Ever After (The Hollows #11)(74)
Author: Kim Harrison

Ku’Sox stiffened, his shoulders twisting as if something had struck his back. His eyes were alight, and his hands in fists. "Finish it. Free me!"

I licked my lips, my heart pounding. I couldn’t look at Trent. He had taught this curse to me, learned it from Ku’Sox. It could not be untwisted, but it could be given away or modified. "I curse you, Ku’Sox Sha-Ku’ru, to be free of restraint, that you may freely travel between reality and the ever-after at your will for as long as you leave me and mine alone!"

The demon’s breath sucked in, and he leaned forward, grimacing at the added restraint.

"That means you stay out of my church, you bastard," I said, relishing his anger. "You break it, and you’ll find out how the Goddess rewards liars," I barked at him, heart pounding when a sleepy-eyed presence seemed to swirl through me, laughing languorously before dulling back to slumber. Crap on toast, elven magic was slippery stuff, and I gave a little jump to shift Lucy to a more comfortable position and hide my shudder.

Ku’Sox lifted his chin as if to denounce me. But when he nodded with very bad grace, I sealed the curse. "Facilis descensus Tartarus."

The curse was in Latin, but I knew it was elven magic by the tiny laugh of wicked delight echoing in my mind. It hadn’t come from the collective, and Ku’Sox shuddered as the wild magic slipped reluctantly from me and onto him, the last bit twanging from my outstretched hand. My headache came back, pounding, and before I dropped the line, I felt the souls of the demons in the collective withdraw. They were somber and still, unusual for the usually vocal and self-assured demons. They’d agreed to this, but it had the transparent feeling of ambiguity.

Ku’Sox breathed slowly, and in the corner, Nick hunched into a small shadow of fear. "It will do," Ku’Sox said, and then his eyes became slate gray. "Leave. You smell like baby shit."

Lucy was starting to fidget, and I glanced at Trent. He looked crushed and beaten. "I told you I wanted a jump home. Al can’t do it," I said, deciding he would refuse unless I gave him a reason. "He burned himself at the bottom of your purple sludge."

Ku’Sox looked me up and down in surprise. "And he got out? How?"

He wasn’t wearing the smile I expected, and I patted Lucy, rocking like I’d seen parents in the grocery store line do. "Through his wedding rings." Ku’Sox’s eyes went wide in amazement, and I shook my head, backing up. "Send us home," I demanded. "Now."

Trent’s eyes closed, and I saw his lips move in a silent "Thank you," but if he was thanking me or the Goddess he didn’t believe in, I didn’t know.

"Go," Ku’Sox said curtly, and I tensed, slapping a bubble of thought around Lucy and myself as I felt his broken, slimy presence enfold us and push us from his reality. For a moment, I thought he might leave us halfway there and I’d have to chance shifting my aura myself, but then the stink of ever-after fell away, and the ground grew firm under my feet. The late-morning sun spilled through the new spring leaves, and I shivered, feeling winter in the spring damp.

"Home again, home again, jiggity jig," I said, patting Lucy.

"Aant achel!" the little girl said, laughing as she patted her middle. "Tickles!" I could only assume she meant the sensation of the line through her, but then her eyes widened as she saw the sleeping gargoyles perched everywhere. "Shhh," she said. "Biz-z-z-z nap."

I shifted her weight, not wanting to put her down and risk her trying to touch one. "That’s right," I said as I headed for the church. "Bis is napping. Let’s go call your abba." Oh God. Quen. Trent had been fond of Ceri, but Quen had loved her with the depth reserved for one who thought he’d never love at all. For once, I was glad he was injured and unable to do magic. If he had been otherwise, he’d likely be dead by now, too, having pitted himself against Ku’Sox.

"Abba!" Lucy crowed, wiggling in delight before she went still in thought. "Cookie?" she added hopefully, and my eyes filled as Lucy patted the dandelion fluff tattoo on my neck.

The sun was shining and I was home, but the reality of what had happened was falling on me anew. Ceri had died protecting Lucy. I’d make sure that Lucy knew that when she was older. "And a cookie," I said miserably as Jenks’s kids found us, distracting the little girl and making her stretch for their clattering wings and bright voices.

I slowly trudged to the church through the pixy dust, wondering if the kitchen, at least, was baby proofed. I’d have to move my splat gun, bare minimum.

What had I been thinking? Ku’Sox was free. Ceri and Pierce were dead, Trent was a demon slave, again, and the son of a bitch was free.

Chapter Seventeen

The late afternoon sun was gone from the kitchen as I sat at the table, depressed as I stared at the defunct disguise amulet perched in my fingertips. I wasn’t in the best of moods to be trying something so difficult as breathing life into a ley line charm that had been dead for more than ten years, but I wanted some practice before I tried this again with some rich elf’s one-of-a-kind family heirloom.

I’d already found the charm I wanted from the brochure, checking the description and the owner’s claims of powers against an account found in one of the books Trent had gotten from the library. Quen was going to bring it over when he came to pick up Lucy. He was overdue, and I hoped everything was okay.

"Rings," I said sourly, looking at the charm balanced on my hand. Why couldn’t it be a sword or whip or something pointy? But no, elves apparently had a thing for rings, and the set I’d chosen seemed perfect, allowing a strong connection that would allow me to join my strength to Quen’s or Trent’s. It wasn’t made for war, and I hoped that meant elves and demons could use it. That Al would be healed up enough to help me was nothing I wanted to count on.

"If, if, if," I muttered as I stared at the charm balanced on my fingertips. I was putting the F back in if, and I didn’t like it. Time was stealing my buffer for when if turned to no. I was starting to hate two-letter words.

I’d thought that practicing reinvoking old charms would be a good idea. I just wished I wasn’t blowing my dad’s old charms to hell, one by one. It didn’t help that I was trying to be quiet as Jenks read to Lucy in the back living room, or that a handful of pixies were playing in my dad’s dusty box, giggling and whispering as they plotted mischief. Between the catchy rhymes from next door, the giggling whispers, and me thinking Jenks had hidden Pierce’s old watch from me so I couldn’t try to resurrect him, it was hard to concentrate.

Indecision had made me cranky, but I figured if Pierce was able to be summoned back to a temporary life, he would be changing my ringtones. My phone had been distressingly silent. Ceri and Pierce were gone, and my heart ached more than I could have imagined.