Chapter Twenty
I leaned forward over the backseat to look up at the tall conference hotel we were trying to turn into, feeling lost as we waited for traffic to clear. We weren't in my mom's car since it would be impossible to find a parking spot. No, we were still cashing in on Trent's hospitality, and we'd ridden across town in the car his hotel had on reserve for when their most important guests wanted to go somewhere. The car was long, black, and shiny, and came with a driver. Only problem was that Trent wasn't in it. No Jenks, either. To say I was worried would be like saying pixies were a tad mischievous.
It was getting close to midnight and the conference was starting to kick into high gear. Lights from the oncoming traffic were nonstop. Pierce sat beside me, his feet spread wide as he tried to look unaffected by the crowds, but I could tell they were getting to him. He wasn't happy that the coven had used his chat with Vivian to take a shot at me, and he'd apologized several times, thinking I blamed him. I didn't, but the odds the demons had given me were sounding more realistic than they had.
Pierce was wearing his long coat despite the weather being too hot for it, and he held his hat like a life preserver. Dressed in brown slacks and a brightly colored vest over a white shirt, he made an odd statement-one that was probably going to go unnoticed. Just from the car, I could see three witches in traditional robes and hats. Behind them was a woman wearing wings for the ball tonight, and behind her three guys dressed like Neo from The Matrix. To be fair, though, there were just as many people wearing business suits as pointy hats, and the clothing of choice seemed to be jeans. Goth was still in, and almost every fifth person had a glowing bracelet with SAN FRANCISCO-2008 blinking from it, this year's knick-knack of choice, apparently.
Ivy is going to fit right in, I thought as I glanced at her, up with the driver. The turn signal of the car ticked as we sat in silence, waiting for someone to move so we could pull into the drop-off area. I leaned back into the cushions, my curiosity rising when Pierce reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a badge with SECURITY on it. "When did you get that?" I asked as he looped it over his head. The name on it was Wallace Smyth. Holy crap, Pierce stole it?
He smiled, teeth glinting in the light of the oncoming traffic. "This afternoon," he said, shuffling through his pockets again to bring out two more. "Before the cowardly dogs attacked you. You can't get past the first floor without a badge. Ivy, here is yours. I thought you'd like the black."
Ivy took the black lanyard, looking bemused. Her badge had her name on it. "Thank you, Pierce," she said, looping it over her neck, and he smiled.
"And, Rachel, I picked up yours, as well. It was good I did. You may have paid for it months ago, but they'd lost it and it took three people an hour to produce another."
"I'm not surprised," I said, feeling the cool plastic in my fingers. Mine said PRESENTER. Great. I was part of the entertainment.
"Thanks, Pierce," I said as I attached it to my bag, hoping there wasn't a bug or a charm on it. If we got stopped because Pierce had stolen a badge, I was going to be mad, but I really appreciated his picking them up. I didn't give him enough credit, and a pang of guilt twanged through me.
The hum of my phone from my bag made it worse, and my foot started to bob as I ignored it. I knew who it was without looking. Ivy turned from the front, eying me. "If you keep avoiding him, he will think you are mad at him," she said, clearly able to hear it as well.
"I know," I said, wincing, thinking it curious that she knew who it was, too. Maybe I was telegraphing my body language louder than I thought.
"Who?" Pierce questioned, looking up from arranging his badge.
Ivy smiled softly. "Bis is waking up in the daylight when Rachel pulls on a line."
The man made a surprised grunt, and I flushed. "How do you know?" I asked her, wishing the traffic would clear so I could avoid this conversation. In my bag, my phone continued to hum.
"I take his calls," Ivy said dryly, then turned to face me fully. "Rachel, he's older than you think. He's not looking for a date, he's just confused. Talk to him!"
"I'm confused, too," I exclaimed softly, my guilt growing stronger. "I never asked him to be my gargoyle. It's wrong. It's slavery!"
Exhaling in exasperation, Ivy rolled her eyes to the car's ceiling. "I know what slavery is, and this isn't it," she said. "He does have his own life. And don't forget, he sought you out, not the other way around. You are something he needs, and I don't think you have a say in it. Talk to him. He thinks you don't like him," she added, and I bit my lower lip, even more concerned. That was not at all what I had wanted to happen.
"He's bonding with you? Already?" Pierce said, his eyes wide. "He's just a kid!"
"See?" I said, and Ivy turned around in exasperation. "Even Pierce knows it's wrong."
She was silent, but I could see she was clenching her jaw. Frustrated, I took out my phone. It wasn't humming anymore. A soft depression had taken me, not all of it from the upcoming trial. "He is, isn't he," I said softly as I looked at the tiny screen, more of a statement than a question.
