Ким Харрисон - The Outlaw Demon Wails

"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."

It was quiet now, just the small agitated ticks of Jenks tapping his foot against Ceri's porcelain teacup to mar the stillness. I felt bad about screwing up everyone's lives, but in a few hours I'd either be dead or a permanent fixture in the ever-after. Settling this with a happy ending was still a possibility, but the odds were looking really slim. I was hoping for it of course, but honestly, what were the chances?

Glenn had left to get my mother after I'd kicked everyone out of the bathroom to take a shower, so it was just the four of us now, the mood tense and the feeling of harsh words yet unsaid heavy in the air. God, I was tired. The cup of coffee in my grip wasn't helping at all. A bowl of baked cheese crackers was within my reach, and I put one in my mouth. The sharp cheddar flavor bit at the sides of my mouth, and I slowly chewed. Grabbing a handful, I ate them one by one, feeling guilty that I was clean and eating cheese crackers when Trent was in a cell.

Seeing me moving, Jenks took to the air to try again. "Why?" he said belligerently, a thin trace of red dust spilling from him to pool on the table as he landed in his best Peter Pan pose. "Why do you give a fairy's hairy ass about what happens to Trent?"

I rubbed my finger over Ivy's dented signature, feeling the past. She had been innocent once. So had I. So Trent can tell me what the hell his dad did to me? Because I need him to say that I'm not a demon? So he can find a way to reverse it? "Because if I don't," I said softly, "everyone will think that I bought my freedom with his life." Jenks snorted, and my blood pressure rose. "Because I promised I'd get him home," I said more forcefully. "I'm not going to let him rot there."

"Rachel…," Jenks cajoled.

From her computer, Ivy glowered at him. "She promised to get him home if he paid for her way there and back. I don't like it any more than you do, but you're going to shut up and listen. If we can find a way, we'll do it."

"But he didn't get her home," Jenks protested. "She did that herself. And who cares if he rots in the ever-after?"

Ivy stiffened, and Ceri silently watched, evaluating.

"I care," I said, pushing the crackers away and trying to get the cheese out of my teeth.

"Yeah, but Rache—"

"He's not home!" I shouted, ticked. "That was the deal!"

Jenks's feet hit the table, and he turned his back on me. Wings still, he bowed his head.

Ceri eased into the chair beside me and set an open spell book on the table. There was a pair of glasses perched on her nose and a pencil between her teeth. The pixies had braided her hair while I had cried in the shower, and she looked decidedly studious. She had reddened when I noticed her new glasses, but I hadn't said anything. I think she was proud that she was aging again and needed them.

Frankly, I was surprised Ivy was siding with me. I'd like to think that it was because she considered holding to one's word important, or because she thought Trent was worth going back for on his own merits, but the truth was Trent's absence would cause big problems in Cincy's underground power balance. Rynn Cormel flexing his muscles and reasserting control was something she wasn't looking forward to. It's harder to fall in love with a man when he's killing people.

Glancing up, I blinked at the odd figure Ceri was idly tracing over and over on the yellow legal pad she had on the open spell book. I was sure the glyph was from a demon curse; there was a faint haze of black emanating from it. I caught her gaze, and she winced, drawing a circle around it to contain whatever force she had drawn into existence before crumpling the paper up, dropping it into her empty teacup, and setting fire to it with a ley line charm.

Jenks sputtered at the black flame, but Ivy stopped his budding harangue with a hissed comment I didn't quite catch.

"What if I learn how to jump the lines?" I said, searching for the first hints of a plan. "If I could get in undetected, that would be half the battle. Maybe more. Simple snag and drag." It wasn't, but I could build on the idea.

Ceri took the end of her pencil and crushed even the ash to dust. "Learn how to trip the lines before sunrise? No. I'm sorry, Rachel. It takes decades."

Ivy leaned past her cracked monitor. "Why sunrise?"

The pretty elf 's shoulders drooped. "That's when the lines will close to summoning travel and they will make a decision. Right now, Trent's probably still in holding, but as soon as they're sure no one will be pulled out of negotiations, he will be sold."

Sold. It was an ugly word, and I felt my face twist. Seeing it, Ceri shrugged. "Anything you want to do, you need to do before someone buys him, or you will be dealing with a specific demon, not a committee. Committees are difficult, but a single demon is tenacious where a committee will only want to make sure they all get something."

This was wrong. Really wrong, and I sighed when Jenks swore at Ivy, dramatically crossed his chest as if making a promise, then flew to my cracker bowl.

"Trent doesn't have a great deal of value as a familiar," Ceri was saying, her eyes down in what looked like embarrassment, "but it's not often that a potential familiar stumbles into the ever-after without a preexisting claim by another demon. There are a lot of demons who will pay, not caring that there will be a long downtime to bring him up to usefulness. That's what Al does to make his bread and butter."