Читать книгу Black Magic Sanction - Kim Harrison, Ким Харрисон - Страница 13

There was no pain as my body dissolved into a thought and that thought was yanked across the continent. I wanted to go, and I’d already accepted the smut on my soul for the imbalance I was causing. Actually, by taking the smut on freely, the feeling of disconnection seemed to be muffled. Or perhaps if you break the rules too many times, you start to build up scar tissue. Or maybe it was because I’d slipped from the fractured West Coast lines to the solid, warm ley lines of my birthplace. It could have been simply that the memory of Bis and his tail wrapped around my neck helped to create a feeling of comfort. But whatever it was, the usual tearing apart of soul and mind almost felt good. Like stretching. Which kind of worried me.

The faint outlines of my kitchen echoed in my memory before they became real, and the woody scent of herbs and copper cleaner tickled my nose. It was more than a little relief—it would be just my luck that a third party summoned me and I ended up in someone else’s circle dressed in this hideous orange outfit with fashionable white canvas pull-on shoes.

My will seemed to stretch forward and yank me into existence. With a jolt, everything happened at once, and my aura—which had been holding me together while I existed only as a thought in the ley lines—rose through the memory of myself to build a body. My clothes, bruises, cuffs, everything, down to the egg in my hair, would come through intact. You couldn’t fool the demon archive and show up clean, rested, and in a pair of designer boots. I’d tried. The charmed silver, though, would be gone. Small favors.

I took a breath, and I suddenly had lungs. Stumbling, I stayed upright as I popped into existence between the center counter and the sink. The kitchen was dim with early sunlight, shocking since it was dark where I’d been seconds ago. Ivy and Jenks were waiting, worried and tense. Jenks was flying, and all I could see wrong with Ivy was a welt on her forehead.

Immediately the shimmer of smut-covered ever-after around me dropped. It was Ceri, then, who had summoned me. “Thank God,” I said, leaning back against the center counter, my head bowed as I mumbled, “Thank you, Ceri. I owe you big.” Bis wasn’t here, swimming back to Pierce for the jump home, I guess.

Ivy’s face was pale as she came close, taking in my tired, filthy state. “What did they do to you?” she said as she fumbled at her key chain for one of her handcuff keys. The steel rings came off, hitting the counter with a loud clatter, and I felt loved.

“Tink’s little red panties, Rache,” Jenks swore, pinching his nose shut as he hovered over them. “You reek like a fairy’s outhouse! Ivy, get her a pain amulet, will you? And maybe one to make her not stink? Good God, how did you get so stinky? You were only gone a day!”

I smiled, glad to be home. But my expression froze when I turned to thank Ceri again. Ceri hadn’t summoned me home. It was Nick.

“You putrid pile of troll crap!” I jumped for him, hands grasping. My knees gave way and I slipped, catching myself on the edge of the counter and gasping at the sudden pain. Jenks darted into the air, and Ivy reached for me, concerned.

Nick jumped to his feet. His face was tight and angry, but that was nothing next to my outrage, and I grunted when Ivy pulled me upright and I pushed her away.

“Rache, wait!” Jenks exclaimed, silver sparkles falling from him. “He’s here so Jax can make peace with Matalina. He summoned you back. We couldn’t find Keasley, and Trent won’t let anything get through to Ceri!”

“Bull!” I pointed at Nick, standing sullenly beside the archway to the hall with his too-long hair and faded jeans. “He summoned me, then left me to fight my way out alone!”

Ivy’s eyes flashed a full, dangerous black, and Jenks’s wings hit an unusually high pitch.

“He did what?”

Nick backed into the hall, hands raised. A streak of pixy dust darting in turned into Jax. The renegade pixy had drawn the entire pixy clan with him, and I froze, stunned by the flitting silk and high-pitched voices as Matalina hovered over it all like a distressed angel.

“I didn’t have a choice,” Nick was saying over their noise. “Rachel, I owed them, thanks to you running off with the focus. I told you how to get out. And I flew back here to get you home! Will you listen to me? I’m trying to help!”

