Pale Demon (The Hollows #9)(58)
Author: Kim Harrison

Trent smiled as he moved his nearly empty glass of beer just so. "That’s not what I see when I look at you."

"Me neither," Pierce said under his breath, and may God strike me dead if the two men didn’t start to bond.

"What I meant," I said patiently, feeling like the butt of a joke, "is you think that I’m safe with them, but I’m not. If Al dies, I’m up crap creek."

Pierce spooned a piece of ice out of his drink. "Not my problem," he said, teeth clattering against it.

My jaw dropped. "Hey! You were the one who went to him with some stupid idea to be his familiar just so you could kill him."

"It’s a capital fine idea," Pierce said indignantly, glaring at me from under his hat. "And it would have worked if not for you."

Vivian leaned closer. "You tried to kill a demon?"

"I almost made a fist of it, yes," Pierce said, his features still holding his anger at me. "It was the only reason I did tuck with them, and I opine that if the truth were known, then the coven might have to apologize for burying me alive, and they wouldn’t want to do that, would they?"

Expression becoming pinched, Vivian sank back into the seat. I said nothing. As far as I was concerned, he was a black witch. And it bothered me, probably because I thought I might be one, too. Maybe I was being too harsh. Maybe.

Pierce gave me an angry look. "I’d be free tonight if not for your misguided, ignorant stupidity."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," I said, unable to look up at him. "It’s all my fault. And if you killed Al, where would I be? You can’t protect me from Newt. Like it or not, I need Al. Go kill someone else’s demon to make yourself a man, Mr. Black Magic User."

Pierce became silent as the Were in one flip-flop finished his set and got down amid a too-enthusiastic round of cheers.

"To freedom," Trent said, startling me. His glass was raised and, fingers fumbling, Pierce picked up his mostly empty glass and the two clinked.

Men. "Well, excuse me for trying to stay alive," I said, elbows on the table. I didn’t like being here without Ivy or Jenks. "And I thought you didn’t like Trent."

Pierce had taken a gulp, his eyes watering at the bubbles popping. "I can drink with a man and not like him," he said, and Trent smiled that infuriating men’s-club smile.

"I bet you can," I said, but I was busy looking over the moving heads for Ivy. Shouldn’t she be back by now? How long did it take to bite someone, anyway? Or was it the cleanup that took so long? I’d never been bitten where I wasn’t fighting for my life three seconds later. Must be I was doing it wrong.

"Excuse me," Trent said suddenly, and my attention jerked to him as he rose and nearly pushed Vivian out of the booth.

"Where are you going?" I asked suspiciously.

Trent hesitated next to the table, and Vivian slipped back in. "The washroom." His eyes went to his empty beer glass, then back to me. Slipping into the narrow path, he wove his way to the back of the restaurant, past the kitchens and the big sign proclaiming BUOYS and GULLS. Catchy.

My head started to hurt. This might be my only chance to talk to Trent alone. Sighing, I stood, saying, "Vivian, you got Pierce, okay?"

Vivian looked at me in bewilderment, letting go of the straw she was downing her soda with. "He needs watching? What’s he going to do?"

"I don’t need watching," Pierce said indignantly, and I swung my legs over the edge of the boat the way Ivy had. She’d probably looked better doing it, though. Not answering Vivian, I pushed into motion to follow Trent, noticing that he was getting some appreciative glances from the surrounding patrons. He didn’t give any indication that he knew I was behind him as the noise of the restaurant was replaced by the clatter and steam of the kitchen, and then the muted noise of the back hallway.

"Trent," I said as he reached the door to the restroom. Arm stiff, he pushed the door open and went in, not acknowledging that I was behind him.

I didn’t slow down, following him in with my breath held and my shoulders tight.

Trent was at the mirror, head down as he held the sides of the white sink with a resigned air about him. Glancing up, his eyes twitched when they found me in the mirror’s reflection. "Get out."

Arms swinging, I let my held breath out and decided it didn’t stink too much in here. Ugly things, urinals. Going past him, I looked under the single stall, then kicked it open to make sure no one was standing on the toilet. Trust me, he’d said, but he had summoned Ku’Sox, and I needed to know why.

"You hired me for protection," I said stiffly. "That’s what I’m doing."

Trent turned to lean against the sink. "It’s a bathroom. Wait outside."

I stood with my hand on my hip, angry. "Seems like I remember that the elves who attacked you under the St. Louis arch had the same bits that you do," I said, and he frowned. Sauntering forward, I all but pinned him against the sink. "Remember St. Louis? The arch fell down? Why the hell did you free a day-walking demon? Didn’t trust me to get you there, huh?"

Turning his back on me, he pumped the soap dispenser, having to go to the next one before anything came out. The rims of his ears were red, and my anger grew. "I know you girls go to the bathroom in packs, but I’d appreciate some privacy," he said, his jaw tight and the skin around his eyes pinched. "No self-respecting assassin takes their mark in the john."

"And no self-respecting assassin makes a hit on an interstate, either." I moved closer, well within his discomfort zone. "You want to tell me what in the hell you thought you were doing freeing a day-walking demon from under the St. Louis arch?"

Trent didn’t pause, his smooth motion never bobbling as he turned off the water, shook his hands, and reached for a paper towel. Silent, he turned, his expression closed.

A quiver rose through me and tightened my gut. I wanted to shove him, but I managed to keep my hands where they were. Through the cement walls, I could hear cheers as the next band took the stage. "Ku’Sox was halfway to killing you until I shoved that energy back into him. He knocked down the arch, trying to kill both of us," I said, pushing forward until we were only inches apart. "And then I freed you from your familiar bond and made you immune to him. What I want to know is whether you’ve been planning this from day one, or if you’re making this up as you go along."

He turned his back on me, not looking at my reflection as he arranged his hair. "I’ve known about Ku’Sox since last year," he said, and I dropped back, not knowing if I believed him or not. His eyes flicked to mine in the mirror. "You think Ivy is a planner? She has nothing on a motivated elf with too much money." He looked away, shifting one thin lock of hair over his ear. "I’ve got this under control."