to a halt when they saw Jenks.

  “Hi!” Jenks said as I took aim. “You’re both up on your insurance, right?”

  “Wha-a-at?” the man said, and then the woman gasped as she saw me.

  “Sorry,” I said, meaning it, and then she shrieked as I pulled the trigger and the puff of air shot through me.

  “Voulden,” Trent whispered, and the mass of magic in his hand shifted, taking on his intent even as he threw it at the man.

  “Too much!” I exclaimed as I felt his magic manifest as if it were my own. It was elven. I’d never seen it before, but through Hodin’s curse, it was as if I had been casting it my entire life. Trent was using way too much energy. It was going to burn the man’s synapses, not stun him.

  Breath held, I tried to pull some of it back, but it slipped through my mental fingers like sand and I only managed a fraction of the excess. Trent’s gold-and-red-smeared spell hit the man in the chest and exploded in a blinding flash as the two dropped, crashing into each other as they went down. The man practically glowed under Trent’s overdone magic, and I thought I smelled burning hair as he lurched to catch them.

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa, Tex!” Jenks said, his dust spilling brightly. “I think you got ’em!”

  Trent straightened from easing them to the floor, his eyes wide as he looked at his hand before shaking the last of the glowing trails out. “I see what you mean about doubling the effect of your magic,” he muttered, giving me a scared look. “It feels like more than that to me, though. I was only trying to knock him unconscious, not put him in a coma. Thanks for pulling some of it back.”

  “He’s in a coma?” Worried, I pushed myself up from the wall to look at him as Trent checked his pulse. Crap on toast, Hodin hadn’t been kidding. Mix this with sex, and you might never walk again, but right now it was a huge pain in the ass. The coming assault-and-battery charges were going to keep me on Kisten’s boat for the next three years.

  Jenks landed on the man’s nose. “He’s not in a coma,” he said derisively. “But the headache he’s going to have when he wakes up is going to make him wish he were. If you’re lucky, he won’t remember why.” Jenks rose up, hands on his hips as he faced Trent. “You got a problem with your control, cookie man?”

  “Apparently.” Looking unsure, Trent stood back up. “You okay?” he said, and I nodded, unwrapping my arms from around myself. “Where should we put them?”

  Head tilted, Jenks looked up the stairwell. “Not here. The elevator is slow. Most people use the stairs.”

  From the hall, a cheerful ding told me the elevator had finally arrived. “Then let’s put them in the elevator and stop it between floors,” I said.

  Jenks darted out the crack in the door, immediately returning to gesture us out. I grabbed the woman under her arms and began dragging her. The man’s coffee had landed on her, and she was a mess. Trent hauled the man to the door and held it open with one foot while I pulled the woman into the empty hallway, her heels making twin tracks in the carpet.

  “Move it!” Jenks exclaimed, punching the call button with his feet when the silver doors threatened to close. I lugged the woman inside and propped her against the wall. “Shoe,” Jenks pointed out, and I lurched out to get it, jerking back in as the doors shut.

  “This isn’t how I envisioned this playing out,” Trent said as he propped the man up beside the woman against the wall of the lift and took their building IDs. Worried, he put the man’s badge on. He didn’t look too far away from Dan, but I was not going to pass for Wendy under even the lightest scrutiny.

  Jenks snickered and foot-planted the third-floor button. “Welcome to my world.”

  “Can we just get to the attic, please?” I said as I put on Wendy’s badge, then hit the button to stop the elevator between floors. An alarm began to sound, and Trent grimaced.

  “Elerodic,” he muttered, his suddenly glowing hand turning a bright silver.

  “No, wait!” Jenks shrilled, and I cowered when Trent’s energy hit the panel with a burst of sparks.

  “Damn,” Trent whispered, shaking the sting from him as I rose from my crouch. “I tried to adjust it that time.”

  “Will you knock it off!” the pixy shouted, but the alarm had stopped, and the elevator was unmoving. “Enough with the magic! Use your other skills! You got enough of them!”

  “Sorry,” Trent said as he looked at his reddened hand, and I eased my grip on the ley line. Immediately the warm sensation in my middle vanished, and I gave Trent’s hand a squeeze.

  “And don’t forget their phones,” Jenks muttered. “Sleeping Beauty there will call someone as soon as he wakes up. Taking it might give us five more minu
tes.”

  Nodding, Trent began to search them in earnest, seeming incongruous as he crouched over them to flip jackets and explore pockets. Jenks frowned at him, then darted to me. “You okay?”

  I touched my glyph through my shirt and shrugged. “Fine, but you’re right. The less magic we do until this curse wears off, the better.” I looked up. “Does that open?” I asked, pointing at the ceiling door, and Trent stood, handing me their phones to tuck away in my bag.

  Eyes eager, Trent braced himself in the corner and cupped his hands. Jenks had already busted the lock, and at his nod, I stepped into Trent’s grip. “Watch your balance,” he said softly, voice strained, and with one hand on the wall, I palm-struck the roof panel. It snapped up with a pop, and I reached for it, struggling to keep it from banging open all the way.

  Cool, dusty air spilled down and Jenks darted past me into the unheated elevator shaft. “Higher,” I whispered, hearing the muffled complaints from the nearby closed second-floor doors. Finally I was able to scramble up. Immediately I lay down and extended my hands to Trent. It would’ve been easier to ride the elevator up, but it would have stopped on the second floor, and then there would have been shouting, and screaming, and pixy dust. . . .

  The cold made my grip slippery, and my gut tightened as Trent took my hands. We both knew I wouldn’t be able to lift him, and I held my breath as he used the wall of the elevator to push himself up until he could lever first one foot, then the other through the opening and finally wedge himself up and in.

  “Thanks,” he whispered as he found his feet, and I gave him a wan smile, rolling to a stand to try to beat the greasy dust off me. If we could gain the attic, we could walk above the offices and right to Landon’s apartments. There was an elevator bank on the other side of the building, and according to Ivy’s building plans, it ran from first floor to the attic as well.

  “This should buy us some time.” Trent gently closed the trapdoor. Hands on his waist, he squinted up the dark shaft. Now that Jenks wasn’t moving, the only light was a thin ribbon from the closed elevator doors above us. “Tell me there’s a door there, Jenks.”