“Trying to help?” Ivy strode across the kitchen, pixies darting out of her way in swirls of color. Nick made a dash for the sanctuary, but she was faster. Like a cat after a bat, she snagged him, her hand gripping him under his throat as she threw him across the kitchen to slam into my mom’s old fridge. He started to slip down, and she had him again, lifting him up and holding him there while he tried to make his lungs work. Atop the fridge, the Brimstone cookie jar wobbled and would have fallen off if not for the pixies working as a team to balance it.

“You summoned Rachel to San Francisco?” she said, showing her sharp canines. “She was driving. You could have killed us all!”

Jenks hovered beside his face, his son between his sword and the man’s eye. “You were trying to help? Help yourself, maybe!”

God, I have good friends. Hurting, I staggered around the counter to the big farm table shoved against the interior wall, all but falling into my hard-backed chair and nearly knocking an express mail box onto the floor. It was from my mom, her scrawl unmistakable. I was too tired to guess what she’d sent me this time, and I gingerly felt the backs of my knees.

Nick’s face was going red from a lack of circulation, and the notches in his ears gained in the rat fights stood out like bright flags. “Ivy, let him go before he files a lawsuit,” I said casually. That she was slowly choking the life from him was only mildly worrisome. I’d seen her vamp out before, and this was nothing, even if she had missed slaking her hunger this weekend. If she started looking sexy and dropping innuendos, I’d be worried. This was simply anger, and she likely wouldn’t tear his throat out for that.

“Why? He can’t go to the I.S.” Ivy leaned her face next to his, tilting her head and inhaling a line along his neck. A tingling rose through me, and Nick closed his eyes, shuddering. “He’s taken himself off the grid,” she whispered. “Made himself into a cookie by the side of the road. He can’t complain or be jailed for his own crimes. And he wouldn’t want that,” she crooned. “Would you, little Nicky? Being a blood toy would be better than jail.”

Okay, maybe I was wrong. Concerned, I levered myself to a stand. “Ivy—”

“Let her kill him,” Jenks was saying over the sound of his kids. “We’ve got the graveyard right out back. Humans are like Jell-O. There’s always room for one more.”

“I didn’t have to come here,” Nick gasped, and Ivy tightened her grip until he gagged. “The coven didn’t give me a choice! They yanked me across state lines and threatened to give me to the FIB. I had to tell them something. They were going to put me away!”

“Better me than you, huh?” I leaned heavily on the table, tired.

“I knew you’d escape,” Nick said, spittle at the corners of his mouth. “You’ve got a foolproof get-out-of-jail-free card. Rachel, you took a demon’s name? Why?”

My breath caught at the accusation in his rasping voice, and my anger dulled to shame. I had a demon’s name. He’d used it twice to summon me. “Let him go.”

Jenks spun in the air to me. “Rache …”

“Let him go!” I exclaimed, and Ivy took her fingers from around Nick’s throat. The man fell into a tangle against the fridge, hand over his neck and coughing. Head down, he mumbled to Jax, hovering by his face, his words indistinct. The imprint of Ivy’s fingers showed red and clear. Ivy turned away, shaking as she worked to bring herself down. Great. This was exactly what I needed. A jacked-up, hungry vampire and a traitorous ex-boyfriend in the same room.

Jenks wasn’t happy, and with an earsplitting whistle, he chased his family out—all but a defiant Jax and a heartbroken Matalina, now perched on the fridge. Her face was riven with tears. Jax’s homecoming had turned ugly.

Moving with that vampiric smoothness that gave me the willies, Ivy yanked my charm cupboard open and plucked an invoked amulet from my cache. Her eyes were still dangerously black as she strode across the kitchen and extended it. My shoulders eased as the smooth disk of redwood met my fingers. It was one of my own, and the relief from the pain was a blessing.

I’d been an earth witch long before I started dabbling in ley-line magic, and though the amulet didn’t completely block the pain, it helped. Dropping the cord around my neck, I snugged the disk under the orange jumpsuit where it could touch my skin. A puff of nasty air came up and I winced. Jenks wasn’t kidding. I needed a shower. “Thanks,” I said, and Ivy nodded, still trying to gain control over her instincts. Me being stinky probably helped.

