Читать книгу The Hollows Series Books 1-4 - Kim Harrison, Ким Харрисон - Страница 17

The pretty woman sitting across from me on the bus stood to get off. She paused, standing too close to me for comfort, and I looked up from Ivy’s book. “Table 6.1,” she said as I met her gaze. “It’s all you need to know.” Her eyes closed, and she shuddered as if in pleasure.

Embarrassed, I thumbed to the back. “Jiminy Cricket,” I whispered. It was a table of accessories and suggested uses. My face warmed. I wasn’t a prude, but some of it … and with a vampire? Maybe with a witch. If he was drop-dead gorgeous. Without the blood. Maybe.

I jerked as she crouched in the aisle. Leaning far too close, she dropped a black business card into the open book. “In case you want a second,” she whispered, smiling with a quick kinship I didn’t understand. “Newbies shine like stars, bringing out the best in them. I don’t mind playing second fiddle to your first night. And I could help you … afterward. Sometimes they forget.” A flash of fear crossed her, quick but very real.

Jaw hanging, I could say nothing as she stood and walked away and down the stairs.

Jenks flitted close, and I snapped the book shut. “Rache,” he said as he landed on my earring. “Whatcha reading? You’ve had your nose in it since we got on the bus.”

“Nothing,” I said, feeling my pulse hammer. “That woman. She was human, right?”

“The one talking to you? Yeah. By the smell of it, she’s a vamp flunky. Why?”

“No reason,” I said as I shoved the book to the bottom of my bag. I was never reading this thing in public again. Fortunately, my stop was next. Ignoring Jenks’s nonstop inquisition, I strode into the mall’s food court. My long coat flapped about my ankles as I immersed myself in the hustle of predawn Sunday shopping. I invoked my old lady disguise in the bathroom, hoping to throw off anyone who might have recognized me. Still, I thought it prudent to lose myself in a crowd before I headed to the I.S.: kill some time, gather my courage, pick up a hat to replace the one of Ivy’s I’d lost today—buy some soap to cover any lingering smell of her on me.

I strode past an amulet outlet without my usual, wistful hesitation. I could make anything I wanted, and if someone was looking for me, that’s where they would watch. But no one would expect me to buy a pair of boots, I thought, my steps slowing as I passed a window. The leather curtains and dim lights said more clearly than the name of the shop that it catered to vamps.

What the heck? I thought. I live with a vamp. The sales associate couldn’t be any worse than Ivy. I was savvy enough to buy something without leaving any blood behind. So, ignoring Jenks’s complaints, I went in. My thoughts flicked from Table 6.1 to the flirtatious, handsome clerk who had warned the other salesmen off after taking a peek at me through a pair of wood-rimmed glasses. His name tag said VALENTINE, and I ate up his attention with a spoon as he helped me choose a good pair of boots, ooohing over my silk stockings and caressing my feet with his strong, cool fingers. Jenks waited in the hall in a potted plant, sullen and bad-tempered.

God help me, but Valentine was pretty. It had to be in the vamp job description, like wearing black and knowing how to flirt without triggering any of my proximity alarms. It didn’t hurt to look, right? I could look and still not join the club, yes?

But as I walked out in my new, too expensive boots, I wondered at my sudden curiosity. Ivy had as much as admitted to me that she was driven by smell. Perhaps they all put out pheromones to subliminally soothe and lure the unsuspecting. It would make it far easier to seduce their prey. I had thoroughly enjoyed myself with Valentine, as relaxed as if he had been an old friend, letting him take teasing liberties with his hands and words that I normally wouldn’t. Shaking the uncomfortable thought away, I continued my shopping.

I had to stop at the Big Cherry for some pizza sauce. Humans would boycott any store that sold tomatoes—even though the T-4 Angel variety was long extinct—so the only place you could get them was a specialty shop where it wouldn’t matter if half the world’s population refused to cross your threshold.

It was nerves that made me stop at the sweet shop. Everyone knows chocolate soothes the jitters; I think they did a study on it. And for five glorious minutes, Jenks stopped talking while he ate the caramel I bought him.

Stopping at The Bath and Body was a must—I wouldn’t use Ivy’s shampoo and soap anymore. And that led me to a scent shop. With Jenks’s grudging help, I picked out a new perfume that helped hide Ivy’s lingering scent. Lavender was the only thing that came close. Jenks said I stank like an explosion in a flower factory. I didn’t especially like it, either, but if it kept me from triggering Ivy’s instincts, I’d drink it, much less simply bathe in it.

Two hours before sunup I was back on the street and headed for the records vault. My new boots were deliciously quiet, seeming to float me above the pavement. Valentine had been right. I turned onto the deserted street with no hesitation. My old lady spell was still working—which might account for the odd looks in the leather shop—but if no one saw me, all the better.

