Pale Demon (The Hollows #9)(33)
Author: Kim Harrison

"You want me to buzz her anyway?" Jenks asked. "Pix her, maybe?"

I shoved another empty box of Milk Duds in the garbage. Who is eating the Milk Duds? I glanced at Trent and Ivy, and seeing that they were leaving it to me, I shook my head.

"Good," Jenks said from my shoulder. "The elevation is kicking my ass. I can’t fly worth a Tinker’s damn."

I carefully got out, catching my hair before it could hit Jenks. Vivian had her head against the steering wheel as if exhausted, her straight blond hair falling to hide her face. She was alone, and therefore likely hopped up on a charm or a spell. She’d pay for it later. Big-time.

"Trent, will you pop the trunk?" Ivy said, standing beside it. "I’m going to shower."

I plucked my chemise away from my skin, thinking a shower sounded fantastic. Breathing deeply, I took in the air, tasting the differences. My body felt like it was almost noon, but the sun wasn’t that far above the horizon. Nine o’clock and the sun was already warm as it hit my shoulders. It felt good to be warm, and I squinted at the distant horizon, missing my sunglasses. The hard-packed earth had a pink tint to it. Rusty, almost. It was as if I could sense the salt beneath the earth, just under the surface. The wind moving my limp curls had the feeling of distance.

While Ivy stretched in what I recognized as her martial-arts warm-up, I reached out a finger of awareness and looked for the nearest ley line. My lips curled up in a smile. There was so little water in the ground here that it seemed as if I could feel the earth forever. The mental landscape of ley lines stretched as far and as clear as the flat horizon. There was space here, both visually and in the more nebulous regions of the mind. Lots of space, and nothing to stop any of the senses until the very earth curved from you. It was odd, and I took a moment to just taste it.

Breaking my line of sight, Ivy grabbed her overnight bag from the trunk. "I’ll see if they’ll rent us a room for an hour," she said, flicking her gaze at Trent, daring him to protest. "You want to shower, Rachel?"

"Absolutely," I said. "After I eat. Want me to order you something?"

Ivy shook her head, her gaze on the interstate. It was almost empty at this hour. "No. I’ll get something to go while you’re cleaning up."

Moving with an uncharacteristic stiffness, Trent started for the cloudy pair of restaurant doors. Jenks took to the air as if unsure of who to follow. His new boots and jacket caught the light, shining brilliantly.

"Trent, you going to want a shower?" Ivy called.

"Yes," he said, not turning. "Then I’m taking a nap."

Jenks’s wings clattered in relief. "We’ll get a table," he said quickly, then hummed heavily after Trent.

Ivy’s smile was faint but sincere. "Someone found a new friend," she said dryly.

I chuckled, thinking Trent looked dead tired. It was weird seeing him like that, so far from the usual polished, put-together face he showed the world. "Can you believe where we are? It’s not fair. If I drove ten miles over the limit, I’d get pulled over."

She made a sound of agreement, then glanced at Vivian, sleeping with her head propped up on the steering wheel. "You sure you don’t want to shower first?" she asked.

Grabbing my bag from the backseat, I flicked my lethal-magic detector. "Nah. I’m hungry. I’ll babysit Trent until you’re done. I don’t mind going last. Save me some water."

Nodding, Ivy turned on her heel and headed for the faded OFFICE sign and the wilted flowers in the huge earthen pots decorated with Aztec-looking figures that reminded me of ley-line glyphs.

I pulled my suitcase to the front of the trunk to grab a new shirt, bra, panties, and socks. My jeans were okay for another day. I shoved everything in my shoulder bag, and slammed the trunk shut. Across the parking lot, Vivian jumped awake. Waving at her, I went in. Poor girl. You’d think they’d give her some help in spying on us. Maybe it was a punishment of some sort.

The windows fronting the road had been tinted, and only the barest glimmer of light and warmth made it inside. As soon as the milky glass doors shut behind me, I felt cold, as if I had stepped into a cave. My attention went to the cash register, hoping for a stand of sunglasses, but there was nothing. Maybe the next stop.

The few people were clustered in such a way that it was obvious they didn’t know one another. A pinball machine flashed silently, trying to attract a quarter, and the carpet was almost threadbare. It smelled like Were more than vampire in here, but they had an MPL posted on the door, so I knew it was a mixed-population restaurant. Not that humans ever drove much through the between places anymore. Entire human populations had died in small towns during the Turn, and the fear lingered. It was only in the cities that there had been enough of a support structure to keep them alive in any numbers.

No one looked up as I entered except the waitress, and after I pointed at Trent, she turned away. True to his nature, Trent had taken a table in the center of the place, not in the sun but close. Oddly enough, even though he didn’t fit in with the rough Weres and brooding witches smoking I-don’t-want-to-know-what, he didn’t look out of place. It might have been Jenks on the napkin dispenser.

"We can’t take all day with this," Trent said as I pulled out the seat across from him, sitting down with a tired thump.

"We can skip your shower if you want," I said, arranging my bag so I could see the lethal-amulet detector hanging off it.

Green eyes looking black in the dim light, he frowned. "I didn’t drive ninety miles an hour all night so you two could waste it under a shower-head."

"I still have the dust from the arch in my hair," I said, turning my mug over to hopefully get something in it soon. "I know we’re in a hurry. I want to get there as much as you do."

Trent was silent, and Jenks looked between us, an unhappy expression on his face.

"You look tired," I finally said when Jenks made a motion for me to say something.

Trent’s pinched brow eased. "I am," he admitted, and Jenks perked up.

"Me, too," he offered.

"I don’t mind driving for a while," I said, trying to catch the waitress’s eye.

"That’d be nice, Rache," Jenks said snidely, hands on his hips and slipping a silver dust. "Since you’ve only driven about two hundred miles so far."

"No," Trent offered. "You need to stay hands free in case the coven…" He hesitated, lifting a shoulder and letting it fall. "In case the Withons send someone else," he finished.

"Yeah, okay," Jenks said, but I was surprised he’d taken Trent’s side in the first place.