The Outlaw Demon Wails (The Hollows 6) - Page 67

Chapter Thirty

Glenn's black car wasn't my style, but it was nice in an FIB sort of way. The back was full of file boxes, which made it hard to recline my seat enough to close my eyes and take a nap as he drove me home. The clutter was unusual. Glenn usually kept his car as tidy and together as himself, rigorously fastidious.

I was so tired, but sleep was impossible. Tom had gotten away, and now he had a vested interest in seeing me dead. My look-alike was safe in custody and would be headed home as soon as the med guys checked her out. She told me she was going to take some martial arts classes so Tom couldn't hurt her again, and that, combined with Sampson sitting on her lap in the back of a cop car, assured me she'd be okay.

My fingertips were sore from the burn I'd gotten by trying to take Tom's compromised circle, as was my palm from scraping it in the ever-after. I winced when I toggled the switch to crack the window, but the pain was worth hearing the sounds of the kids playing hide-and-seek in the dark, the squeals and shouts of protest coming in unseen soothing me. My eyes shut, and I tried to follow the car's path by its motion. When it got out that an I.S. operative had been summoning demons and letting him go to trash charm shops and terrorize citizens, the I.S. would have to publicly disapprove of Tom, dissolving his contract and moving his name from payroll to most-wanted. Privately, he would likely get a nasty slap and a boot out the door as they tried to disguise his public failure to tag me. I wasn't on their active list, but I knew they wouldn't mind seeing me on a granite table. But at least I wouldn't have to pay for the damages to the charm shop anymore.

The whine of Glenn's window cracked my eyelid, and the increased wind made my almost-dry hair flutter against my cheek. My red curls stank, the scent of burnt amber obvious in the tight confines of the car. No wonder Newt was bald.

Glenn cleared his throat, sounding decidedly peeved, and I shut my eyes. I knew he wasn't happy with me, thinking I'd taken on the entire coven without letting even my roommates know. "This wasn't my idea," I said, bracing my knee against the door when we took a turn. "I didn't mean to do this. It just happened."

Glenn cleared his throat again, this time in disbelief, and I opened my eyes and sat up. The passing streetlights lit his face to make him look older than he was. Tired. "Backup would have increased your chances of getting that wacko," he said tightly, accusingly. "Now he'll be twice as hard to find."

Guilt warred with fear, and my teeth clenched. I couldn't tell him I had been summoned into Tom's basement from the ever-after and I thought I was a demon. My elbow went to rest against the door, and I cupped my chin in my hand. "It was an accident," I muttered. "I was working on something with Trent - "

"Kalamack?" The FIB detective glanced from the road to me and back again, his dark hands gripping the wheel tighter. "Rachel, stay away from him. He holds a nasty grudge and has a lot of money."

Crap, I miss my dad. My breath came and went. Maybe I could give Glenn some of the truth. "I was helping Trent with an ongoing project - "

"The same thing that killed your fathers?" he asked, and I shrugged.

"Sort of. I was in the ever-after, and I got pulled into a demon's summons by mistake. I showed up in Al's circle, and when I got out, I let them have it." Breathe in, one two three. Breathe out, one two three four. "Trent is still stuck there."

"In the ever-after? Damn it, Rachel," Glenn whispered, and I stared, drawn by the unusual curse coming from him. "Does anyone else know he went there voluntarily?"

Glenn's worried expression came at me in flashes of streetlight, and my eyebrows rose. I'd never dreamed this might look like me getting rid of Trent. Though the press labored under the assumption that we were secret lovers, everyone in a uniform knew we hated each other. That I continued to take his money was just weird. "His bodyguard," I said, not knowing how Quen was going to react. "Ivy and Jenks. My neighbors - the ones that don't exist?" I finished dryly.

Glenn's grip shifted, and I knew he wanted to reach for the radio and call something in.

"It was an accident," I finished, putting my knees together as I said it again. "What was I supposed to do? Let them bleed that woman to death?"

"There are always options...," he cajoled as we turned down my street.

"Tom admitted he called Al with the intent of letting him go to kill me. Said he would get a raise. The girl heard him. Ask her." I dropped my chin back into my hand and stared at the passing night. Fear gripped my heart at a recurring thought. I had been summoned out of the ever-after like a demon. Would I be drawn back into it when the sun rose?

A huge ache filled me. I just wanted to go home, surround myself with the people I loved, and hide, reassuring my subconscious that I was alive and home, even if I might be dragged back to that hell of an existence in a few hours. That Trent was still there, trapped in a tiny black cell waiting for a horrible, degrading future, didn't help.

I didn't like Trent. Nothing could excuse his murdering, drug-lord past, and I'd seen nothing that convinced me he would change that part of himself. But it bothered me; all the good and bad he had done shouldn't end so uselessly. I was shocked to realize that I cared what happened to him. He was responsible for a lot of good, even if it was for selfish reasons.

Staring out the window as we passed Keasley's dark house, I rubbed my arm, almost able to feel Trent's grip there, his last chance to touch someone lingering on me still. He hadn't asked me to save him. He hadn't asked me to stay and fight. There'd been no anger or frustration that I was going to be free, pulled to where he couldn't follow and leaving him to suffer both our punishments.

In the moment when everything had fallen from him, he'd asked me to make sure his people survived. His words had been free of the guilt I now felt. He only sought the reassurance that his people would live, that his life would amount to more than running drugs and murder.

Well, there was no way I was going to make sure the elves survived. He could do his own dirty work. I'd simply have to rescue him so he could do it himself. Crap on toast, I really needed to talk to Ceri.

