Pale Demon (The Hollows #9)(131)
Author: Kim Harrison

"What, you still want me to work for you? I’m pretty much useless," I said, feeling the charmed silver heavy on my wrist.

"That?" Trent said, his eyes flicking to the braided bit of charmed silver. "I told you it was a choice. Just say the word, and I’ll tell you the charm to break it. We can talk at Lucy’s birthday party. You like clowns?"

My mouth dropped open, and Quen edged away from me. "You are not subjecting that sweet little girl to clowns!" I exclaimed.

Chuckling, Trent settled back in the car. "Take care, Rachel," he said as the window started to go up. "Don’t be afraid to call me. We can teach Lucy how to ride."

Riding. Right. "You take care, too…Trent," I said, not knowing if it felt odder saying it or meaning it. The last ten days had been educational. The man was clever, intelligent, and utterly lacking in someone he could just…talk to. He was never himself, even with Ceri. It had to be a lonely way to live.

But it wasn’t my problem, and I gave Quen a small wave and turned to the church. I didn’t wait for them to leave, just picked up my suitcases and headed for the stairs. Jenks met me halfway up. "Fairies!" he shrilled. "In the garden!"

"Now?" I stammered, heart pounding.

"Yes! I mean, no!" he shouted, flying backward as I hesitated on the steps. "They attacked two days ago!"

"Is everyone okay?" I asked, my gaze going to the steeple, seeing Bis there now, the glint of his red eyes and his relaxed posture telling me everything was fine.

Trent’s window rolled down, and leaning out, he asked, "Is there a problem?"

Concerned, I said, "Jenks says we were attacked two days ago."

Quen paused with his hand on the door, exchanging a look with Trent. Was the coven still at it? They’d pardoned me, and even though they were mad at Trent for having released Ku’Sox, they weren’t going to do anything about it lest Trent retaliate with something worse.

"I was eating Tink-blasted cotton candy while fairies were attacking my children!" Jenks said, dripping a red dust.

A faint smile touched Quen’s face, and giving me a nod, he got in the car. Trent, though, was still leaning out the window. "Perhaps Quen should look over your security before we go," he said, then ducked back into the car.

Quen met my startled gaze, sitting behind the wheel but with the door still open. "Sa’han?"

Jenks was a bright ball of irritation. "My security is fine," he snarled.

But Trent was talking to Quen over the seat. "It wouldn’t hurt to look around," I heard him say faintly. "I’ll come in in a minute. Lucy needs attention."

He wants to come in? But Quen was getting out of the car, his body language not confused but perhaps…indulgent, and it wouldn’t hurt to have Quen look under my bed. "Okay. Sure. I don’t care," I said, and Jenks rose up, appalled.

"Rache!" he shrilled.

"We’ve been gone for almost two weeks," I said as I started up the steps again. "What can it hurt?" But what I was thinking was, What does Trent want?

Quen’s door thumped shut, and I waited on the threshold for him, yanking the door shut behind us and dropping the suitcase in the dark foyer. Ivy was casually standing at the pool table sorting almost two weeks’ worth of mail, and I relaxed. Something felt like it was missing, though. Pierce.

"We are all fine," Jenks was saying as I breathed in the scent of Quen, seeming all the stronger for the foyer being dark. "We don’t need your help."

Quen flashed a bright smile. "Mr. Kalamack would like me to inspect the grounds." His gaze shifted to Ivy as if for permission. Wise man. "Is that all right with you, ladies?"

Ivy didn’t even look up from the mail. "Knock yourself out. Stay out of my room."

Quen turned to me next, and when Jenks buzzed off in annoyance, I asked him, "What is he really looking for?"

Again, he smiled, but it was softer this time. "An excuse, I think."

Great. Just friggin’ great.

Quen brushed past me, a shredded wisp of cinnamon and wine lingering in his wake. "I’m telling you, we’re fine!" came Jenks’s irate shout as he followed him into the hallway, and then the pixy darted back, dripping a bright silver dust. "Rachel!" he whined at me, his long hair getting in his eyes. There wasn’t a single pixy kid in the church, not unusual if their dad was on the warpath.

I trudged forward with my stuff. "Go with him if you want."

Jenks rose up and down indecisively as if on a string, but when he heard the back door open and shut, he darted to me, flying backward as he fumed.

"What does he want?" Ivy asked mildly as I passed her.

"I’ve no idea." I had none whatsoever, but I imagined that his claim of tending to Lucy was an excuse so I wouldn’t see him taking the steps in his cast. He could make it all right, but he lacked his usual grace, and I knew it bothered him.

"What happened?" I asked Jenks as I smacked my luggage into the wall in the hallway.

"The kids fought them off," Jenks admitted, his dust finally starting to dampen as he followed me to my room. "Them and that fairy girl."

He had almost spat out the last, and I elbowed my light switch on to see his face screwed up in a nasty expression. "Belle?" I asked, remembering that Sidereal’s daughter had remained behind to watch me. It smelled stale in my room, and leaving my garment bag and overnight case on the bed, I propped the narrow stained-glass window open. Night sounds, the scent of marigolds, and the singing of pixies seeped in. Hands on my hips, I sighed, glad to be home.

"She has a name? You knew she was here?" Jenks yelped, a burst of dust lighting my perfumes.

"Well, yeah." I took off my jacket and hung it on my bedpost. "Didn’t you? Jeez, Jenks. She’s been here for months."

He fumed, his wings drooping and his tiny features cross as I needled him. Relenting, I tugged my closet door open and hung up my garment bag. Unzipping it, the smell of clean fabric spilled out. "Everyone is okay, right?" I prompted, wondering if I should be more concerned.

"Yeah…," he admitted. "But…"

"Then relax." I pulled the beautiful dress from the bag and hung it at the back. "Bis!" I shouted, sensing him up on the steeple. He probably couldn’t hear me, but he’d come anyway.

"You don’t care!" Jenks exclaimed, twin pixies rising in my dresser’s mirror. "We were attacked and you don’t care!"

"Of course I care," I said, then shut the closet door hard enough to make his dust shake. "But I’ve been trapped in a plane with you for five solid hours. No one is hurt, and you need to chill!" He was scowling at me, and I lowered my voice. "Let me catch my breath, okay?" I pleaded.