The Outlaw Demon Wails (The Hollows #6)

The Outlaw Demon Wails (The Hollows #6) Page 28

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.

"You want some coffee?" I said to Glenn as my feet moved silently on the cracked sidewalk. Heaven knew I did.

My head jerked up as the church door was flung open and Ivy took two hurried steps onto the stoop before seeing me. Her pace slowed, but she continued on, her arms wrapped around herself as if she was cold. Shadows disguised her face, but her posture held worry and fear. Jenks was with her.

"See?" he said, as proud as if he had pulled me back from the ever-after himself. "I told you! She figured it out, and here she is. Safe and back where she belongs."

Ivy hit the sidewalk and kept coming. Her attention flicked briefly to Glenn, then fixed on me. "You're here," she said softly, her gray-silk voice carrying an entire twenty-four hours of fear and worry.

She pulled herself to a stop a few steps away, and her hands fell to her sides as if she didn't know what to do with them, afraid to reach out. She turned to anger instead. "Why didn't you call us?" she said, finally reaching hesitantly out and taking that stupid paper bag from me. "We would have picked you up."

My heart heavy, we headed to the steps. Jenks flew between us trailing a faint silver dust. "She went by herself to kick some black-witch ass," he said, and Ivy's gaze sharpened.

"You went to Tom's?" she said. "We're a team. It could have waited a few hours."

I took a breath, and then, right there at the foot of the stairs, I gave her a hug. She stiffened for an instant, then her hands went around me and the crackle of brown paper sounded against my back. Vampire incense grew strong, and my eyes closed as I breathed it in. Immediately my muscles relaxed and the prick of tears grew hot. I'd been so scared, with no way home and a lifetime of degradation facing me. She was my friend, and I could give her a freaking hug if I wanted to.

Ivy's stiffness grew, and I let go of her with one hand so that we stood more shoulder-to-shoulder than front-to-front. She was nervously watching Glenn for his reaction, but I couldn't care less. "I didn't go after him," I said as she helped me up the stairs. "It sort of happened."

The door was open, and in the darkness of the foyer and the confusion of two dozen pixies swirling around us and Glenn, I pulled her attention to me by taking her arm. "I'm so glad to see you," I whispered. "I don't know what's going to happen at sunrise. I need your help."

"What?" she said, concern replacing all her fear-based anger.

But Jenks had cleared the room of his kids, and I pressed my lips together, trying to tell her that I had to talk to her alone. Or at least without Glenn listening.

Her perfect oval face went blank, and I saw her understanding. She turned her upper lip in as she thought, and I let go of her arm. "You want some coffee, Glenn?" she asked suddenly.

My shoulders eased. We'd get Glenn out of here fast by pretending everything was okay. And frankly, I needed to pretend everything was okay - if only for a few minutes.

Glenn's brow rose suspiciously at the offer, but he ambled in after us. He did a good job of hiding that he knew we were trying to get rid of him, but he looked like a cop when he settled himself at the table. Telling Ivy he didn't mind waiting for a new pot, he arched his eyebrows at me and crossed his arms over his chest - and stared. He wasn't going to leave until he heard it all.

Jenks was hovering over my shoulder like there was a string between us. My worry crashed down as I slumped into my spot at the table and tried to decide where to start. The familiar noises of Ivy making coffee were incredibly soothing, and my eyes scanned the kitchen, marking the empty spots where I had moved spelling supplies into the belfry.

A sudden clenching of my chest took my breath away. I was a demon. Or so close to one that it didn't matter. That I had made a human my familiar should have been the first clue. I felt filthy, like the smut on my soul was leaking off and staining everything I loved.

And as Glenn eyed the basket of cherry tomatoes with avarice and prattled on about how he liked a good strong cup of coffee while he waited for me to get on with it, I felt the bolts of my life lock the door to my past. I had only one way to go, and it was going to be hard as hell. Logic said there was no way to rescue Trent. He had accepted his failure and asked me to save his species. But I didn't live or die by percentages, and I wouldn't sit and accept it. It would prey on me forever.

"I...I have to talk to you," I said, and the conversation cut off with the startling suddenness of a kite smacking headfirst into the ground.

Ivy turned from the coffeemaker, arms over her middle and her face pale. The pitch of Jenks's wings faded to nothing as he landed on the napkin holder. Glenn's breath slid out of him in anticipation, and I steadied myself, trying to find a way to say what I needed to without telling them what Trent's dad had done to me.

"You didn't get back here on your own," Ivy guessed, and Jenks's wings stopped. "Did you have to buy another mark?" I shook my head, and Ivy's relief turned to a wary suspicion, then horror. "Where's Trent?"

Oh, God, she thought I had bought my freedom with Trent. Everyone would. Vision blurring, I shook my head, my gaze on a series of lines indented into the table, realizing they were Ivy's name in a careful, preschool print.

Why am I here? I thought as I tried to find a way to tell them what I was. I was a demon, and I was likely going to be pulled back into the ever-after in a few hours.

I was a demon, but they were my friends. I had to believe that they wouldn't turn me away. My head hurt, and taking a slow breath, I looked up. "Jenks, could you clear out your kids?"

