Kim Harrison - The Witch with No Name

“I could really use your help,” Edden said, and then muffled, “No! You want them to end up as toads? Set up blocks and keep people back. That’s it.” There was a brief silence. “Rachel?”

The car had started with a satisfying brumm, and I watched the open top fold out, settling over us with a whine and a thump. “Any leads on who blew up my kitchen?” I asked, and when Edden said nothing, I added, “Sorry, I’m retired.”

Jenks made a burst of dust from the mirror, and Trent put up a finger for him to high-five.

“Rachel . . . ,” Edden complained.

“No.” Phone tucked between my shoulder and ear, I managed to lock my side of the top down. “Ask Landon to help you.”

“Rachel, the I.S. is focused on policing the soul parties in the big parks. They’re ignoring everything, demons included. We’re trying to handle it, but you can guess how that’s going.”

Trent leaned close as he turned to look behind us to back up, and I swear my skin tingled as I breathed him in, burnt amber and all. “Demons are terrorizing Carew Tower,” Edden was saying, but I was still enjoying Trent. “They let the big cats out of their enclosures at the zoo, and I’ve got multiple reports of them taking over the bus line. The demons, not the tigers. Sunrise is hours off, and I need your help!”

I pushed my fingers into my forehead, trying to decide if I wanted to tell Edden this might not go away with the sun, but my home had exploded and no one had admitted it had happened other than the building inspector. “And this is my problem why?” I asked as Trent backed up. Jenks clutching for the stem of the rearview mirror.

“It’s your problem because you’re the only one who can help!” Edden said. “With great power must also come great responsibility.”

“That is bull !” I shouted, and Jenks’s wings burst into a surprised red. “The only thing great power ever gave me was a dwindling bank account and a court order to stay out of San Francisco. Where was the FIB when my church was attacked, Edden? Where were you when you knew damn well the vampires were plotting to kill me? The I.S. I can understand, but what about you? Has anyone even been out to my church to investigate?”

Trent’s grip on the wheel tightened, and I settled back in my seat and angled the vents to me. “Look, I gotta go make spaghetti for Trent. He doesn’t think I can cook.” Little girls like spaghetti, don’t they?

Edden’s sigh only made me angrier. “Making the vampires accountable will take more money than rebuilding the church,” he muttered.

“So they get away with it?” I said bitterly as Trent took a turn too fast and Jenks swore at him to slow down.

“You’re a demon, Rachel. What can we do that you can’t?”

Pissed, I held the phone closer. “I’m not saying you should’ve tried to stop them, but you are ignoring the fact that it happened! If you don’t say it’s wrong, then you’re telling them you agree. And now you want me to bail you out of trouble because I have the balls and skills and associates to make a fist of it?”

Make a fist of it? Crap on toast, where had that come from?

Jenks was looking kind of worried, and I resolved to ease up a little. Edden was way over his head and the I.S. wouldn’t help. I was going to do what I could, such as it was, but I wanted to know I wasn’t out there by myself. Edden, though, hadn’t said anything, and not wanting him to hang up, I said, “Look. I agree that master vampires crying in their cups isn’t a good thing and that demons laughing in theirs is even worse, but either I’m a part of this world or I’m not. Either you stand up and say something, or you ignore it and tell them it was acceptable to try to kill me.”

I jumped when Trent’s hand landed on mine and he gave it a squeeze.

“I see your point,” Edden finally said, and I exhaled. “I should have lodged a formal protest, posted on the FIB news feed, gotten a team out there to make a report. We’re too used to ignoring things out of our control.”

“Thank you,” I whispered.

“But the I.S. isn’t functioning and demons are causing trouble.” Edden’s voice quickened. “Can you get them to back off? We’ve got laws on the books for demons now, but no way to administer them.”

Laws on the books. If there was one thing demons understood, it was rules. The trick was to get them to go along with them because I wasn’t going to spend the rest of my life enforcing them—even if I was the only one who could. Damn it, how did I get here? Fingers pushing into my forehead again, I hoped Ivy was okay. “Where are they?”

Jenks sighed, and Trent’s grip tightened on the wheel once more. We’d stopped at a red light, and when it turned green, he sat there and waved at the car behind us to go around.

“I’ve got a group at a coffeehouse two blocks from the FIB,” Edden said, and Trent flicked the turn signal on. “We’ve got it cordoned off but . . .”

“Junior’s? I mean Mark’s?” I asked, wincing. Sweet ever-loving pixy dust. What was it with that place?

“Ah, yes. I think that’s the name of it.”

I had my shoulder bag, but there wasn’t anything in it that would be of use against uncooperative demons. Damn it back to the Turn. “Okay,” I said around a sigh. “I’ll talk to them. Keep your men back. Just having them there is enough of a statement. I don’t want anyone turned into a toad.”

“Rachel, I’m sorry,” Edden said, his entire demeanor shifting now that I’d said yes. “I never thought of it that way. You seem so capable of anything.”

“Don’t worry about it,” I said, not liking the empty streets as we sped over the bridge and into Cincinnati. No one was out here, and it was creepy. “I’m still going to send you a bill.”

I could hear the smile in his voice, the relief, when he next spoke. “I’ve got a couple of tickets for the FIB picnic with your name on them. Oh, and don’t get Trent killed, okay?”

Trent’s teeth caught the gleam of the streetlight as he smiled, and I felt his hold on a ley line tingle through me. “Hey, tell the I.S. I could use a couple of vans designed for ley line witches, eh?”

A burst of dust lit the car. “Shit, Rache! You’re going to arrest them?”

I didn’t have time for this. “Maybe.”

“You got it,” Edden said, and I nodded as I hung up and closed my phone.

My stomach quivered, and I dropped my phone in my bag. Splat gun, lethal detection charms, gum, key-chain flashlight, a pair of ankle socks I’d worn the last time Trent tried to teach me golf. Mr. Fish.

Yeah, that ought to do it.

You sure you want to do this with Jenks and me?” I said as we slowed at an FIB blockade.

Trent waved at the FIB guys, and recognizing us, they gestured us through. “Absolutely,” he said distantly, and I felt warm, loved in a way. This sucked. It really sucked. It was so not fair to have Trent this close and finally understand what Al and Quen and Jonathan had known all along. What Trent and I wanted was never going to happen. I couldn’t keep dragging him down like this. He could end all of this by taking control of the enclave. But he couldn’t do that with me at his side . . .

What we wanted might not make any difference in a few minutes, though. The lights were up high at Mark’s, and I could see figures at the tables even before we parked. My grimace deepened as Jenks checked his sword, and I pulled my shoulder bag onto my lap. Ivy would be fine at her folks’ house, and she was in no state of health to help me.

“I swear, this place has got to be on an invisible ley line or something,” Trent said as we pulled in. There were only a couple of cars, and my brow pinched seeing the people afraid to move as they sat between demons in suits. Crap on toast, Mark is probably in there, too.