Pale Demon (The Hollows 9) - Page 7

"I guessed as much," I said cheerfully, handing it over. I couldn't move through the detector until she gave me the okay, but Ivy's briefcase slid past me, and the guard asked her to step through. Behind her, a young couple with a kid in a stroller were grumbling about the holdup. I was busy making bunny-eared kiss-kisses at the baby when the attendant cleared her throat, not sounding nice at all.


"Can I see your ticket, ma'am?"


I looked up, my expression going blank. Crap, she called me ma'am. "Um, it's in my handbag," I said, seeing it in front of her. "I'm going out for my brother's wedding."


She reached for my bag as she leaned to look at the screen. "Nice dress. Bridesmaid?"


I nodded, trying to stay calm. Her attitude had shifted from boredom to a sharp interest. On the other side of security, Ivy waited with her hip cocked.


"Can I reach into your bag for your ticket?" the woman asked, and I nodded again, hope sinking. "There's a problem here," she said, not even looking at the paper.


From behind me, the couple with the kid began complaining more loudly, a businessman and what looked like an entire high school cheerleading team behind them joining in.


"My brother gave it to me," I said, leaning closer, only to have her point at the floor and a yellow line I'd never even noticed before. "I checked it online," I babbled as I backed up. "It's still good. Look, my seat is verified and everything."


"Yes, ma'am," she said, my bag with all my identification in it in her grip. Oh God, what if they slipped Brimstone in there or something? "Could you step over there, please?" she asked tightly. "Just through here." She flipped the conveyor belt up and pointed to a laminated table and three chairs set to the side. Two guys and a woman in blue were waiting for me, hands placed behind their backs so their guns and wands showed. It was the wands I was worried about.



"Sure," I said, slumping, and Jenks darted to join Ivy. Taking a deep breath, I crossed the yellow line into enemy territory, the carpet changing from dirty and threadbare to only dirty.


"Rachel?" Ivy called out with Jenks on her shoulder. "What do you want me to do?"


I hesitated. "Wait for me on the other side?"


She smiled without mirth. "I was planning on doing that anyway."


I knew she was saying more than her words were, and I dropped my eyes. Twenty minutes. I had only twenty minutes to get to my gate. Damn it! I should have known better. I wasn't going to make it. I could either spend my time arguing with these guys or grab a shuttle back to the car. Screwing up my resolve, I eyed my shoulder bag on the table and my garment bag on the counter behind them.


"Look," I said as I stopped before the table, "I don't want to waste your time. If there's not a fairy's fart in a windstorm of a chance I'm going to make my flight, or any flight for that matter, will you just let me know now so we can all get on with our lives?"


One of the men inclined his head and gave me a cigarette-stained smile. "Not a chance."


"Okay." I nodded, trying to stay calm. Looking across the conveyors and archways, I found Ivy and Jenks and made a "kill" gesture.


"Well, duh," I heard Ivy say faintly, and I turned back to the security people.


"Can I have my bags back?" I asked. Apart from my car keys, the curse to make Jenks big, and my scrying mirror, I had all the materials to make Trent's curse in my shoulder bag.


The head security guy hesitated, and I stifled a surge of anger. What did Al do to scare the crap out of me? Oh yes. Get cold and pleasant.


"Don't mess with me, Johnny Boy Scout." Pleasant was too much to ask for, but I could manage cold. "I'm being really nice right now. Just give me my purse and my dress, and I'll be on my way and out of your hair. That is the first bridesmaid's dress I've ever liked, and I'm not leaving it here." I put my hands on the table, aware of but ignoring the fact that the two subordinates had dropped back and were touching their wands. "Do we understand each other?" I said softly. "Or do I need to stamp it on your foreheads with my foot?" I smiled. That would be the pleasant part.


I felt more than saw Ivy's sleek form slip back through the security exit. Jenks was a sparkle of dust on her shoulder. "Told you so!" she shouted, not slowing as she headed for the doors.


"Yeah, you did!" I exclaimed, not taking my eyes off the head guy.


As expected, my being left to my own devices made the security people more nervous, not less. I wasn't being abandoned; I was capable of handling this on my own.


"Well?" I said, again finding my pleasant inner demon. "You going to give me my dress and my car keys, or am I going to show you why I was shunned?" My smile grew even brighter, even as my mood became more pissed.


"Give it to her," the man said, his words clipped and precise.


"But they said to detain her!" the woman said, sounding disappointed.


Taking his eyes from mine, the head security man met his subordinate's eyes. "Give the woman her dress," he said, pushing my bag back to me across the table. "She's not the one they want."


"But..."


"Give the woman her God-blessed dress!" he shouted, and everyone looked at us, the noise of a plane taking off sounding all the louder in the sudden silence. His ears reddening, he hunched like a bear. "I have had an incident-free workplace for three years, and I'm not going to let you ruin that because you want a little gold star, Annie."


The woman huffed, but the man beside her had handed me my things.


Sliding the straps of my bag over my shoulder, I accepted the unwieldy garment bag. "Thanks," I said, surprised that calm and pleasant had gotten me further than hotheaded threats. Maybe there was something to a demon's methods. My bags had never been out of my sight, but I hesitated, finding and holding the man's attention. "Are they bugged?"


"No," he said, his eyes flicking from me to the distant doors behind me and back again. "But your checked luggage probably is. Good luck, Ms. Morgan. You helped my grandfather once. About three years ago, on a bus. I think you're getting a bum rap."


I hesitated, then smiled as I searched my memory for a familiar face and found a close match. "He was being harassed by Were pups? Winter, wasn't it?" I asked, getting a flustered nod in return. "It was my pleasure. You take care of yourself, okay? And thanks."


