The Outlaw Demon Wails (The Hollows 6) - Page 69

Chapter Thirty-one

It was quiet now, just the small agitated ticks of Jenks tapping his foot against Ceri's porcelain teacup to mar the stillness. I felt bad about screwing up everyone's lives, but in a few hours I'd either be dead or a permanent fixture in the ever-after. Settling this with a happy ending was still a possibility, but the odds were looking really slim. I was hoping for it of course, but honestly, what were the chances?

Glenn had left to get my mother after I'd kicked everyone out of the bathroom to take a shower, so it was just the four of us now, the mood tense and the feeling of harsh words yet unsaid heavy in the air. God, I was tired. The cup of coffee in my grip wasn't helping at all. A bowl of baked cheese crackers was within my reach, and I put one in my mouth. The sharp cheddar flavor bit at the sides of my mouth, and I slowly chewed. Grabbing a handful, I ate them one by one, feeling guilty that I was clean and eating cheese crackers when Trent was in a cell.

Seeing me moving, Jenks took to the air to try again. "Why?" he said belligerently, a thin trace of red dust spilling from him to pool on the table as he landed in his best Peter Pan pose. "Why do you give a fairy's hairy ass about what happens to Trent?"

I rubbed my finger over Ivy's dented signature, feeling the past. She had been innocent once. So had I. So Trent can tell me what the hell his dad did to me? Because I need him to say that I'm not a demon? So he can find a way to reverse it? "Because if I don't," I said softly, "everyone will think that I bought my freedom with his life." Jenks snorted, and my blood pressure rose. "Because I promised I'd get him home," I said more forcefully. "I'm not going to let him rot there."

"Rachel...," Jenks cajoled.

From her computer, Ivy glowered at him. "She promised to get him home if he paid for her way there and back. I don't like it any more than you do, but you're going to shut up and listen. If we can find a way, we'll do it."

"But he didn't get her home," Jenks protested. "She did that herself. And who cares if he rots in the ever-after?"

Ivy stiffened, and Ceri silently watched, evaluating.

"I care," I said, pushing the crackers away and trying to get the cheese out of my teeth.

"Yeah, but Rache - "

"He's not home!" I shouted, ticked. "That was the deal!"

Jenks's feet hit the table, and he turned his back on me. Wings still, he bowed his head.

Ceri eased into the chair beside me and set an open spell book on the table. There was a pair of glasses perched on her nose and a pencil between her teeth. The pixies had braided her hair while I had cried in the shower, and she looked decidedly studious. She had reddened when I noticed her new glasses, but I hadn't said anything. I think she was proud that she was aging again and needed them.

Frankly, I was surprised Ivy was siding with me. I'd like to think that it was because she considered holding to one's word important, or because she thought Trent was worth going back for on his own merits, but the truth was Trent's absence would cause big problems in Cincy's underground power balance. Rynn Cormel flexing his muscles and reasserting control was something she wasn't looking forward to. It's harder to fall in love with a man when he's killing people.

Glancing up, I blinked at the odd figure Ceri was idly tracing over and over on the yellow legal pad she had on the open spell book. I was sure the glyph was from a demon curse; there was a faint haze of black emanating from it. I caught her gaze, and she winced, drawing a circle around it to contain whatever force she had drawn into existence before crumpling the paper up, dropping it into her empty teacup, and setting fire to it with a ley line charm.

Jenks sputtered at the black flame, but Ivy stopped his budding harangue with a hissed comment I didn't quite catch.

"What if I learn how to jump the lines?" I said, searching for the first hints of a plan. "If I could get in undetected, that would be half the battle. Maybe more. Simple snag and drag." It wasn't, but I could build on the idea.

Ceri took the end of her pencil and crushed even the ash to dust. "Learn how to trip the lines before sunrise? No. I'm sorry, Rachel. It takes decades."

Ivy leaned past her cracked monitor. "Why sunrise?"

The pretty elf 's shoulders drooped. "That's when the lines will close to summoning travel and they will make a decision. Right now, Trent's probably still in holding, but as soon as they're sure no one will be pulled out of negotiations, he will be sold."

Sold. It was an ugly word, and I felt my face twist. Seeing it, Ceri shrugged. "Anything you want to do, you need to do before someone buys him, or you will be dealing with a specific demon, not a committee. Committees are difficult, but a single demon is tenacious where a committee will only want to make sure they all get something."

