Pale Demon (The Hollows #9)(25)
Author: Kim Harrison

"You care?" Trent muttered.

"No," I said, resettling myself to look out the front. "But I told Quen I’d keep you alive. Even when you do stupid stuff like hide in a hole instead of finding Ivy like I told you to."

"I wasn’t aware that keeping your word was important to you," he mocked.

My eyes narrowed. Jenks shook his head, warning me not to rise to the bait, but I couldn’t help it. "It is," I said, eying my nails. There was blood under my cuticles. Trent’s?

"And that’s why you refuse to take my familiar mark off?" Trent asked.

Ivy exhaled loudly, and I looked sideways at him. "I don’t trust you," I said. "Duh."

Seeing my irritation, Trent put his leg across his knee and lounged in the backseat like it was a limo, the sun in his hair and eyes as he looked out at the hot, flat view. How could someone with a bloody rag around their arm look that confident? Because he could sing someone to death? "That’s patently obvious," he said softly, almost like a rebuke. "But you did agree."

I huffed and turned back around. "Like you hold to all your agreements."

"I do," he said quickly. "Agreements…and threats."

Jenks’s expression had gone dark. Ivy, too, was clenching her jaw. The scent of cinnamon and wine grew stronger. Trent might look calm, but he was losing it on the inside. I might not have noticed it last year, but after spending almost a day with him, I could now.

"Then why haven’t you killed me? Huh?" I said, turning and holding myself back from the seat so I could look at him square on. "Go for it, you little spot of sunshine! I just beat off three assassins, one by myself. I’m stronger than you, and you know it." I smiled insincerely. "It bothers you, doesn’t it? You rely on Quen far too much."

His eyes flicked to mine, then away. "That’s not it at all," he said mildly, the wind playing in his hair, showing that smear of blood again.

"Is so," I said, and Jenks cleared his throat. "You’re lucky I pushed that magic back into those idiots and got them to back off. There was enough there to kill both of us."

Irritation crossed his face, so quick I wasn’t sure it even existed. "That’s not what I meant," he said, dabbing a bloody cloth against an ear. "Obviously you’re more capable than I in magic. It’s why I wanted to hire you in the first place," he said, making it sound like an insult. "The deal was that I give you until the witches’ conference to resolve this issue." I made a "well?" face at him, and he snarkily added, "We aren’t there yet. You’ve got a day or two before I start trying to kill you again."

My mouth dropped open. From behind me, Jenks coughed, covering up a laugh. "I just saved your life!" I said loudly, anger spilling into my voice. "Again!"

"Will you two stop bickering?" Ivy suddenly said, and I flicked a look at her, seeing her about ready to lose it. The blood, the anger, it was adding up. Trent had pissed me off, and I was filling the car with it. I wasn’t done, but for Ivy, I’d shut my mouth.

"Screw you, Trent," I said as I flopped back into my seat. In hindsight, it might not have been the best thing to do since Ivy took a deep breath and shuddered.

"I’m just saying-" Trent started, his voice cutting off as Ivy put on the blinker. We hadn’t seen a car in miles, but she flicked it on and took the exit ramp, right before the interstate rose to go over a grass-covered road running north and south.

"Uh, Ivy?" I asked. Trent, too, had put both feet on the floor and sat up straight. I’d almost say he was worried.

"I’m good, Ivy," Jenks chimed in. The guy had a bladder the size of a pinhead.

"I’m not." Ivy looked at Trent through the rearview mirror. "You stink."

I looked over the seat, wincing at the sight of his blood-soaked shirt-sleeve and the wad of red tissue he had pressed against his ear again. "Sorry," he said sourly. "Didn’t mean to offend."

"You’re not offensive," she said shortly. "You’re turning me on. Get out. Clean up."

I turned back around, mouth shut. Tires popping on pebbles, Ivy pulled onto a seldom-used road bracketed by two deserted gas stations and a derelict fast-food joint. Slowing, she made a beeline across the grassy pavement to the station with the least weeds. She brought the car to a halt, sideways to the faded parking lines, and put it in park. Sighing, she turned the engine off.

Silence and crickets took over. It was four according to my cell phone, but it felt like five. Somewhere we’d crossed a time line. "Where are we?"

Jenks looked up through the strip of blue-tinted glass at a faded sign. "Saint Clair?"

The sound of Trent’s door opening was loud, and above us, a car drove by on the interstate. "Good," he said as he got out, with a wince, to peer at it. "That’s 47 going under the expressway. If we take that, we can hit I-70 in an hour and cut twenty hours out of the drive."

Ivy leaned back and closed her eyes. "I’m not driving on a two-lane road. Not out here in the abandoned stretches. And not after dark."

"You’re afraid?" Trent mocked.

Jenks rose up and down in nervousness, but Ivy just settled deeper into the sun. "Absolutely," she said softly, and I bobbed my head, totally agreeing with her. I didn’t want to get off the interstate, either. There were bad things in the empty stretches, especially out west, where there’d been less of a population to begin with.

"Release the trunk, will you?" Trent said, clearly not going to push the issue.

While Trent shuffled to the back of the car, I began gathering the trash. I don’t remember anyone buying Milk Duds…

"Be quick about it!" Ivy said loudly as she reached for a lever and popped the trunk. "And don’t go in the building for water. I’ve got wet wipes in the outside pocket of my bag."

"I know better than to knock on doors," Trent said, feeling his jaw as he pulled his suitcase out and moved to the back of the car.

I watched him in the side-view mirror until the lid of the trunk lifted, blocking my view. Fidgeting, I finished shoving trash into one bag. I didn’t believe his crack about trying to kill me, but I was going to have to make good on our deal at some point. Here in the middle of nowhere might be better than in the middle of San Francisco with witches breathing down my neck. I didn’t trust him, but now was better than later. It might get him to shut up, too.

"Ivy," I said as I grabbed my shoulder bag. "Do we have twenty minutes?"

"You gotta pee, too?" Jenks guessed, darting outside the window to warm himself in the sun. "Tink’s panties, I don’t know why it takes you women so long," he said from outside.