He smiled, totally ignoring the woman behind him having a hissy, and with my pride intact, I spun on a heel and strode for the big plate-glass doors.


The second I emerged from the low-ceilinged hallway, Jenks dropped down to me. "I told you so," he sang out, wings spilling a yellow dust over me like a sunbeam. Somehow, though, I didn't have it in me to be mad. It wasn't often that I ran into anyone who knew me, and even less frequent that they thanked me.


"Yes, you did," I said, disappointed. Six hours on a plane, and I'd have been there. Now I had three days to get to the West Coast. Stiff, I pushed the automatic door aside when it didn't slide quickly enough. The fresh air hit me, and I hesitated, fumbling in my bag for a moment until I remembered that I'd sat on my sunglasses yesterday.


"What about your luggage?" Jenks asked, and I shook my head, squinting in the bright morning light and brisk wind, looking for Ivy.


"Forget it. It's bugged," I said. "I'd have to dip everything in salt water."


My new jeans, the silk sweater I was going to impress Robbie with, the swimsuit that took me three weekends to find...gone. At least I still have my dress, I thought, hiking it farther up on my shoulder. "Where's Ivy?"


Jenks's wings hit a higher pitch, and when he started swearing in one-syllable words, I followed his line of sight down to the end of the curb. Sighing, I pushed myself into motion and made my way past the chatting skycaps to the low black car. Ivy was there with her briefcase at her feet, the flat of her arms on the open front window as she talked to the driver. Her butt was giving the porters something to stare at, and not all the oglers were men. It had to be Trent. Whoopie friggin' surprise.


From somewhere above me, Jenks shrilled, "Listen to me! Listen this time, witch! This is Trent's doing! He wants to get you alone and brainwash you with a charm! Hit you with an enthrallment spell. What about yesterday, huh? You saw what he did! How stupid can you get?"


"Pretty stupid," I said, feeling my heels clunking all the way up my spine as I dodged oversize luggage and yet another cheerleading team. "Trent isn't going to charm me," I said, not so sure anymore. He had tried once before, the spell fizzling only because I'd been drenched in salt water at the time. I wanted to trust him but couldn't bring myself to do it, even if he'd shown me a part of himself that would be dangerous in the right hands. And what was with the elven magic? That stuff could kill you if you didn't do it right.


Jenks dropped down to my shoulder, reminding me of a shoulder angel. "He's going to convince you to get in that car," he said. "And then you're going to believe everything he says."


I tried look at Jenks but failed. He was too close. "Probably. I want to talk to Quen."


Wings going full tilt, Jenks drifted backward off my shoulder, sputtering.


Ivy noticed my approach and pulled herself out of the window, a hint of relief in her dark eyes. They were dilated despite the early sun but not bad. Worry, not fear. Squinting from the morning light, I looked inside to find Quen behind the wheel. A real smile came over me, and I crouched to avoid looking bad next to Ivy's perfection. Despite, or maybe because of, having fought Trent's security officer in the past, I liked Quen, and by the honest smile on the older man's pebbly textured face, I knew he liked me, too.


"Hi, Quen," I said cheerfully. "How's Ceri?"


From the backseat, Trent cleared his throat, but I was mad at him and ignored him.


"Round, irritable, and as happy as if the world were hers," Quen said, the dark-complexioned man reaching across the seat to shake my hand. It felt small in mine but powerful, and it reminded me of Pierce's. His voice was as gravelly as his skin, both remnants of the Turn. It hit some species harder than most, but witches, vampires, pure elves, and Weres not at all. Quen had some human in him. Not that I thought any the less of him for it.


"It is," I said as I took my hand back. There was something wrong with me. I could free thousand-year-old slaves, outwit militant Weres, survive exploding boats and a vampire roommate once fixated on my blood and body both, but I couldn't find my own happiness. Yet seeing Ceri smile as she held her baby? That would be a good second place.


Quen was an honorable man. If Trent was up to something he didn't approve of, he'd tell me. Wouldn't he? Unsure, I angled my head to Quen. "If you were me, what would you do?"


"I'd get in the car." His eyes were focused out the front window, his jaw tight. He was Trent's security officer and abided by his wishes, but he'd also helped raise Trent and was probably the only one besides Ceri who could say no to him with impunity. And he wanted me to get in the car. A shiver ran through me. Something bad was coming. I could feel it.


"Good enough," I said, hearing Trent's exasperated sigh from the back.


My hand went to the handle, but Ivy's was already there.


"I am not sitting in the back with Trent," she said, eyes narrowing in warning. Behind her, Jenks pantomimed being hanged.


"Oh, for Tink's diaphragm!" the pixy said. "What is wrong with you women?"


The trunk popped open with a slow whine, and I went around back to stow the garment bag nice and flat. Quen met me back there, and I handed it to him. "Thanks," I said softly as Ivy and Jenks got in the front seat, arguing. The door slammed, and Quen gently put my dress into the trunk, already holding a bland but expensive-looking piece of luggage. We had only a moment. Time for only one question. Licking my lips, I blurted out, "Did Trent send those elves yesterday to persuade me to help him?"


Quen met my eyes, a lifetime of nobility in them. "No," he said simply. "I'd feel better if he had, though."


My shoulders slumped, and I didn't move as he eased the trunk closed and the power lock whined as it shut. Squinting, I looked up at a plane taking off, roaring overhead to who knew where. Portland, maybe. My gaze dropped to the bustle of people. Life was going on, and no one but a handful of people cared if I lived or died.


"Yeah. Me, too," I said with a sigh. Feeling trapped, I went to the door that Quen opened for me and slid into the leather-scented darkness.

Tags: Kim Harrison The Hollows Fantasy
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