Ever After (The Hollows #11)(75)
Author: Kim Harrison

Stifling a sneeze from the dusty box, I exhaled, balancing the defunct disguise ley line charm and pushing my aura off my hand. The weird mental gymnastics needed to shift my aura to different shades was getting easier, but leaving my hand mostly bare of protection made it ache.

"Hey!" I shouted when the flap of the box flipped out, almost hitting me. Dust rolled up, and I sneezed, earning six high-pitched "bless-yous" from the pixies giggling inside. "Okay, everyone out!" They rose up, a charm between them as they apologized, begging to stay. "Out," I reaffirmed, holding my hand under the charm, and they dropped it. The tarnished silver fell into my hand, a pool of gold pixy dust seeming to warm it as they apologized again.

"Out, and stay away from Lucy! She’s finally settled down!" I called after them, and they were gone, out through the flue in the back living room if the squeals of Lucy’s delight were any indication. I relaxed a bit as I listened to Jenks’s voice murmur in rhyme, soothing as I set the charm back in the box. Wiping my nose, I sneezed again, but it was only a sneeze. I didn’t expect to hear from Al until it was too late. I was on my own, and I thought it ironic that elves were going to help me save the ever-after and all demonkind.

Exhaling, I emptied my mind of everything but the ring of metal perched in my hand, imagining the smallest whisper of red I could puddling under it. With just the barest nudge, I sent a tiny mote of aura up to the amulet. I held my breath as my aura drifted closer, the glyphs etched into the charm beginning to glow. My heart pounded, and I squinted as the ping of energy grew closer, closer, almost touching the metal. A glowing haze over the amulet moved faster, and when my aura touched the charm . . .

"Ow!" I shouted as my hand cramped up. Jolts of energy darted through my fingers as the full spectrum of my aura raced to protect my hand, and I dropped the charm. From the window came a tiny shattering of glass.

"You okay?" Jenks called, Lucy’s voice rising as well, mimicking his tone perfectly though the words were nonsense.

"Fine!" I exclaimed, frowning when I looked at the window. The brandy snifter on the sill was busted, Al’s chrysalis amid the thick shards. "Nice." Setting the defunct amulet aside, I stood, my nose wrinkling at the burnt amber smell coming off the chrysalis.

"Rachel?" Quen’s voice called, strong but faint from the front of the church, shortly followed by the slamming of the door into the wall. "Are you in back?"

A bittersweet feeling took me, and I plucked the large chunks of glass out of the sink and dropped them in the trash. "Yes!" I exclaimed, and Lucy mimicked my call again.

A feminine clatter of high heels in the hallway gave me pause until I remembered Ellasbeth. I barely had time to run a hand over my hair before the woman skidded to a halt in the kitchen doorway, her eyes bright, her lips parted, hair a mess and her coat buttoned wrong. "Where?" she said, her eyes roving my kitchen and my empty arms.

"Abba?" Lucy called from the back living room, and Ellasbeth spun. "Abba!" It was demanding this time, and Ellasbeth bolted.

"Oh! My baby!" she said, but she was gone and I was alone, wondering how this was going to go over. Lucy probably didn’t remember her. Sure enough, frightened, intolerant baby protest rose amid Ellasbeth’s dramatic tears. "Lucy! Are you all right? I missed you so much! Look at you. You smell terrible, but I missed you so much. Oh, you got so big!"

I probably didn’t smell all that good either, and I shoved the window open a crack to let the cool spring air pool on the floor. In the back room, Lucy began to fuss in earnest, her complaints almost unheard over Ellasbeth. "It’s going to complicate things," Jenks’s voice came softly from the hall, mixing with Quen’s footsteps. "We just have to be more careful."

Jenks and Quen came in as I turned from the window, Ray on Quen’s hip, looking sweet with her dark hair and in her tartan kilt and hat. Ceri’s death came rushing back, and suddenly tears blurred my vision. Damn it, I hadn’t wanted to cry, but seeing him there with his motherless child and knowing that the girl would grow up without Ceri’s love was almost too much to take.

"Don’t," Quen said raggedly as Jenks hovered uncertainly at his shoulder, and I forced my eyes wide, sniffing the tears back. Quen’s own eyes glistened, the limitless pain in his soul showing. "Please don’t," he said stoically. "I’ll grieve when the war is over. I can’t afford it now."

I nodded, head down as I shoved my heartache away. War. That was about right. Quen looked capable in his short leather jacket and cap, like a bad boy grown up with a ’79 Harley parked in a three-car garage and a huge mortgage. The child on his hip somehow worked perfectly. Grief shimmered under his tight jaw and haunted eyes. "I’m sorry," I said, feeling helpless as he came into the kitchen and set Ray on the center island counter, his hand never leaving her, steadying her as she sat upright and silently watched the pixies who had come in with them. "None of this was your fault."

"It feels like it is."

But it wasn’t, and I leaned against the sink, aching at the sounds of Ellasbeth reuniting with her child. It hurt knowing Ceri never would. The pixies in the rack were taking turns dusting different colors, and Ray was riveted. Both Quen and Jenks began to look uncomfortable as Ellasbeth’s noises became louder.

Quen steadied Ray, and remembering Jenks’s cryptic comment when he had come in, I said, "So, what’s up, Jenks? More trouble?"

Sitting on the faucet, Jenks frowned. "Jax is around." The draft from the window pushed his depressed copper dust from him like a wayward aura. "The kids heard his wings not five minutes ago. And where Jax is, Nick probably follows."

"Ku’Sox is trying to get around our agreement," I said as I went to get a paper towel from the roll we kept on the table, a must when living with pixies. Ku’Sox had Trent, body and soul. He was also uncursed, which meant he didn’t need Nick anymore. That made the slimy man dangerous because he would be trying to prove to Ku’Sox that he was still worth something.

The rip of the paper towel was loud as I listened to Ellasbeth say, "Mama, not Abba. Mama, Lucy. Mama." I couldn’t help my frown. Ceri was her mama, not Ellasbeth.

Jenks flitted to the counter, his wings still as he walked to the edge. "Don’t worry, Rache. We won’t let crap for brains or Jax close enough to know what’s going on."

"Thank you, Jenks," I said as I dampened the paper towel and wiped the inside of the sink to get the tiny shards of glass. I had the beginnings of a plan that hinged on two rings I might not be able to use even if I could get them reinvoked.