Ever After (The Hollows #11)(39)
Author: Kim Harrison

"I made some tea!" I said, trying to match his anger, and Bis’s eyes grew round. "You want to come over here and drink it or not? It’s Earl Grey. I don’t particularly like it, but most men I know like bergamot. I don’t give a flying flip if we do this here or your office, but if I have to bring the cookies over, they’ll taste like burnt amber and I spent two hours on them!" I took a breath, feeling his anger subside. "I need to talk to you," I said softly, my thought mirroring the pleading sound I had. "My kitchen isn’t much, but-"

My words cut off as I felt our connection shift, turning from the light, uppermost thoughts to a more enveloping, place-finding sensation. He was coming over, using the mirror to locate me. My eyes widened at the feeling, and a small noise of I-don’t-know-what slipped from me, part alarm, part surprise, part sexual titillation as he drew a small trace of ley line through me so he’d show up next to me and not in the garden’s ley line.

"He’s coming," I said as I lifted my head, flushing because of that weird noise I’d made.

"Holy sweet seraph," Bis swore as a swirl of red ever-after coalesced in the corner of the room beside the fridge. I didn’t have a formal circle to mark a spot to jump in at. Maybe I should remedy that if I survived the next couple of days.

"Earl Grey?" Dali’s Americana businessman accent drawled as he shook off the last of the black-tainted swirls, showing up in a gray suit and a red power tie instead of a toga-thank God. He looked like a slightly overweight mob boss with his expensive dress shoes, tailored pants, and graying, styled hair.

Uneasy, I stood. Bis shrank back, his red eyes going wide. He held his ground, though, trusting my judgment. "Thank you," I said, wiping my palms on my jeans. Crap, I should have put on a dress, but it was my kitchen, and I’d have felt stupid wearing a gown-again.

Dali’s attention had been running over my kitchen, but at my whisper, it returned to me. "You are far too quick in assuming this is a good thing." He glanced at his watch; then his red, goat-slitted eyes returned to the spell pots and the tea steaming on the table. "You don’t have any wards protecting your spelling area?"

"I don’t need it." I looked away, used to dealing with egotistical, powerful people who got a kick out of my apparent total disregard for the danger they represented. "You want to sit down?" I said, looking at the chair kitty-corner to mine.

My brow furrowed as he stepped forward and eyed the hard-backed chair. "It’s probably more comfortable than it looks," he said as he gingerly sat, crossing his knees and trying to appear dignified, but he looked even more out of place than Trent usually did in my kitchen.

A memory of Trent standing at my counter making cookies with me flashed through my thoughts. That hadn’t really happened. I’d been in a coma of sorts, and his mind had been trying to reach mine, but it had been real enough. So had the kiss that had followed.

Bis’s nervous giggle made Dali frown. This wasn’t going as well as I had hoped, but with the determination I might use on a badly begun blind date, I sat down and began pouring out the tea. "I’m only twenty-seven," I said dryly. "I’ve not had the time to gather much in the way of luxury possessions." It was starting to smell like burnt amber, and I wondered if I should’ve cracked the window and risked attracting the pixies on sentry detail.

Dali’s wandering attention came back to me. "Speaking of time . . ." he said sourly. "You’re rapidly running out of it. Or should I say, Newt is running out of room." His expression became wicked as he took a gingersnap. "You’re going to make a pauper out of the ever-after’s wealthiest demon. Congratulations. You should rent yourself out by the hour."

Not a good start. "I’ve been out to the line," I said, pouring out my tea now. "I have some ideas." Seeing as he wasn’t taking his cup, I handed it to him. "This is Bis, my gargoyle."

Dali took a sip, his eyes almost closing in apparent bliss he tried to hide. "Bis," he said, nodding to him, and the gargoyle flashed an embarrassed black. "You’re younger than I thought. Your lack of skill is excused."

"It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir," Bis said, and I was proud of him.

"I’m sure it is," Dali said lightly, his attention on the cookies. "Are those petits fours?"

Silent, I pushed the plate toward him, and he took another gingersnap.

"Mmmm," he said, eating the star in one bite. "Where is Al? He has put a do-not-disturb note on his mirror. Are you thinking of changing teachers . . . Rachel?" His voice was sly, cruel almost. "Think I can save your life? Think again. You’re not going to bankrupt me as well."

"Good," I said, trying to shift the conversation to where I wanted it. "You can go to your grave a rich demon. Al is busy renewing his aura," I said, and Dali’s eyes widened in interest. "He burned it off while finding Ku’Sox’s signature on that purple sludge currently taking residence in my slightly imbalanced line."

Dali took a third gingersnap, his stubby fingers sure and slow. "Al’s findings cannot be used in court," he said, then bit the cookie in half. "He has too much to lose and isn’t a reliable witness. I doubt you can convince anyone else to confirm it if in the doing he burns his aura off."

"I know that," I said, letting my irritation show. "That’s why you’re here. I want to talk to you about the legality of Ku’Sox abducting Ceri. The paperwork hasn’t been filed, but she’s a freed familiar. Ku’Sox is using her as leverage, and I want her and Lucy back."

His expression dry, Dali took another gingersnap. "Ku’Sox didn’t abduct Ceri. He abducted Lucy. Ceri volunteered to come with her. When the cookies are gone, so am I."

"What!" I exclaimed, falling back in my chair in shock. I glanced at Bis, then back to Dali. My chest seemed to cave in as hope left me. It sounded exactly like something she’d do. Ceri wasn’t afraid of demons. She was afraid of being helpless before them, and with her soul back, she was not. "But Lucy is my godchild!" I said, scrambling. "Ku’Sox and I have an agreement that he leave me and mine alone. Lucy is mine."

"File the paperwork for breach of contract, and I’ll see what I can do," Dali said. It was like that, then.

"Ku’Sox is a touch . . . erratic. Newt and I are watching him." Dali’s eyes rose from the plate of cookies. "We’ve known for some time that he was up to something. Hiding his plans from everyone else is the only thing postponing your death."

I thought about Newt’s carefully worded question, becoming more frustrated. "Then why are you letting him get away with it?" I said, aghast. "You know I didn’t cause that line to start sucking away ever-after that fast. Why are you picking on me? Ku’Sox did it!"