This was wrong. Really wrong, and I sighed when Jenks swore at Ivy, dramatically crossed his chest as if making a promise, then flew to my cracker bowl.

"Trent doesn't have a great deal of value as a familiar," Ceri was saying, her eyes down in what looked like embarrassment, "but it's not often that a potential familiar stumbles into the ever-after without a preexisting claim by another demon. There are a lot of demons who will pay, not caring that there will be a long downtime to bring him up to usefulness. That's what Al does to make his bread and butter."

I hesitated, thinking it might explain why Al was so hot for Nick and then me. "He trains familiars?" I asked, and Ceri shook her head. She had begun to doodle again, and I stared at the pair of tortured eyes taking form on the yellow paper, trapped behind lines of blue.

"In a manner of speaking," she said softly. "He finds suitable candidates, instructs them enough to make them profitable, then tricks them into the ever-after to be sold for his gain. Al is good at it, and he's made an exceptional life selling people to those unwilling to cross the lines to get their own."

Jenks's wings clattered and Ivy clicked her computer off, not bothering to pretend to be working anymore. "He's a slave dealer?" she asked, and Ceri drew a slumped figure of a man at the base of a tombstone.

"Yes. Which is why he's so angry you have his summoning name. It takes finesse to build a list of people who know his name and are potential familiars. Not to mention the effort invested in the pre?Csoul stealing stage, the drudgery of building them up and teaching them something to increase their value, maintaining the balance of having enough people know his name without having so many that it becomes tedious. And then there's the risk that after all the smut he takes on building up a potential familiar, he will take a loss if they don't bring in a high enough price."

I snorted, leaning back in my chair and crossing my knees as I thought of Nick. "He's a freaking familiar pimp." Tom had better watch out, or he was going to be next. Not that I cared.

Jenks rose, and a column of silver sparkles fell to fill the bowl like frosting. "Ivy, stealing people is his job. You gotta help me here. Rachel doesn't need to do this. It's stupid, even for her!"

My eyes narrowed, but Ivy stretched casually, her belly button ring showing. "If you don't stop badgering her, I'm going to smack you into the wall so hard you won't wake up for a week," she said. Jenks lost altitude, and Ivy added as she headed over, "Someone has to pull Kalamack's ass out of the ever-after. You think I can do it?"

"No," he protested weakly, "but why does Rachel have to? Trent knew the risks."

He knew the risks and trusted me to get him out, I thought, unable to meet Ceri's gaze.

Ivy leaned with her elbows on the center island counter. "Why don't you stop trying to convince her not to go and start trying to figure out how you can go with her."

"She won't let me!" he shouted.

"No one is going with me," I said firmly, and Jenks let a burst of silver slip from him.

"See!" he exclaimed, pointing.

My teeth clenched, and Ivy cleared her throat in warning. "I said I'd get him out," I muttered, flipping through the sketches that Ceri had drawn of the underground demon city.

"And I'm coming with you," he said belligerently.

I exhaled, trying to get my jaw to relax, but it wasn't working. In the past year, living and working with Ivy and Jenks, I had learned how to trust others. It was time to remember that I could trust myself, too. That I could do this on my own. And I would. "Jenks - "

"Don't 'Jenks' me," he said, landing on the rolled-over seam of the yellow tablet, his wings going for balance and his finger pointed. "We pop in, grab him, and pop out."

"That won't work," Ceri interrupted softly, and Jenks spun.

"Why the hell not? Plan B worked with that fish. It will work for Trent!"

Ceri's eyes darted to mine and then back to Jenks's. "Whoever Rachel buys the trips from will simply snag her. Or tell Newt, who now has a solid claim on her."

I scuffed my foot, almost able to feel the raised, slashed circle on the bottom of it. "What if I just go through Newt?" I threw out there, desperate. "She might forget about it."

Ceri stiffened. "No," she said, and Ivy's expression went guarded at the woman's almost-panic. "Not Newt. You already wear one mark from her. She's insane. She says one thing, then does another. You can't trust her. She doesn't follow demon law, she makes it."

I flipped to the next sketch, which showed what looked like the layout for the university library, and Jenks moved to my shoulder, where I was able to judge his agitation by the strength of the draft he was making on my neck. It was cold, and I reached back and covered my bites with my hand.

Tags: Kim Harrison The Hollows Fantasy
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