His wings increased in pitch, and Ivy winced. "Sure," he said, his unease obvious as he made a series of three whistles. A smattering of complaints rose, and the room went silent as the children left. Jenks rubbed his wings together in a harsh discord, and three more darted out from under the sink and were gone.

My gaze dropped, and I pulled my knees up to my chin, grasping my shins awkwardly so my heels almost slipped off the chair. I wanted to be mad at Trent for everything, but this wasn't his fault. I thought of my demon scar, and a bitter anger lifted through me. I'm a demon; I ought to just accept it.

But I wouldn't. And I didn't have to.

I looked up to fasten on Ivy's stillness. Her face was empty of emotion, but her eyes were swimming. "I got out," I said in a monotone. "Trent didn't."

The soft creak of the back door closing brought Ivy's head around, and I looked to the hallway. Ceri was standing in the threshold, her filmy white dress edged in purple and green floating about her bare feet, and her hair wild. Tears marked her face, and she looked beautiful. "Rachel?" she warbled, guilt and fear heavy in her voice.

And with that, I realized that Ceri had known. She had known I was a demon, and that was why she hadn't wanted me to go to the ever-after, lest I figure it out myself.

My face bunched up, and I held my knees tighter. "Why didn't you tell me?" I asked.

She took three steps in and stopped. "Because you aren't," she said, pleading. "You are a witch, Rachel. Never forget it."

It wasn't her words but the vehemence she said them with that convinced me she'd rather believe a happy lie than a harsh truth. Damn it, she had known. I could almost pin the moment she'd realized it. She'd been treating me differently ever since Minias had pulled the focus from me and put it into David. No, it had started before that, with the scrying mirror.

My eyes must have given me away, for she strode across the room with a familiar righteous anger. "You are a witch!" she shouted, spots of color showing and her hair flaring out magnificently. "Close your mouth! You are a witch!"

Jenks was hovering in questioning shock. "Why wouldn't she be?" he asked, and Ivy slumped. I looked at her and bit my lip, tears of frustration slipping from me. I think Ivy had figured it out.

"I'm a witch," I said, continuing the lie. But Ceri hadn't touched me yet.

"I didn't want you to go," Ceri said, standing helplessly before me.

Unable to bear it, I put my feet on the floor and took her hand. It was cold, and she didn't pull away. "Thank you," I whispered. "Am I going to stay here, or will I be pulled back?"

Ivy moaned softly, turning to grip the sink and look into the black garden. Ceri glanced at her, then at Jenks's confusion, and finally, back to me. "I don't know," she said softly.

Jenks rose up high, his wings clattering aggressively. "Someone better tell me what the hell is going on, or I'm going to pix the lot of you."

Blinking fast, Ivy turned, one arm wrapped around her middle, the other holding her head. "You said Rachel twisted the curse. She has Al's summoning name," she said to the floor. "She didn't buy a way back and she didn't learn how to travel the lines. She was pulled back to reality when Tom summoned Al."

"So?" Jenks said acerbically, then hesitated, dropping to the table. "Oh. Shit."

A flash of fear took me, and the shame of being summoned into someone else's circle.

"Rachel is not a demon," Ceri said, and Glenn finally got it, his broad shoulders turning sideways as he gaped at me.

"No," I said bitterly, twisting in my chair and not looking at anyone. "I'm a witch whose blood can kindle demon magic, and who has been integrated into their system so well that I'm bound by their rules of summoning."

"No, you aren't."

I wanted to believe Ceri, but I was afraid to. "Then what am I?" I whispered. She had to know. She had lived among them.

Ceri's face went frightened. "You are what you are."

My gaze met Ivy's to find a sliver of fear.

I couldn't take it anymore. Rising, I ran to the bathroom, slamming the door and slumping onto the closed toilet, miserable. There was a commotion in the hall: worried voices and frustrated accusations. A tear slid down, and I let it. I should cry. I should be crying my freaking eyes out. I think my dad had known, too. Why else would he have asked Cincinnati's top ley line instructor to flunk me, then collect a library of demon texts for me?

"Rachel?" came Jenks's voice amid a close clatter of pixy wings, and I pulled my head up.

"Get out!" I shouted, lashing out with a flick I knew would never land. "Damn it, you stupid pixy, get out!"

"No!" he exclaimed, getting in my face. "Rachel, listen to me. You smell like a witch. Well, you stink like the ever-after right now, but when you wash it off, you'll smell like a witch. And come sunup, you will be here. You won't be pulled to the ever-after. I won't let you!"

His expression was desperate, and I listlessly extended a hand for him to land on. I held my breath and caught my misery back behind a throat-hurting gulp. He landed on it, flying up briefly when Ivy barged in, sending the door swinging into the wall.

"God save you!" I exclaimed, jumping. "I shut the door because I wanted to be alone!"

Ivy's usually placid face was pinched with worry. Tension had pulled her shoulders up, and her movements to tuck her short hair behind an ear were sharp. "You are not a demon," she said, her words precise. "You're sitting in a church. No demon can do that. Glenn said you lied to get out of that circle, and nothing happened to you. You weren't held accountable. You're not a demon, and you won't be pulled back when the sun comes up."

Exhausted in mind and soul, I looked up at her, wanting to believe, but too afraid to do so. "I hope so," I whispered, knowing they wouldn't like what I was going to say next. "But if I was, it would make rescuing Trent easier."