The I.S. chose their buildings carefully. Nearly all of the offices on this street kept to a human clock and had been closed since Friday night. Traffic hummed two streets away, but here it was quiet. I glanced behind me as I slipped into the alley between the records building and the adjacent insurance tower. My heart pounded as I passed the fire door where I had nearly been tagged. I wouldn’t bother trying to get in that way. “See a drainpipe, Jenks?” I asked.

“I’ll check around,” he said, flitting ahead to do a little reconnaissance.

I followed at a slower pace, angling for the faint tapping of metal that I heard now. Thoroughly enjoying the rush of adrenaline, I slid between a truck-sized trashcan and a pallet of cardboard. A smile edged over me as I spotted Jenks sitting on the curve of a downspout, tapping it with his boot heels. “Thanks, Jenks,” I said, taking off my bag and setting it on the dew-damp cement.

“No problem.” He flitted up to sit on the edge of a Dumpster. “For the love of Tink,” he moaned, holding his nose. “You know what’s in here?” I flicked a glance at him. Encouraged, he said, “Three-day-old lasagna, five varieties of yogurt cups, burnt popcorn …” He hesitated, his eyes closing as he sniffed. “… south of the border style, a million candy wrappers, and someone has an almost unholy need for superchunk burritos.”

“Jenks? Shut up.” The soft hiss of wheels on pavement warned me into immobility, but even the best night vision would have a difficult time spotting me back there. The alley stunk so bad, I didn’t have to worry about Weres. Even so, I waited until the street was quiet before I dug in my bag for a detection spell and finger stick. The sharp jab of it made me jump. I squeezed the required three drops onto the amulet. They soaked in immediately, and the wooden disk glowed a faint green. I let out a breath I hadn’t known I had been holding. No sentient creature but Jenks was within a hundred feet of me—and I had my doubts about Jenks. It was safe enough to spell myself into a mouse.

“Here, watch this and tell me if it turns red,” I told Jenks as I balanced the disk beside him on the rim of the Dumpster.

“Why?”

“Just do it!” I whispered. Sitting on a bundle of cardboard, I unlaced my new boots, took off my socks, and set a bare foot on the cement. It was cold and damp from last night’s rain, and a small sound of disgust slipped from me. I shot a quick glance to the end of the alley, then arranged my boots out of sight behind a bin of shredded paper with my winter coat. Feeling like a Brimstone addict, I crouched in the gutter and pulled out my vial of brew. “Way to go, Rache,” I whispered as I remembered I hadn’t set up my dissolution bowl yet.

I was confident Ivy would know what to do if I showed up as a mouse, but she’d never let me live it down. The saltwater glugged nosily into the bowl, and I tucked the empty jug away. The screw top to the vial went plinking into the Dumpster, and I winced as I massaged another three drops of blood out of my throbbing finger. But my discomfort paled as my blood hit the liquid and the warm meadow fragrance arose.

My stomach clenched as I mixed the vial by hitting the side with a series of gentle thwacks. Nervous, I wiped a hand on my jeans and glanced at Jenks. Making a spell is easy. It’s trusting you did it right that’s hard. When it came down to it, courage was the only thing separating a witch from a warlock. I am a witch, I told myself, my feet going cold. I did this right. I will be a mouse, and I will be able to turn back with a dip in saltwater.

“Promise you won’t tell Ivy if this doesn’t work?” I asked Jenks, and he grinned, roguishly tugging his cap lower over his eyes.

“Whatcha going to give me?”

“I won’t lace your stump with ant killer.”

He sighed. “Just do it,” he encouraged. “I’d like to get home before the sun goes nova. Pixies sleep at night, you know.”

I licked my lips, too anxious to come up with a retort. I had never transformed before. I’d taken the classes, but tuition didn’t cover the cost to buy a professional-grade transformation spell, and liability insurance hadn’t allowed us students to sample our own brew. Liability insurance. You gotta love it.

My fingers tightened on the vial and my pulse hammered. This was going to really hurt.

In a sudden rush, I closed my eyes and downed it. It was bitter, and I swallowed it in one gulp, trying not to think of the three mouse hairs. Yuck.

My stomach cramped and I bent double. I gasped as I lost my balance. The cold cement rushed up, and I put a hand out to stop my fall. It was black and furry. It’s working! I thought in both delight and fright. This wasn’t so bad.

Then a sharp pain ripped through my spine. Like blue flame it ran from my skull to my backbone. I cried out, panicking as a guttural shriek tore my ears. Hot ice ran through my veins.

I convulsed, agony taking my breath from me. Terror struck me as my vision went black. Blind, I reached out, hearing a terrifying scrabbling. “No!” I shrieked. The pain swelled, driving everything from me, swallowing me up.