Pale Demon (The Hollows #9)(88)
Author: Kim Harrison

Our pace slowed, as much for the people clustered near the door as for the sound of a hundred conversations beating on our ears. Single file, we passed among the groups of people gathering here to either step out to make a call, have a smoke, or just use the front as a place to meet their friends. I followed Pierce with half my attention, more interested in the huge chandelier that stretched up six stories, dominating the entire interior cave. The ever-after draining out of me when we had crossed the threshold had been caused by something and I was betting it was this. It looked a lot like the device Lee had had on his boat, but a whole lot bigger.

My dropping gaze landed on a black-suited man with absolutely no expression on his face. He was wearing sunglasses and staring at me. Nervous, I set a hand on Pierce’s shoulder, anxious not to lose him in the crowd.

"I see them, too," Ivy said from behind me.

Them? There was more than one?

Pierce turned, waiting for us to catch up with him as we finally got through the worst of the crowd. "I walked the place this afternoon," he said, glancing first at the man I had noticed, then to another by a bank of elevators. "Registration is that way. Food is that way. Rest areas are on the first and third floors."

I was guessing he meant bathrooms, and a sudden urge to cross my legs and do the little-girl dance took me. Relax, Rachel.

"I should have been doing that," Ivy muttered, and Pierce nodded, ticking me off. Ivy had been there to help me beat off the coven. He had no right to make her feel guilty.

Still not undoing his coat, he led us across the lower floor. "You were a mite busy keeping Rachel’s body and soul together," Pierce said, then pointed up to the overlooking second story. "The common entry to the auditorium is up there. There is an entrance on the ground floor, but it’s guarded. Coven members only."

"Good, an escalator," I said, stifling a shiver.

"Since when are you afraid of elevators?" Ivy said as she got on before me and Pierce got on behind me, his hand on the small of my back, steadying me. I’d take offense, but I was ready to bolt and my knees felt like rubber.

"I’m not," I protested, pulse quickening. God, it’s about to happen. My entire life is going to change in the next hour. "I’m-"

"Thinking about the coven taking a last potshot at you. I know." Ivy came back even with me as we passed a group of harmless-looking witches on their way down. I dropped my gaze so I didn’t have to make eye contact, adjusting my badge on my bag. If I held my arm just right, it would be obvious I had a badge without making it easy to read my name. I didn’t want to be recognized, but I think I was by the amount of whispering and pointing going on. Unless it was my dress.

Ivy was first off, and I found myself exhaling as I followed. Pierce bumped into me, and looping his arm in mine, he almost pulled me to the set of double doors across from the wide, low-ceilinged, lobbylike area. People were clustered here, too, and I felt myself pale as the conversations stilled and faces turned to us. I heard the click of a phone camera, and I shook myself.

"Chin high," Pierce said softly, but I was nauseated. I’d been running from this for what seemed like a lifetime.

His fingers touched mine, and I felt a tingle. He was wire tight, but it was the faint pulse of cracked ever-after in him that caught my attention. "How are you tapping a line?" I said as we settled in at the back of a short line to get in. They were checking badges, and I was doubly glad Pierce had picked up mine.

Pierce curled his fingers to take a stronger grip on me, and my shoulders eased when I felt the warmth of a masculine-tasting energy fill me. "I borrowed an amulet from a security member," he said, shooting me a sly glance, then looking dead ahead. "And his badge. Don’t worry. Wallace never reported it. He’s being entertained."

From Pierce’s wry expression, I had a pretty good idea of how Wally was spending his evening. Oh, man. That is going to look great if they find out.

Beside us, Ivy chuckled, and I felt tons better as Pierce funneled energy into me, slippery or not. It would leave as soon as I let go of him, but in the interim it was nice. "You are a cad," I whispered, leaning in to smell his redwood scent mixing with a woodsy cologne. When did he have time to shower?

"But a smart one," Ivy said. "Good thinking."

Pierce pulled his gaze from the head of the line. "I won’t let harm touch you. If there’s trouble, I’ll be there, and as soon as we get through security, I’ll give you the amulet."

I could see the sense in that, and I nodded as my headache began to ease. The line moved forward, and I took the pen after checking my lethal-amulet detector. It wasn’t working, but old habits die hard. As the bored woman behind the table talked to her neighbor, I signed the paper, adding a period at the end of my name to break any psychic connection. I handed it to Pierce, who immediately gave it to Ivy.

"I’m her security," he lied to the woman, taking my bicep a little more firmly.

I eyed Pierce, letting him manhandle me since he seemed to enjoy the excuse and I couldn’t protest without causing a stir. A flash of interest broke across the woman’s face, and she looked from the paper Ivy was signing, to the badge pinned to my bag, to me. In one breath, her expression went from pleasant to disgusted. "Oh, it’s you. You have a reserved seat up front."

Oh, it’s you? Nice. "Thank you," I said pointedly as Ivy pushed the paper back toward her. "Do you know if Trent Kalamack is here yet?"

"No." She was breathing fast, and the ladies to either side of her were silent.

My gut twisted. Black witch. They thought I was a black witch, and they could hardly stand me. "We’re going to need one more place," I said, indicating Ivy, and the woman shook her head.

"She can’t go in."

I’d had it with women who thought they had ultimate power because they’d been given a tiny task, but I exhaled, trying to relax. "Why not?" I asked, voice level as I hitched my shoulder bag higher.

"Witches only."

Pierce looked up, scanning the crowd behind us as someone began calling "Yoo-hoo!" in a loud, demanding voice.

"Trent Kalamack isn’t a witch," I said, my temper rising.

Pierce let go of me to wave at someone, and the power that had been seeping through me drained away. A headache slammed into me, and I stiffened.

"Mr. Kalamack is part of the proceedings," the woman said. "She isn’t."

Angry, I put my hands on the table and leaned into her slightly. Ivy drew me back, her eyes holding a surprising lack of anger. "I’ll get in another way," she murmured.