“I had to give them something,” Nick said loudly as he pulled himself off the floor, his long pianist’s—no, thief’s—hands on his throat and his voice rough. “I’m sorry for summoning you to San Francisco, and I left so they wouldn’t force me to do it again. I risked airport security to get here in time to summon you home, if that means anything to you.”

“Yeah? You kept their money, I bet,” I said bitingly, and his eyes narrowed.

“I have to eat.” Shame, perhaps, made his voice harsh, but I doubted it. “Besides, I didn’t think it would be you who showed up that first time. I thought it would be Al and that he would tear them and me apart. End everything.”

His words hit me hard, and I looked away, sinking back down into my chair.

“You took Al’s name? Rachel, why?” he asked, his voice holding an unexpected hurt. “I thought you were smarter than that. I thought you were the good one.”

I couldn’t look up, unable to speak. I was the good one. Wasn’t I?

“Get him out of here,” Jenks said loudly. “Both of them.”

Jax’s wings clattered, and Matalina protested, but a pop of displaced air in the hallway struck me like a slap. Al? I thought with a pulse of fear-based adrenaline as I looked. But it wasn’t Al. It was Pierce and Bis. Duh. The sun was up.

The witch caught his balance, lurching to snag his hat as it fell off. “We’re back!” Bis shouted, whirling, eyes wide as he landed beside Matalina on the fridge, making her crouch at the sudden wind. He was too big to fly in the house, and as soon as his feet touched the appliance, his wings folded and his eyes blinked shut, the teenage gargoyle going somnolent in the sudden light. As an adult, he’d be able to stay awake during the daylight hours, but as it was, he fell asleep in an instant. Probably just as well. The next few minutes were going to be ugly.

“Who the hell are you?” Nick rasped, ignored.

Sometime between my truncated lesson and now, Pierce had found a trendy pair of black pants and a maroon shirt. His new, colorfully patterned vest looked like it could be the upholstery of an antique chair, but somehow it worked. Everything fit him perfectly, right down to the gold fob running to a hidden pocket watch, and I wondered if the appearance-conscious demon had sent him like this or if Pierce had learned to dress himself.

Pierce watched me from under his wavy black bangs, trying to guess my mood as his shoes scuffed on a stray bit of salt. His eyes were fixed on mine, and I felt a ping of something, which I quickly squashed. I didn’t have time for a relationship, and not with a self-oriented, black-magic-using, intelligent … demon killer wannabe who thought I needed babysitting.

“Rachel,” Pierce said, shoes grinding on the salt as he came forward after a nod to Ivy and Jenks, and a flash of anger at Nick. His smoothly shaven face was creased with worry, and when he took my hands, I pulled away. Had they really made Al send him to watch me?

“Is she all together? Is she all right?” he asked Ivy, unsure at my reaction.

Ivy nodded, her eyes edging toward normal, standing with her arms across her middle as if holding back her instincts. “As much as she ever is,” she said sourly.

“I’m of the mind that she’s not.” Pierce tried again for my hands, keeping them this time. “I’ve a powerful notion to fix their flint. Did they … Rachel, your wrists,” he said, aghast as he turned them over. “They shackled you?” he asked, voice shaking in outrage.

I took a breath, but my harsh words hesitated. He’d crossed a continent to find me. Resolute, I shoved the feeling away. “Al sent you?” I asked, and he knelt to put us on eye level. “Pierce, tell me this is a joke and that Al is going to show up come sundown and drag you back.”

Pierce smiled, gaze flicking to Ivy and Jenks. “Newt told the collective that Al nearly let you kill yourself, and that I kept you alive until she could save you.”

“Newt?” Jenks shrilled, coming close. “You didn’t say anything about Newt!”

“You?” I echoed, and Nick scowled. “You’re the one who got me in trouble!”

Pierce, though, was still grinning. “The way she remembers it, I saved you. She made an almighty wrath, convincing them that you’re too accident-prone to survive without supervision.”

