Pale Demon (The Hollows #9)(100)
Author: Kim Harrison

"Done already?" he said, his mood expansive. "From witch to demon in less than an hour. It must be a record. And what are you doing in the badlands? They’re somewhat…unnerving, are they not? Especially now."

I was scanning the edges of the ragged horizon, looking for heads, sticks, rocks, whatever. "Yes. I’m done. You were right. Oliver lied. Pierce is an idiot. They should all eat toads and die. Can we go home?"

Oh God. The ever-after was my home.

Al blinked, tucking his cane under an arm and a white-gloved hand turning my chin to him as he peered into my eyes. "Rachel, love, what did they do to you?"

I blinked, shocked to find that tears suddenly threatened. "Nothing."

"They cursed you…," he whispered, flinging his walking cane at a surface demon. The creature squealed, and a putrid puff of green smoke was torn apart by the gritty wind. "It was that elf, wasn’t it?" Al said. "I smell the stink of wild magic on you. You can’t go back unless summoned."

"No, I can’t," I admitted, feeling stupid. "But Trent has a plan…" My words trailed off and I felt even more like an idiot. What was the point? I was here. Even if I cursed Ku’Sox, I was still shunned, a virtual exile.

"I told you to take that piece of elf crap firmly in hand," Al said, pulling himself to his full height and frowning sternly at me. "Now look what he’s done. You were a day-walking demon, free to come and go as you please, and now you’re chained like the rest of us. What a waste. Stupid girl."

I said nothing, and Al stepped back, his lantern making a hazy gold glow around us. "He has a plan, eh?" he mocked.

Bless it back to the Turn. "Yeah," I said, yanking a strand of hair out of my mouth where the wind had put it. "But it doesn’t matter anymore. Can we get out of here? It stinks, and my knees hurt."

Shaking his head, Al tsk-tsked, making my face burn. I suddenly felt small beside him, and I shrugged out of his arm, trying to go companionably over my shoulder. "This is why we don’t live on the surface," he said as he tried to cover up my rebuke by tugging his frock coat straight. "I’ve never seen it this bad, though. Usually the buildings don’t fall like this." He sniffed and adjusted his smoked glasses. "Shall we go?"

Shivering, I hobbled up to him, feeling his warmth. I was starting to get depressed. I was never going to see the sun again. "Thank you for picking me up," I said, and Al beamed.

"It’s what I live for, Rachel. I have a treat for you."

"What?" I said, cringing at the idea of another one of his parties.

"Dalliance," he said, dissolving me into a memory and pulling me into a line. I’m taking you to Dalliance.

Chapter Twenty-Four

The transition was smoother this time as we crossed merely the ever-after, not realities, and my feet barely stumbled as the stink and grit of the surface echoed once and died, replaced by a heavy bass thump and the sound of clinking glasses. Laughter mocked me, and I looked up, numb as we misted into existence. Damn it, Trent. Trust me. He had said trust me. Did he have any idea of what he was asking?

"Right on the tick," Al said jovially, his arm in mine as he checked his pocket watch. "Clean yourself up, Rachel. Dalliance is a respectable establishment."

I didn’t know whether to cry or scream. I’d put my trust in a scheming elven drug lord. Al was right. How stupid could I be? I’d lost. I’d lost Jenks, Ivy, my church…everything, cursed to remain on this side of the lines unless summoned. If that didn’t make me a demon, what would?

A bar was to my left, full of demons in trendy clothes reaching over one another to get their drinks. The music was so loud that shouting replaced talking. In front of me was a much more refined restaurant, sedate but borrowing from the energy at the bar. The theme seemed to be Art Deco, with a lot of thick glass etched with circles and triangles. Gray-and-white-patterned carpet mixed with tile, again using the circles and triangles theme. It was modern, expensive, and looked mildly excessive. The smell of food made my stomach growl, which ticked me off. How could I be hungry?

A host wearing a tux was talking to the three people ahead of us, his goat-slitted eyes telling me that they used demons as workers here, not familiars. Trendy and expensive, indeed. The music thumped, and laughter broke out from the wide-spaced tables where waitstaff eased through like boats in the fog. The restaurant was only half full, and the host led the demon trio ahead of us to a table, their clothes and manners making them look like CEOs out for a night of schmoozing on the company’s account. Men. Everyone here was male. Behind the host’s mahogany desk, DALLIANCE floated in mist, sparkling like Jenks’s dust.

Jenks…

I blinked fast, my jaw clenched. A tingling at my shoulder pulled my attention to Al. He’d changed from his crushed green velvet coat and lace into a three-piece charcoal gray suit. A red handkerchief peeped from the breast pocket, and his hair was slicked back. He looked like a professional businessman, right down to the eight P.M. stubble.

"Cheer up, Rachel," he said, shifting his shoulders as if fitting into a new suit. "This is Dalliance. You’re not still moaning about Pierce, are you? We’ll pick up your little pet tomorrow. Tonight is for celebration!"

"Where did you get that?" I asked, not caring about Pierce.

He looked at me, new lines in his face as he played the part. "My closet. You don’t think I am a one-trick pony, do you? Hold still. First thing tomorrow, I’m teaching you a brush-and-wash curse."

I took a breath to complain, even as I felt a wave of his energy cascade over me, easing the pain in my knees if not the ache in my heart. Yes, I was depressed, and yes, I’d just lost everything, but I felt like a slob with the grit of the surface on me, and if it would clean me up, then all the better.

I shivered as the curse slipped away, looking up as Al took out a pair of modern wire glasses and perched them on his nose. They had a bifocal line, and I knew he didn’t need them. "Much better," he said with a sniff. "No one takes you seriously if you’re in rags."

I jerked when his energy flowed over me again, and my tight leather melted away into an uncomfortable gray business suit. A purple Gucci bag was in my hand, and a Palm Pilot on my hip. "Hey!" I exclaimed, my hand going to my hair to find that it was back in a bun. My shoes were so tight they hurt. "What was wrong with the leather dress? You picked it out for me."

The host was coming back, and Al pulled me forward as if I was his arm candy. "This is Dalliance. If we don’t fit the theme, we can’t stay."