Kim Harrison - Ever After

Brow furrowed, the man put on a pair of glasses another handed him. His eyes widened, and his motions took on a new urgency. “Get him in the chopper. Now!”

“I didn’t see it happen,” Trent said as they counted to three and lifted the stretcher, the first man holding the IV bag high. “Morgan and I were out on another trail and felt the disturbance. I think they took Ceri and Lucy,” he said, fear crossing his face before he tried to hide it. I could see it shimmering behind his every move.

With an efficiency of motion, they loaded Quen, the sound of the blades drowning out the new conversation between the two techs. Jenks had darted in with them and out of the wind, and Ray was watching for him to come back out—silent, so silent. Still beside us, the head guy looked at the pilot, motioning for a moment of time. Concern showed in his eyes as he leaned in to be heard. “Sir, I don’t know what this is. We have to take him to the university hospital.”

Trent looked up at the whirling blades, and I held Ray tighter to me. “Are you sure? I don’t want a media circus.”

But the man was shaking his head. “We’re running out of time. He needs to be in a desensitization tank, and you don’t have one. We can try a quiet room—”

“No.” Trent looked inside, fear flickering over him like a second aura. “Go. Take him.”

The man made a motion to the pilot, and through the glass, I saw him grab a radio. “We’ll call ahead,” the tech shouted. “They’ll be ready for him. I think we’re in time, but we have to move fast to stop the damage. I have room for one more.”

Trent spun to me. His face was riven with a worry he was trying to hide with a cool efficiency. It all fell apart when he looked at Ray, then me and whispered, “Rachel . . .”

I couldn’t hear him, but I could read his lips. Something in me twisted, and I shoved it aside. “Go!” I said, propelling him toward the door as the wind whipped my hair around. “I’ve got this! Call me when you know something!”

He kissed Ray’s fingers, looking her firmly in her eyes. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.” His eyes rose to mine as the blades shrieked in the air. “Thank you.”

I held Ray closer, letting her see as we backed away. Trent effortlessly got into the medical copter. Jenks darted out just before the door closed, whipped downward and out as if he were on a roller coaster. He streaked past me, swearing at Tink, but I figured he was okay.

One hand supporting Ray, the other holding my hair, I watched the pilot do a check before lifting up. Squinting, I held my ground as more sticks and leaves blew. Blades thumping, the copter gained altitude and vanished beyond the trees, heading for Cincinnati.

Slowly the leaves settled. Shaking, I looked to where we had found Quen. The grass was flattened. Ray’s grip on my hair tugged, and I disentangled her, letting her soft, damp hand hold my fingers as I listened to the quiet, my ears ringing.

Jenks’s wings sounded muffled as he started to land on my shoulder, then thought better of it and hung where he was, dust sifting from him in the leftover breeze. “He’ll be okay. We got to him in time.”

I didn’t know. But I had an unusually quiet toddler on my hip and no horse. Tulpa had vanished. I didn’t blame the animal, but I needed to get back to the stables. I heard the hounds bay in the distance and shivered.

“Quen is strong,” Jenks said, his words fast as he fell into place beside me as I picked my way through the shattered vegetation. One of the trees I’d taken out had been damaged by magic, all evidence of it destroyed. The I.S. would have a cow. Either that, or blame me for the attack.

“He’s going to be okay,” Jenks said again, and I walked into the shade on the path. Hoofprints were a sad reminder of how fast life could change, the marks going both ways and crisscrossing in a chaotic mishmash.

“He’ll be okay,” I agreed just to get him to stop talking, but I didn’t know if I believed it.

Ray was still silent, leaning away from me to try to see Jenks flying over my head. I hadn’t spent a lot of time with her, but enough that I was familiar. She was so different from her sister, quiet and reserved where Lucy was outgoing and demanding. My face twisted and my gut clenched at the thought of Lucy with Ku’Sox. I had told Trent everything was going to be okay, but the uncertainty as we waited for what Ku’Sox wanted was heartbreaking.

From above my ear, Jenks made an ultrasonic chirp. “Holy toad spit!” the pixy squeaked, and I stiffened, feeling as if something was crawling through me by way of the ley line. Ray, too, stiffened, her hand in my fingers clenching harder.

Then I sucked in my breath as I felt a huge tug from the nearest ley line. It felt like a sudden drop in the road you weren’t expecting—a quick jolt and then back to normal. “What was that?” I said. The back of my head was hot, and I made a face as if trying to pop my ears.

“How should I know?” Jenks shrilled. “Listen, it’s going to do it again. Oh God, here it comes!”

I froze, my feet planted on the path as the line hiccuped and became nauseatingly erratic. Hissing, I dropped the line from my thoughts as it raked through me. Silver-edged dust fell from Jenks so thickly that Ray reached for it. The memory of that itchy feeling scraped up my spine and lodged itself in my brain. Glancing at Jenks, I tentatively tapped a ley line, squinting as I let it flow through me, tasting it. It felt okay now, but something had happened. I’d have to ask Bis when he woke up tonight. He was more in tune with the lines than any person I knew. If I got home, that is. I didn’t know if Trent would approve of me taking Ray home with me.

Jenks hovered before us, a weird, lost look on his face. “What happened?” the pixy asked, and I pushed into motion, wanting to get to a TV.

“I’ve no idea, but it can’t be good.”

Ray fussed, threatening to cry as I inexpertly fumbled at the straps to buckle her into the car seat the nice-looking guy in Trent’s garage helped me move into my little Cooper. “Don’t start with me,” I warned her, my unfamiliar tone catching her attention and distracting her. It might have been Jenks making faces at her from the rearview mirror, though, and I backed out of the car, blowing a strand of hair out of my eyes.

It was nearing three, I smelled like horse, and I had a cranky toddler who refused to go down for her nap. And it wasn’t as if I hadn’t tried. Trent’s secretary had gotten me back to Trent’s apartments to wait for him, but that had been four books, two songs, and three hours ago. Watching TV with Jenks had only made being stuck at Trent’s big empty apartments worse. That line hiccup I’d felt wasn’t just out at Trent’s place, but everywhere, the entire United States and off continent, too. The lines were fine now, but the media was scrambling, interviewing specialists and wackos with little signs saying the end was near.

Jenks gave me a thumbs-up from inside the car, and I sighed. Diaper bag, extra food, change of clothes, blanket from her crib, and three stuffed animals she had pointed to when I asked her which ones she wanted. Yep, I had it all. It wasn’t that I didn’t appreciate camping out at Trent’s apartments, watching his big-screen TV and raiding his fridge for fresh fruit and pudding, but I had stuff to do, stuff that I could get done while Ray napped. And boy, did she need to nap.

A sneeze shook me as I shut the door. My brow furrowed. If it followed the emerging pattern, I’d sneeze again in about ten minutes. Al was trying to get a hold of me, and my scrying mirror was across town in the Hollows. I’d tried stepping into the line that bisected Trent’s estate and contacting him that way, but Al hadn’t showed and I hadn’t lingered since the lines felt sour somehow. I hoped it was only the uncomfortable state of the lines that he wanted to discuss, but I had a bad feeling it was more, and my eyes flicked to Ray in her car seat as I got in.