“I could have told them that,” Jenks smart-mouthed, and Ivy waved at him to be quiet.

“Since Al can’t abide here come sunup,” Pierce continued, “it was either send me or give you to Newt.”

“I thought you said you were the only familiar cheap enough that Al could afford,” Jenks chimed in, and Pierce’s lips twitched in the beginnings of a frown. Ivy, too, didn’t look pleased.

“Nice,” I said, yanking my hands from his. “You get yourself out of the ever-after, but I’m the one who looks like an idiot. Thanks a hell of a lot.”

But instead of reacting in kind, Pierce’s entire demeanor shifted to one of concern. “You’re shivering,” he said, glancing at Nick as if it was his fault. “A body would suspect someone would have drawn you a warm bath by now.”

Suddenly I felt a hundred times filthier, but then my eyes widened at my sudden urge to sneeze. Shit, not again, I thought when it ripped through me to clear out my lungs and send a stab of pain through my knees. But it was different. There was no accompanying pull. It was just Al trying to contact me, and I looked at Pierce sourly. Al had sent Pierce to watch me, eh? Yeah. We’d just see about that.

“Tink’s a Disney whore!” Jenks swore, darting down to the center counter and the open bookshelf under it. “Ivy, quick! Get her calling mirror out. It’s Al.”

“Rachel, no!” Nick exclaimed, eyes wide as he realized what was going on.

Jenks flew up, his sword bared to make Jax dart back. “Shut the hell up!” he shouted in frustration. “Open your mouth again, and I’ll jam a spider’s nest in your ear so they can eat that crap you have for brains! You don’t know shit. You don’t know shit!”

“Al will kill you, Rachel!” Nick insisted as Ivy silently moved to get the mirror.

“It’s a little late to be afraid of Al, Nick,” I muttered when Ivy slid the smooth, plate-size scrying mirror onto my lap and backed up, wiping her fingers nervously on her pants. She didn’t like my magic—didn’t understand it—even as she respected it. My knees hurt under the mirror’s weight, even with the pain amulet. “What they didn’t say was that I am his student,” I said bitterly as I put my hand on the mirror in the cave of the pentagram. “I’m not saying I know what I’m doing, but I know who I can trust. And you’re not on the list, so shut up! I want to talk to Al. See what’s going on.” Get my summoning name back. I am not going to do this again.

I glanced at Pierce as I said the last, seeing no fear, just a confident satisfaction. I knew I should be glad he was free of Al, but it hinged on my not being able to take care of myself. Sighing, I looked at my swollen knees and my orange jumpsuit. Maybe they were right.

“I’d be of a mind not to tell Al you were in prison,” Pierce said as he leaned into the wall and crossed his arms. He was smug, and I didn’t like it.

“Why?” I said, immediately wanting to do the exact opposite. “You afraid it might make you look bad?”

Pierce shifted his weight to one foot and balanced his free foot on a toe. “If you get into too much trouble, Newt might revoke your reality privileges, me here or not.”

“Oh, and you’d love that, wouldn’t you,” Jenks exclaimed, wings humming.

I sneezed again as the cool weight of the scrying mirror sank into me. Tell Al about Alcatraz to get my name back and risk being yanked to the ever-after forever, or stay silent and risk the coven summoning me again and giving me a lobotomy No contest. Pierce might know his magic, but I knew Al, and Al wouldn’t tell Newt anything.

The onetime ghost sent his eyebrows high when I simpered at him, clearly not knowing where my thoughts lay. Feeling better, I looked at the elaborate glyph reflecting the world back to me with the rich hue of wine. The symbols I’d etched on it glittered like blood diamonds. Much as I hated to admit it, the thing was beautiful. It let me talk to demons, and I thought it was beautiful. I am so screwed.

Resigned, I reached out a thought and touched it to the small ley line that ran through the churchyard. I kept my attention narrow, allowing only the barest slip of energy into me, not wanting Al to get more than a hint of my emotions. The connection completed, I focused on Al, shivering when his domineering, alien presence seemed to melt into me, expanding both our awarenesses in a curious feeling of lofty enlightenment. I couldn’t read his mind, and he couldn’t see into mine, but focused thoughts could be exchanged. That, and emotion.

