Ever After (The Hollows #11)(108)
Author: Kim Harrison

Frowning, Quen held up the smallest ring. "I can’t believe you managed this," he said quietly, and I was suddenly glad I hadn’t told him how I’d done it. They were evil in a way I’d never considered, and I was going to destroy them right after I took care of Ku’Sox. Tonight.

"You need to leave so I can change," I said as I tugged them out of his grip and set both rings on my dresser next to my perfumes.

Quen walked to my dresser, turning his back on me but not leaving. His neck was stiff and his arms were crossed over his chest. I took a breath to tell him to get out, then decided against it. He probably had something else to say he didn’t want the pixies knowing. Outside were the low rumbles of gargoyles, and not knowing how good their hearing was, I jerked out the pencil that had been propping the window up. It closed with a snap. Quen jumped, but didn’t turn.

"You do know that we likely aren’t going to come back," I said, satisfied that he wouldn’t turn around. "One elf and a badly trained demon won’t be enough."

"I have a duty," he said, and I frowned.

"Sure, make me responsible for Ray losing her father as well as her mother," I said as I got my boots out of the closet and let them clunk to the floor. God, it still hurt. It would for a long time, and my motions to change my clothes grew rough. Quen didn’t move, and I thought of Al’s opinion that Trent would have a better chance of success than Quen. Getting to him might be a problem.

Quen took up the rings, his silence making me uneasy. "If we fail, do you think Trent can kill him?" he asked as he fingered them, and I kicked my jeans off, feeling vulnerable.

"No." I held up my mom’s linen bell-bottoms to me. "It’s not so much that I doubt his abilities, but he is Ku’Sox’s familiar. He’s going to be as effective as spit. You can’t kill a demon. Ask Newt." Or Ceri, or Pierce.

"I can hide your presence from the demons for a short time," Quen said, his back to me. "Perhaps long enough for the ever-after to collapse."

Teeth clenched, I balanced on one foot, then the other as I put my pants on. They were lined in silk, and they felt surprisingly nice. "I’m a demon," I said softly. "If they want me, they summon me. I’m theirs."

"The band of silver you cut off," he started.

"No." I zipped up my pants, swishing back and forth to watch the way they moved. "Thanks for coming out here on such short notice. Apparently I’ve bankrupted both Al and Newt. Ku’Sox has petitioned that Al be confined, which just leaves us unless you want to take the time to break him out of jail."

Quen took a breath, and I made a noise when he threatened to turn around. "They can’t summon you if you wear charmed silver. You could put it on until the ever-after goes and the demons are gone," he said, his neck stiff.

"And then what?" I said, bad tempered. Is he trying to talk me out of this or see how deep my resolve goes? Grabbing the hem of my shirt, I pulled it up and over my head. It was cold in just my chemise, and I tossed the tee to the floor. "It never occurred to you that I don’t want the demons to die out? Maybe I like them, huh? Besides, Ku’Sox is using my line to kill them," I said as I shoved my arms into my top. "I’m partially responsible. You can stay here and watch Nick if you want. Someone needs to."

There was a knock at the door, and I buttoned the vest around me. "Pizza will be here in ten," Ivy said through the door, and then her steps retreated. Ten minutes-a lingering benefit of having been Piscary’s scion. That, and Ivy tipped very well.

Distracted, I finished the buttons. "You can turn around now," I said, sitting on my bed to put on my boots.

Quen turned, rings clinking meditatively in his hands as his eyes traveled over me, taking in my choice of clothes. I couldn’t tell what he was thinking. It had taken me three days in a car to learn Trent’s tells. Quen was a lot harder. "What about Nick?" he asked, his voice flat as the rings shifted from hand to hand.

I stood there, feeling my toes sink into my boots. Shrugging, I took the rings from him and put them in the single vest pocket. "Everything he hears or sees is going right into Ku’Sox’s head. I’m counting on it, which is one of the reasons we’re going to do it tonight. What happens after tomorrow, I’ll deal with tomorrow." Turning to the mirror, I stood beside him, gazing at our reflection and evaluating my new look. I touched my hair, deciding the braid was holding up well enough. "So we good?"

"Just one thing." I turned to him and he tossed his head to the front of the church when the bell gonged. "Don’t eat the pizza."

I froze, as he reached for the doorknob. Taking a breath, I jumped into motion, confused. Don’t eat the pizza? "Quen?" I jerked him to a halt in the hallway. I could hear the pixies in the sanctuary, Jenks berating Nick. "Why not?"

Posture furtive, he winced. "Didn’t your father ever tell you not to eat with the elves?"

"Sure, because . . ." I stopped, my eyes narrowed as Quen’s smile shifted and became not nice at all. "Because you might forget your life as you drink and make merry," I said, not liking this. It was a forget spell, temporary but effective, and Ivy and Jenks would be pissed. "Quen, I’m not going to lie to them."

"Even to save their lives?" Without another word, he strode into the brightly lit sanctuary.

Stupid-ass elves . . . I followed, my stomach churning. This wasn’t right, and I felt torn as I stood at the top of the hall and looked over the sanctuary with Ivy’s piano, my desk, Kisten’s pool table, and the cluster of furniture. Quen was already there among them, looking as if nothing was amiss and he wasn’t about to charm them all into forgetfulness. Nick was still sitting in his chair, watching Ivy at the front door taking the pizza and paying the man. Pixies were everywhere, the colored silk and bright voices filling the air. Jax was sitting on the coffee table with Belle, but it looked as if she was talking, not guarding him. There was a cheer when the church door shut out the cold, and Ivy came back to drop the pizza on the coffee table right in front of Nick. Don’t eat the pizza.

Panicked, I met Ivy’s eyes, and she hesitated, eyebrows high. Nick gagged, and the pixies descended, working together to get the box open before diving in to snitch the steaming pineapple. I felt alone and apart in the hallway, unable to shake the feeling that it was just another Thursday night. Pizza, movie, and shocking the token human by eating tomatoes.

Slice of pizza in hand, Ivy eased closer, the diverse but weirdly complementary scents of vampire and pizza flowing over me. "Remember this," she said, smiling sadly as she looked at the chaos.