My church was ahead, all lit up, with light streaming out of every window to run across the black grass. Even before we got close, I saw a pair of red eyes blink at me from the topmost nook and a wing shift in salute. Bis knew I was back, and I sent a silent thank-you to his kin who had kept me safe in the basilica last night. They hadn't known me or my plight, but they'd saved me, and I owed the gracious, noble beings my life. I'd pay Bis's rent myself just to keep him around.

The familiar taillights of my car were in the carport; someone had driven it home for me. Quen, maybe? Four streaks of greenish light swirled around the steeple and dropped down to Bis, and when one veered off to dart toward us, I pulled myself together and lowered the window completely. It had to be Jenks. Please, let it be Jenks.

My eyes warmed with unshed tears as his familiar wing-clatter battered against my ears and Jenks darted into the car.

"Rachel!" he gasped, looking good in his black thief outfit. "Tink's contractual hell, you did it! You're here! God almighty, you stink. I wish you were smaller; I'd slap you so hard you'd land in next week! I could have killed Trent when he shoved me back with that sample."

I shook my head in confusion. "He didn't shove you back. He said you took the curse and left us."

The pitch of his wings hesitated, and he dropped to my fingers. "How, by my bloody daisies, would I do that? I didn't do anything. I felt like my insides were being pulled through a snail's back door, and I showed up in the basilica to scare the holy crap out of some poor woman." He glanced at Glenn, the sparkles shifting from him turning to red. "Uh, hi, Glenn."

My throat was tight, and my hand shook as he stood on it. I wished I was smaller, too. Trent's reaction to Jenks's absence had been too genuine to be fake, and why bother lying? Maybe pixies were like demons, in that they couldn't stay on the wrong side of the lines when the sun rose? "Did Quen get the sample?" I asked, thinking of Trent's request. "Is it safe?"

The pixy was beaming. "Yeah, I gave it to Quen." A burst of light exploded from him, and Glenn winced. "When you didn't show, Quen took the sample to Trent's. He tried to take Ceri with him, but she said you'd need her when you got back. Holy crap, I have to send one of my kids to tell her you're here. I knew you could figure out how to jump the lines. Did you show up at the basilica, too? How come you called Glenn and not us? We would have picked you up."

He rose from my hand when it started shaking violently. Neither man commented on it, but Jenks's excitement cut off with a worried expression. He thought I'd learned how to jump the lines. He didn't know I had been pulled back by riding Algaliarept's summons. "You're not listening to the FIB channels, are you," I said, and Jenks's eyes widened.

"No...," he said, his stance turning suspicious. "Why?"

Glenn pulled to the curb before the church and shoved the car into park. "We kept everything off the airwaves," he said as he leaned over the backseat and groped for his coat. "We didn't want the I.S. to show up."

"Rache?" Jenks said warily, hovering as I hid my hands so he couldn't see them shake. "What did you do?"

I looked at the church, wanting to be in it but too tired to move. "Tom and I had a chat."

A flash of pixy dust lit the car, and Glenn jumped. "Damn it, Rache," Jenks swore. "Why didn't you call us! I owe him his left nut between his teeth."

Guilt and fear mixed, and it came out as anger. "I didn't have a choice!" I shouted, and Jenks hovered backward to land on the dash. He said nothing as I fumbled to open the door. Planting my feet on the pavement, I wearily stood to look up at the church. The night was cool, and I shifted uncomfortably in my damp underwear. Crap, I was tired.

Jenks's wings were a silent blur as he flew too close to me. Not landing on my shoulder, he whispered, "I didn't want to leave you, Rache." Guilt lay heavy in his voice. "I must have gotten sucked out when the lines closed. But I knew you could figure it out. You'll never be stuck in the ever-after again."

This last was said with heavy pride, and I swallowed, using the excuse of shutting the car door to avoid looking at him. To tell him what had really happened was too hard. Seeing his eager face and happy stance, I was afraid. Jenks was too excited to pick up that things were being left unsaid. Things that were really going to screw my life - and by association, theirs - up.

"Ivy!" Jenks said suddenly. "I gotta tell Ivy you're back. Damn, I'm glad you're here."

My breath caught as he darted to my shoulder and I felt the cool touch of pixy wings on my face. "I thought I'd lost you," he whispered. And then he was gone.

Bewildered, I stared at the sifting dust he had left in his wake. Behind me was the thump of a closing door, and I turned to see Glenn coming around to the walk.

"A-Ah," I stammered, "thanks for the ride, Glenn. And everything else."

The streetlight lit his face as he pressed his lips together, making his small mustache stick out. "Mind if I walk you in?" he asked, and I felt a moment of quickly dampened alarm. Jenks might not have been listening, but Glenn had been. His investigative flags were raised, and if I didn't invite him in, he'd have to choose between our friendship and a warrant. He wanted to know how I had ended up in Tom's basement. And seeing as I needed all my friends right now, I nodded in surrender.

Arms held to myself, I looked back into the car for my nonexistent bag. Glenn had put my splat gun in a brown paper bag to get it past the evidence guys and out of the basement, and I felt stupid holding it when Glenn handed it to me. I looked up at the softly lit sign with our names on it, and I wondered if this entire partnership had been such a good idea. Bis blinked at me from his high perch, and I pushed myself into moving. A part of me was waiting for him to try to keep me out, and when he didn't, I felt better.

Tags: Kim Harrison The Hollows Fantasy
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