Pierce's hand touched mine, and I jumped. "There is nothing improper about this relationship," he said seriously, making me all the more uncomfortable. "This is not a bond of love, but of necessity. You need a gargoyle to teach you to jump the lines, and in turn, you will give him a holy place to live, safe from demons."
"Safe from demons," I said, and the driver shifted uncomfortably, the back of his neck stiff. "Yeah, right."
But I slipped my phone into a tiny pocket in my bag, hoping I didn't miss his next call. Hell, I should just grow a pair and call him back while I still had a chance. I was running out of time. My stomach hurt, and I ran my hand over the smooth bumps of the French braid my hair was now in. Outside the car, people were moving quickly, their excitement making their pace fast and their words high-pitched. A spot finally opened up and the car pulled into the drop-off area. Pierce was out of the car even before it stopped moving, coming around to open my door. Ivy dropped her head and searched her purse for a tip, and I gathered myself to get out, glad to put off my chat with Bis for a few minutes more. The scent of exhaust-tainted wet cement mixed with the sound of hushed tires and loud conversations over engine noise.
Was Bis bonding with me? It sounded so...demonic.
"Rachel?"
It was Pierce, and he had his arm out to escort me. Giving him a worried smile, I looped my arm in his and together we went to the curb. I felt like I was in a spotlight, but no one was looking at me despite my wearing enough leather for a small cow. I'd left Al's purple sash at home-and the cap. I didn't care if I was the only one who would know purple was a sign of demon favor. It felt like a leash.
Ivy's door shut with a solid thunk, and the car took off, immediately replaced by another just like it. "Ready?" she said as she joined us, her eyes bright and her motions quick. She was wearing her boots, and they clicked smartly on the pavement.
"As much as I'll ever be," I said, turning to the twin set of double doors. Pierce's hand landed on mine, and with him on one side and Ivy on the other, we went in, my high-magic-detecting amulet sputtering a hazy red. I wasn't surprised when every last erg of painstakingly gathered ever-after washed out of me. Hotel security. You can't have a group of witches this size without some kind of leveling field. Pierce's hand left me, and he shifted his coat on his shoulders as if trying to fit into a new skin.
Our pace slowed, as much for the people clustered near the door as for the sound of a hundred conversations beating on our ears. Single file, we passed among the groups of people gathering here to either step out to make a call, have a smoke, or just use the front as a place to meet their friends. I followed Pierce with half my attention, more interested in the huge chandelier that stretched up six stories, dominating the entire interior cave. The ever-after draining out of me when we had crossed the threshold had been caused by something and I was betting it was this. It looked a lot like the device Lee had had on his boat, but a whole lot bigger.
My dropping gaze landed on a black-suited man with absolutely no expression on his face. He was wearing sunglasses and staring at me. Nervous, I set a hand on Pierce's shoulder, anxious not to lose him in the crowd.
"I see them, too," Ivy said from behind me.
Them? There was more than one?
Pierce turned, waiting for us to catch up with him as we finally got through the worst of the crowd. "I walked the place this afternoon," he said, glancing first at the man I had noticed, then to another by a bank of elevators. "Registration is that way. Food is that way. Rest areas are on the first and third floors."
I was guessing he meant bathrooms, and a sudden urge to cross my legs and do the little-girl dance took me. Relax, Rachel.
"I should have been doing that," Ivy muttered, and Pierce nodded, ticking me off. Ivy had been there to help me beat off the coven. He had no right to make her feel guilty.
Still not undoing his coat, he led us across the lower floor. "You were a mite busy keeping Rachel's body and soul together," Pierce said, then pointed up to the overlooking second story. "The common entry to the auditorium is up there. There is an entrance on the ground floor, but it's guarded. Coven members only."
"Good, an escalator," I said, stifling a shiver.
"Since when are you afraid of elevators?" Ivy said as she got on before me and Pierce got on behind me, his hand on the small of my back, steadying me. I'd take offense, but I was ready to bolt and my knees felt like rubber.
"I'm not," I protested, pulse quickening. God, it's about to happen. My entire life is going to change in the next hour. "I'm-"
"Thinking about the coven taking a last potshot at you. I know." Ivy came back even with me as we passed a group of harmless-looking witches on their way down. I dropped my gaze so I didn't have to make eye contact, adjusting my badge on my bag. If I held my arm just right, it would be obvious I had a badge without making it easy to read my name. I didn't want to be recognized, but I think I was by the amount of whispering and pointing going on. Unless it was my dress.
Ivy was first off, and I found myself exhaling as I followed. Pierce bumped into me, and looping his arm in mine, he almost pulled me to the set of double doors across from the wide, low-ceilinged, lobbylike area. People were clustered here, too, and I felt myself pale as the conversations stilled and faces turned to us. I heard the click of a phone camera, and I shook myself.