Pale Demon (The Hollows #9)(124)
Author: Kim Harrison

A pinprick of an opening began, and he slipped from me, darting through it and closing it behind him like a trap.

He was gone. Alone, I writhed in pain, trying to scrape together enough memories to tune my own aura. I had to get out before I was shredded to nothing. I wasn’t going to go to Al, who was now playing patty-cake with Ku’Sox.

The memories of those who meant the most to me flashed through my mind: Memories of Jenks, smirking at me, his hands on his hips as the sun lit his hair. The soft smile Ivy would allow herself when she thought no one could see. Trent, his face showing love as he held his daughter-and then his powerful grace when he sat atop a horse, the hounds baying and the moon lording over it all. And Pierce, a single wistful thought of a touch I’d never feel again, the soft sound of another’s breathing against mine. I couldn’t have him, and he loved me anyway.

One by one, I fastened on them as a way out, and one by one, my memories were ripped away by the energy screaming through me, burning until I realized that my aura was gone. There was nothing left for the line to recognize. I couldn’t think fast enough, and I was going to die here amid the screeching of unbalanced energies and the forgotten souls of demons who couldn’t love. In utter agony, I curled my memories around what was left and tried to see past the pain, to form another thought to prove that I wasn’t dead yet. But it was too late, and terror struck me when my thoughts gave a hiccup, vanishing for an instant, then returning weaker than before.

Ms. Morgan! a panicked thought touched mine, and recoiled, leaving the scent of rock chips in the sun.

Bis? Mindless from the pain, I felt my soul start to burn. The sensation of dry grit and the sharp feel of ion-charged water grew stronger. I felt him wrap his soul around me, and yet I still burned.

Help me, Bis, I managed, and then with a ping, the shattered remnants of my soul shifted.

Chapter Thirty

I screamed, raw and pained, and it was real. My agony was joined by a woman’s startled cry and the sudden wailing of a baby. My face plowed into a tile floor, and my arms and legs went askew. Flat on my stomach, I lay on cold tile and burned, the salt-laden air cauterizing my skin. Above me, the drafts from Bis’s wing beats burned across my shoulders, and I moaned. Make it stop. Please.

"Help her!" the gargoyle cried out, and I sobbed with relief when he settled beside me and it was only the salt in the air that burned my skin. I was on fire, and I tried to move, the slippery sheen sliding under me.

"My God. Rachel?"

It was Trent, and I started to cry. Bis had found me and taken me to Trent. I couldn’t get up. Every breath hurt. Someone was having hysterics, and Lucy-it had to be Lucy-was crying at the top of her lungs, frightened by the noise.

"She’s burned!" Bis was saying, and my body started to shake as I curled into a ball. "She was in the lines. I felt her burning, and it woke me up. I found her. Got her out. Please pick her up. She needs help."

I sucked in the air in giant heaves, recognizing the sound of surf over the unmistakable commotion of a frightened woman being ushered out. I was with Trent. Where were we?

"Ms. Morgan!" Bis babbled, and a spasm shook me when his clawed hand touched me and the broken lines of San Francisco exploded in me.

"Bis! Don’t touch her!" Trent shouted, and a door shut. The crying baby and the woman were gone.

"Her aura is gone," Bis said, and I sobbed in relief when his fingers fell away. Oh God, it hurt. "Someone needs to hold her, give her an aura. That’s why I brought her to you. I saw your aura in the kitchen. It’s the same as hers. Her mind might not know the difference. She really hurts, Mr. Kalamack. Please!"

I slowly began to realize that I was out of the lines. Bis had found me and pulled me out. But I was raw. My soul was leaking. I had no aura to protect it. I was dying. But at least I was in the sun. I was in the sun? With Bis?

I tried to open my eyes a crack, seeing green tile and the soft movement of a white curtain. Bis had found me when no one else knew I was in danger. He was awake in the sun. And as I lay on the floor of the seaside patio, my heart seemed to break. He’d bonded with me, and now I was going to die. It was so unfair.

The air shifted, and the breath in me hissed over my teeth as the salt in it burned. My sweat had gone cold, and I shivered as Trent’s black slippers scuffed to a halt and he dropped to his knees before me, his hands outstretched but afraid to touch me. There was a bloody stick beside me, and horror trickled through me as I realized it was my arm. I wasn’t soaking in sweat but blood.

"Please make it stop hurting," I whispered, then gasped when Trent turned me over and lifted me into his arms. The twin sensations of fire and ice flashed like a cracked whip over my skin, and I clenched my body, gasping as his aura-Trent’s aura, golden and hazy-came between me and the world.

The burning eased, and I looked up at him, lungs heaving. The air hurt, but I couldn’t get enough in me. Ku’Sox was going to win. I was going to die. I felt it.

"Is she going to be okay?" Bis said, and I smelled cinnamon and wine, warm from the sun. Trent’s aura wasn’t enough, and I felt bits of me flaking off, but it gave me enough relief so that I could breathe. "It’s better, right, Ms. Morgan?" the gargoyle asked, shifting from foot to foot just inside my narrow range of vision. His red eyes turned to Trent. "Can you fix her?"

"I don’t know." The arms under me shifted, and a blissful coolness sifted over me like shaded sand. I hissed at the scraping sensation, my eyes closing. He smelled like hot wine, and all my muscles relaxed. I was leaking more than blood. My thoughts and memories were flaking from me every time the wind blew.

"But you have to," Bis said, and I heard a bird crying far away. My eyes were burning, and the trails of tears were like fire on my cheeks. "You simply have to. That’s why I brought her here."

Trent shifted, and I stifled a groan. "She’s lost a lot of it," he said. "Mine can’t keep her alive until she starts to make her own again."

It. He meant my aura, and I began shuddering in earnest, unable to stop. My muscles were seizing, and everything was going cold, even the fire licking what was left of my soul. My body was shutting down. I couldn’t stop it.

"But you made her do this!" Bis exclaimed. "You made her believe she could! You can’t just let her die!"

There was silence, and I felt Trent’s grip on me tighten.

"Rachel? Rachel!"

It was the silence that got my attention, and I managed to open an eye a bit. "What?" I breathed, glad the pain had eased. No one should die in pain. The blessing of angels.