Pale Demon (The Hollows #9)(117)
Author: Kim Harrison

My gaze came down, and I knew I was still carrying my smile when Pierce stared at me, standing beside a black van with an I.S. logo on it, its side door open and waiting. Vivian and Oliver were already inside, arguing over who got the two forward-facing seats. Another black car with lights on it waited ahead, a third vehicle behind. The street was pretty much empty apart from the chunks of stray concrete and bits of paper. We were to have an escort to the drop zone. I looked up again, seeing three gulls gliding to the bay.

"Rachel?"

I pulled my eyes from the sky when a dark building hid the birds. Heart heavy, I trudged to the van, not a charm or spell in my possession. Not looking at anyone, I stepped in. Vivian and Oliver had taken the seats facing backward, so I took the one across from Vivian. It was next to a wide, square window, and I sat pressed up against the cold wall of the van, again searching the sky for the birds.

The thump of the door closing sent a shock through me, and the wonderful smell of redwood grew thick as Pierce sat close, leaving a wide gap between him and the door. "Let’s move," Oliver said sourly, and the van inched forward. Through the big front window, I watched as the lights began to flash on the lead car, and we pulled out, quiet and peaceful-like a death march.

I sat and stared out the window. The gulls had reappeared from behind the building, and I propped the window open to watch them. Oliver complained; no one listened. The birds were beautiful, their stark white and black cutting across the blue as they screamed at one another, their voices echoing among the silent, broken buildings. It was quiet, the hush spoiled as the van’s tires popped and crunched over the scattered debris.

Pierce touched my hand, trying to get my attention, but I didn’t look away from the birds.

Ku’Sox held my friends hostage. I had nothing to fight him with except a curse I didn’t know how to twist. Vivian and Oliver weren’t going to be a help. Pierce might be, but I wasn’t going to count on it.

The birds vanished behind another building, and I turned to Pierce when he squeezed my hand. He seemed different, older, tired, dirty. His hand atop mine was scraped from moving rocks, his fingernails split and knuckles gashed. His hair was gray from the dust. His youthful, never-say die determination was wearing thin. And yet, as his hand gripped mine, his first words were "Are you okay?"

Anger flashed, but his grip tightened on me when I tried to pull away. "My friends are bait in a trap for me, I’ve been unconscious for three days in Al’s kitchen, the city that cursed me is asking for my help, and you want to know if I’m okay?"

"Al hurt you?" Pierce asked, his eyes flashing, and I shook my head.

"He…" I hesitated. "He kept me safe after I proved to the collective that I was a demon," I said, not looking as Vivian gasped and Oliver harrumphed as if he’d known it all along. I didn’t like the fact that the driver was hearing this, too, but there it was.

Pierce thought about that, his brow wrinkling even more until he smoothed it when he turned to face me squarely. "And you’re okay?" he asked again, and I didn’t say anything. No, I wasn’t okay. Fine maybe. Yeah, I was fine. Fucked in Extreme, as Ivy would say.

The car swerved to avoid another stalled vehicle, and I reached to steady myself so I wouldn’t lean into Pierce, reclaiming my hand in the process. The blue Land Rover had been abandoned when a two-ton chunk of someone’s living room had fallen on the hood. Bet that had been a nasty surprise.

We were heading down to the bay, and I caught a glimpse of it, sparkling in the quiet sun. My lungs filled and emptied. The blank faces at the hotel nudged into my thoughts. They’d called for my blood, chanted to give Trent the collective strength to slide Ku’Sox’s curse off on to me. The collective…

Crap, I thought, almost groaning as I figured it out. Could I be any more stupid? I’d forgotten the collective! That’s why the curse hadn’t stuck! The Latin was right; the implementation was flawed. I’d tried to shift the curse alone, and something that far-reaching needed a collective to make it adhere! I needed a witches’ collective. I needed the strength only a group of witches could give me.

My eyes narrowed, and my chest tightened. Yeah. Like they would help me now? But it was worth a shot.

"Rachel?"

I started, almost shocked to see Pierce sitting beside me, concern in the slant of his eyes. From the beginnings of hope, I found a smile. "You have dirt on your nose," I said, reaching to wipe it away. I hadn’t touched anyone in three days, and at the feel of his warm skin against my fingers, an unexpected welling up of tears threatened. I didn’t love him, but I could have, if things had been different.

"It will be okay," Pierce said softly, his hand coming up to cradle mine, between us. His grip on me was solid, real, and I felt guilty that I was reaching out for his support when I knew he loved me and I didn’t love him. But I felt so alone; I couldn’t let go.

"Tomorrow the sun will rise. He’s just a demon," Pierce said, making things worse.

A demon who held my friends hostage. Sniffing, I glanced out the window at the sun. Empty streets. The boats at the docks with their SEE THE WHALES signs flashed past. "Do I stink?" I whispered, and his grip on my hand twitched. I looked away, not needing his answer. I figured as much. With everything else that was going on, I was worried about how I smelled? But it mattered.

"I pay it no mind. You’ve been in the ever-after. I hardly notice it anymore."

Why was he being so nice to me? I didn’t deserve it. But I needed it. Taking a breath, I softly said, "Thank you for helping me." I looked up, encompassing Vivian and Oliver. "All of you."

Oliver snorted. "If we could do anything, we wouldn’t have summoned you," he said. "I’m here only to make sure you don’t run away."

Vivian frowned at him to be quiet. "What do you need?" she asked, taking her cell phone out of an inner coat pocket. "Anything at all."

The car turned, and the new coven pin on Pierce’s lapel caught the sun, sending little gleams of light about the car like the flashes of Jenks’s wings. I looked at Vivian’s phone as she waited for my answer. My heart clenched in pain. Her phone was so small, all black and silver with tiny little buttons that would do everything but make you a smoothie. Ivy would love it.

I closed my eyes as I tried not to cry. Damn it, demons didn’t cry, even when their friends were being held by a psychotic nutcase.

When my eyes opened, they landed on the driver’s in the rearview mirror. I was sure he was some I.S. goon they’d dug up somewhere and that he’d go back to his boss with whatever I said. Just as well. I wanted them to hear this, too. "Trent gave me a curse," I started, and Pierce smiled.