Pale Demon (The Hollows #9)(99)
Author: Kim Harrison

His hand let go, and it was as if I was sucked into myself, yanked backward into nothing. The jagged disjointedness of the San Francisco lines took me, dissolving me to thoughts and memories, and dropping me into the infinity of time.

He trusts me? I thought. Trust me, Trent had said. I wanted to. But to risk death to curse Ku’Sox? Why should I even bother?

The world had turned its back on me. I should turn my back on it.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Sliding, I hit the red soil face-first, eyes clenched shut and teeth together so I wouldn’t bite my tongue as I scraped against the ground for several feet before coming to an ungraceful stop. The shift here had been rough, almost as if no one had been assisting, the subtle calculations that brought one back into reality standing and stable completely absent.

My first breath was choking, and I sat up, babying my knees and wiping the dirt off my bare legs and trying to figure out where I was. Yes, I was in the ever-after, but where? This wasn’t Cincy. The ley lines were too jagged and the skyline wasn’t right.

It was dark, the moon unseen behind boiling red clouds, the surrounding buildings slowly melting, slumping into themselves and burning as they collapsed. The thing was, they never seemed to fall completely. The best way I could describe it was that it looked like the world when you’ve been on a merry-go-round for too long-everything a jumping mess.

Knees throbbing, I tried to find the moon or some gravestones to fix on. If it was like Cincy, then they would be solid, free of the nauseating red sheen on everything. But there was no moon, and if there were any graves, they were unmarked. Not only was I two thousand miles from home with my knees busted again, but I was on the wrong side of reality. At least I had gotten rid of the charmed silver, though, and I rubbed my wrist, glad I could tap a line again, even if they were nasty, broken things.

On a whim, I tapped a line, wincing at the ugly taste of it but holding on all the same. Al could usually feel it when I tapped a line in the ever-after and would come and fetch me; otherwise, I don’t know how he’d know I was here.

"Stupid elf," I muttered, wrapping my arms around myself and shivering in the same, nerve-grating wind. God! I hoped I wasn’t being more stupid than usual. Had I really sat there and let him curse me? Because I tru-u-u-u-usted him?

The earth shook with one of the West Coast’s frequent tremors, and the building across the street collapsed. And collapsed. And collapsed again. For an instant, I saw a flash of black sky with stars, and a hint of peaceful gray water, and then it was gone and the red-sheened glow was back. Shivering violently, I took a step toward the fleeting image as a breath of salt-laden air pushed aside the burnt-amber stink for the briefest of instances. Did heaven lay just underneath the hell surrounding me, visible only on the farthest arcs of the pendulum swing?

A rock fell behind me, and I turned, my welcoming snarl freezing. It wasn’t Al. Heart pounding, I licked my lips and squinted in the reddish glow at the top of a small slump of rubble. "Oh, hey. Hi," I muttered, seeing the thin, raggedy figure standing belligerently above me, a bent stick in his grip. His bare foot moved, and another rock rolled clunking to where I was sitting.

"Yeah, I see you," I said as I painfully got to my feet, and then I yelped, ducking when he threw his stick at me.

"Holy mother pus bucket!" I yelled, dancing back as the surface demon jumped from the rubble to land ten feet in front of me. The slump of debris behind him slowly melted into dust and blew away, and a park bench took its place, only to crack and crumble as the demon inched closer.

"Look, home slice, I got no beef with you," I said as I hobbled backward, tugging my dress down. "I’m simply in the wrong place at the wrong time. Give me a minute, and I’ll be out of your hair. Off your turf. Outta your…crib."

He snarled at me. Honest, what had I ever done to him? But when he picked up his stick and his black-eyed stare went behind me, I had to look.

"Swell, you got brothers," I said, rising out of my crouch and putting my hands in the air as if giving up.

Bad decision. One of them threw a rock, and I ducked, pulling heavily on the ley line and wincing as a lame-ass circle wobbled into existence. The chunk of concrete hit my bubble inches from my head and slid down, and the surrounding surface demons edged closer. There wasn’t any salt water around to interfere with my magic, but the more heavily I pulled on the broken ley lines, the harder they were to work with, until it felt as if I were trying to hold a cat going boneless and slipping out of my grip.

The surface demons were wincing even as they crept closer, and I wondered if they felt the line I was trying to hold. It was giving me a headache, too. "Let’s all be friends, okay?" I said as I backed up. "I don’t want to be here any more than you want me to."

I jerked when two more rocks hit the bubble behind me, but a third one got through, and I gasped when my circle fell and the rock hit my shoulder. "Hey!" I exclaimed, popping my circle back into existence as I rubbed my arm. "Look, I’m not a demon, okay? Well, maybe I am, but I’m not like the rest of them. I can walk under the sun." Wincing, I added, "At least, I used to be able to. Maybe we can come to a mutual understanding. I help you, and you don’t stone me to death."

The first surface demon raised his stick, yelling, and they ran at me.

"Maybe not," I whispered, wide-eyed, and I pulled harder on the ley line, shoring my wobbly circle up. "Al!" I shouted, wondering where he was. I hadn’t wanted to admit defeat, but hell’s bells, I needed some help.

The surface demons barreling toward me suddenly skidded to a stop, their black eyes wide as they tasted the night. "Now you’re going to get it," I said, guessing Al was coming when the ones in the back scattered. "You should have been nice."

With a weird cry, the closest surface demon fell back, but it was too late. A flash of red light exploded overhead, smashing the buildings away as if I were at the center of an atomic explosion. The surface demons scattered like brown leaves, the remnants of their clothes and auras fluttering. It was Al, and he burst into existence in a grand mood, an old-fashioned lantern in his hand and a walking cane at his side.

"Rachel Mariana Morgan!" he shouted enthusiastically, raising the lantern high, and I painfully rose from my crouch, breaking my bubble with a small thought. "I’ve come to save you, love!"

I winced, even as I was glad to see him. He’d won, and with a cheerfulness that made me sick, he strode over the rubble between us, kicking rock and rebar out of the way. I couldn’t help but notice that the buildings he had destroyed with his entrance were back again. This was unreal. No wonder the surface demons were crazy.