Kim Harrison - The Witch with No Name

“What’s the plan, Rache?” Jenks asked, the snick of his sword catching my attention.

Plan? I looked up from Mr. Fish. “Ah, yeah. Right. Plan.”

Trent put the car in park, and I got out. Hip cocked, I waited for Trent, knowing he probably had that cap and ribbon of his somewhere and needed a moment to get it in place, but he immediately joined me. The music was loud, and there was masculine, aggressive laughter.

“Plan?” Jenks said again, and I waved to the FIB guys at the end of the street. I felt good with them there, even knowing they couldn’t do anything.

“Plan,” I said, rocking into motion when Trent’s shoes scuffed. “How about, let’s go in.”

Jenks’s dust flashed an irate red. “Tink’s titties, that’s her plan? Go in? ”

Trent shrugged, relaxed on the surface as he pulled the door open. “Works for me.”

“Just like old times,” Jenks said, cracking his knuckles as he darted in over my head.

“I’ll take the ones on the right,” Trent muttered as the door closed, chimes jingling.

The laughter stopped as they noticed us. Trent was pulling deeper on the ley lines, but I did little more than make a casual connection. I couldn’t best one demon, much less eight. No, there were nine now, and they were shifting in their chairs to face us. If I couldn’t do this without turning it into a magic slugfest, then it was over before it had begun. When you got right down to it, magic was an asset only if you were up against someone who didn’t have any.

My heart thudded. Demons hated elves. Sure, they had ridden with Trent to bring down Ku’Sox, but bringing Trent in here had been either really stupid or really smart. He had some protection as a freed familiar, but “accidents” happened.

Al was in a corner booth with Dali and Newt. Six paper-and-wax cups of coffee in various stages of emptiness sat between them. Newt beamed at me, in contrast to Al’s outright hostility. Most of the demons were at the long center table tormenting those two couples. The people were terrified, unable to leave with the demons draping their arms over their shoulders. Their relief when they saw me made me angrier still.

Plan. “We get them out first,” I said, boldly striding to the counter. Mark was there making something with crushed ice and hadn’t heard us come in. He was holding up pretty well, but his relief when he saw me was astounding.

Trent moved behind a couple. “Go,” he said, and they stood, chairs sliding and demons staring at Trent in uncertainty as the couple scrambled to leave. Seeing them headed for the door, the remaining two people stood, sinking back down when the demon beside them growled.

So far, so good. Let’s push it a little more. “You really should reevaluate your life choices,” I said as I leaned against the counter, thumbs in my pockets. The demon looked vaguely familiar, but I didn’t think I’d ever done business with him. Like the rest of the demons here, he was in a business suit, jewelry flashing and hair slicked back. Only Newt and Al maintained their usual attire, Newt in her androgynous robes and elven dewar hat, and Al in his green crushed-velvet finery. His anger that Trent was still with me was almost palpable.

My skin tingled as someone pulled heavily on a line. I didn’t think it was Trent, and my knees went wobbly when two more demons did the same. “Why are you here? With that elf ?” the demon said, voice oily with domination.

His barest hint of doubt was like a spark on a dark night, and I pulled it to me, fanning it higher with a confident smile. He was unsure, not about his skills but that this might end when the sun came up. I could use that, give them a fairy tale to think about so they’d go away and ponder the truth of it for a few hours until they knew for sure.

Smiling, I leaned over the table between him and the couple, showing him some cleavage in exchange for their freedom. “You remember Trent. He’s my boyfriend,” I said, and the couple rose at Jenks’s urging, racing for the door. “He’s taking me to his place and I’m making spaghetti, but the FIB asked me to stop on the way and give you a little welcome-to-reality message.” The door chimes jingled, and I straightened. “Seeing as you might be here for good and need to start being . . . what’s the word . . . accountable?”

He laughed at that, ugly and mean. Pulse racing, I backed up, glad Trent had put himself at the door. Past the windows, a car’s engine revved and the small Pinto drove right over the sidewalk, taking the curb hard enough to leave sparks as it found the street and drove away. If he had really wanted them, my cleavage, such as it was, wouldn’t have stopped him. “Mark, my usual!” I called out, making a finger motion for Jenks to join Trent in a doomed attempt to keep my way open.

“S-s-sure, Rachel. Double espresso grande latte, no fat, no foam, with a pump of raspberry in it. Extra hot.”

I felt better. Mark had been through this before. He had the emotional skills and a circle behind the counter to hide in. “With cinnamon on top,” I added, and the demon I’d just flashed snorted. “You got a problem with my drink order?” I said, and he raised a hand, his expression mocking. I gave him a long look before turning my back on him to go to the pickup window. The speakers blew with a pop, and chuckles rose when I jumped.

Shaking my hair out, I leaned against the counter. More demons were jumping in, and I was getting nervous. Well, more nervous than I had been. Even with Trent at the door, I’d never make it out of here unless they let me. I thought it interesting that no one had gone to the other side of the globe and to the sun. They were afraid it wouldn’t last.

“I know you’re having a good time on a Sunday night, being freed from the ever-after and all, but if you’re going to stay, we have some rules,” I said, smile wide.

Al clenched his jaw, but Newt was delighted even as that demon, Mica, I think, brought his cold stare from Trent to me. “We weren’t freed, we fought our way out,” Mica said.

“You’re Mica, right?” I said, and he nodded. “Sure, you fought your way out,” I agreed, “but tomorrow is a weekday and you should be thinking about finding somewhere to work and a place to live because you’re not bunking with me.” They were laughing, Mica’s face holding the most amusement of all. “You don’t want to exchange one prison for another, do you? I won’t say Alcatraz is inescapable, but they plugged the hole I used.”

“My God, is she serious?” Mica turned his back on me, but I thought it telling that he was looking for support among the rest. It was a new world despite their boasting and power, and they didn’t know if they were going to see the sun. Such a small thing, but it would chart their every thought until they knew.

Trent’s hold on the line strengthened, and my gaze flicked to his. Not yet, Trent. Not yet.

“This is our world now,” Mica bragged, but more than one set of eyes was pinched in concern. I had a scant few hours to convince them that condescending to play in our rule set was better than them playing out of it.

“The elves will fall first,” he said, and those who’d just popped in agreed with him. “Vampire society will falter if they lose their souls again. It will fall if they retain them. The witches will align with us as our poor cousins, and the Weres will heel or be leashed. The world will change.”

“Why even bother shifting realities if you’re going to make it just like the ever-after in your new war?” I said, and more than one demon furrowed his brow in thought.

“Coffee up!” Mark said, and I took it, eyes closing in bliss as the first sip hit my tongue, warm, sweet, and bitter, all at the same time.