“Why is Pierce here?” I said aloud so that Ivy could hear at least half the conversation.

Not my idea, Al started, and I could almost see his white-gloved hands clench into fists. That’s why I called. That little runt of a witch is dangerous. He manipulated Newt like a damned demon suitor. It was either send him or give you to her. Which would you prefer?

It had been mocking, and taken aback, I glanced at the ring of faces watching me. That Al wasn’t happy either somehow made me feel better. “So take him back. I won’t tell,” I said, and Al snorted even as Pierce huffed indignantly.

Maybe if you could go one week without becoming shunned or put under a death threat you might be considered smart enough to be on your own, the demon muttered. But no-o-o-o-o, you had to try it on your own. I told you to wait.

“Hey! I’m not the one trying to put Krakatoa into my soul!” I said loudly, face warm.

Not Krakatoa, Krathion. And I won’t take the blame for you prematurely invoking a curse when I told you to wait for me! he said, and I was silent, fuming. I’m trying to downplay the situation, Al thought, his emotions slowing. In the meantime, if he teaches you one thing, one thing, Rachel, you’ll be wearing his guts as hair bands. Got it?

I glanced at Pierce, and he blinked at my sudden interest. Pierce could teach me something? “Sure …,” I said, starting to see the possibilities. If I could learn how to jump the lines, no one would have to watch me at all.

Rachel? Al growled, not detecting any sincerity in my thoughts.

“Got it,” I reaffirmed, then took a deep breath. “Hey, along those lines, I need my original summoning name back. Like now.”

From my peripheral sight, Nick blinked, almost mirroring the shocked emotion I felt from Al. Now? Al thought, and I felt him start to sever the connection. You want to play in the collective when everyone is watching? Damn my dame, you do need a babysitter, Rachel. No.

“Al, wait!” I shouted, pressing my hand harder into the glass until it felt like I’d made a soft indent in the mirror. “I just spent a day in Alcatraz after being summoned into a closed trial called by the coven of moral and ethical standards.” I didn’t look up, but I heard Pierce sigh because I hadn’t listened to his advice. “They weren’t after you, they were after me,” I added.

Al laughed, and I looked past my stringy hair to Nick. He was staring at me, long face aghast. Across the kitchen, Pierce held himself still, eyes dark from behind his mop of loose curls and his hat back on his head. Jenks faced me from the counter, spilling a red dust that puddled on the floor, and Ivy stood almost in the hallway, her black eyes fully dilated.

Nice try. But no one in that pantywaist coven knows my name, Al was thinking. And if they did, they wouldn’t summon me, holier-than-thou chicken squirts. Stay out of trouble, Rachel, and this will all blow over. Two decades at the most.

Two decades! I thought, then said, “That’s what I’m saying. They didn’t summon you, they summoned me! They used your name, knowing I would be the one to show up! They paid someone to summon me into a six-pointed star. I barely got out because they thought I was bound to demon law, but that’s not going to work a second time. They know I can invoke demon magic, and they’re going to give me a lobotomy and take my ovaries as soon as they find the next chump who knows your name!”

Who summoned you? Al said suddenly, icy calm pouring from him, and I looked at Nick, my mouth shutting. Tell me who summoned you with my name. Tell me, itchy witch, and I’ll not only see that you learn how to jump the lines, but how to survive that runt of yours.

I closed my mind to Al and pulled my hand from the glass. The sudden disconnection jolted through me, and I started. Feeling haunted, I first looked at Ivy, then Pierce, then Jenks, who was white faced and spilling a sickly green dust. Last, I looked at Nick, standing behind that chair both angry and frightened. Jax was on his shoulder with his wings folded submissively. If Al knew Nick had summoned me, the demon would actively work to take him out—close the hole of information rather than trade our names back as we had agreed.

Ivy uncrossed her arms, glancing at Nick and then back to me. “What did he want?”

I held Nick’s attention, shivering as the adrenaline washed out and the last twenty hours fell heavy on me. “Just Nick.”