The Undead Pool (The Hollows #12)(112)
Author: Kim Harrison

“You can get in,” Trent said, and I smiled when he propped his bare feet up on the edge of the table so he could use his legs as a makeshift table. “Which means we have an in as well.”

“Jenks, how long would it take for you to whip up some pixy pow?” I asked, seeing possibility where there’d only once been doubt. It was the same plan, but we were in charge now, and it made all the difference.

“Hey!” he exclaimed, a bright flash of silver slipping from him in a temporary sunbeam. “Who told you . . .” He glanced at Trent, his wings slowing. “I can have enough to blow the steeple off the church by midnight. Sundown with some help.”

Ivy hit a key decisively, and from the kitchen came the hum of the printer. “We’ll only need a thimbleful to take out the redundant power system they have in there,” she said, clearly in a better mood, though her fear for Nina was just under the surface. “I’ll take out the main power. Jenks can get you in and shut down the internal system. By the time you’re ready to run, I can be outside with a van. David plows the road to Loveland.”

Why did it sound so much better when she said it? Beaming, I passed the popcorn to her. “Told you,” I said to Trent, and he leaned back, eyeing us over his scribbled legal pad.

“You have amazing friends.”

“I need them to stay alive through my amazing life,” I said, and Ivy became almost sultry as she pulled herself together in her chair and smiled at Trent.

“Very well. But I’m still concerned that if everything goes as planned and the Goddess takes them back, she won’t be able to master them and we’ll be right back where we started.” His eyes met mine, and my shoulders hunched. It was a possibility that we had no control over, no way to plan for, and it bothered me.

Ivy stiffened when the doorbell rang. “More news crews,” she grumbled, gathering herself to stand, but Trent was faster.

“It’s probably Quen,” he said, glancing at his watch. “I asked him to bring over my phone and daily short list. If it’s reporters, I won’t open the door.”

“If it’s reporters, I’ll sic my kids on them,” Jenks said, taking to the air, and Trent jogged out, bare feet making tiny chirps of sound on the old oak flooring. It was a noise I’d never heard before in the church, and I ached that it might never sound again.

“I wonder how Quen got past the quarantine,” I said, and Ivy cleared her throat. The dry sound of it caught my attention, and I stiffened. Oh yeah. That.

“I’m not calling what we did a mistake,” I said defensively. “Nothing is going to change.” At least not where it showed.

“It has already,” she said faintly, and then her eyes fixed on mine, black and unreadable.

“I’m not moving out, Ivy.” God! What did she think I was going to do? Go live with the man? I liked my church, even if Trent did have a pool the size of my house and a twenty-four-hour kitchen. “That would be my least favorite thing to do,” I added, and her eyes dropped, making me wonder if she was the one who wanted out of this weird relationship we had.

Head down, she stared at her fingers, silent on the keypad. “Rachel? I . . . Thank you.”

Surprised, I stood, not wanting to be sitting when Quen came in. “For what? Dragging you into this? No problem. I’ll probably be doing it again before Christmas.”

Her lips curled into one of her few smiles, surprising me even more. “Sort of. Three years ago?” she said, hand lifting to indicate the church. “I can admit now that you were my long hunt. I’m sorry, but you were, and you slipped me.”

My lips parted, her bare honesty pulling through me like a heartache.

“But you proved I could help someone, even as messed up as I was. You helped me find a feeling of worth. Made me live up to my ideals.”

“Oh God, Ivy,” I said as she sniffed, and I went to her.

“I almost quit a hundred times,” she said as she smiled at me, eyes beautiful and black. “But you thought I had it in me and I wanted to prove I was as good as you thought I was, and now Nina is in jeopardy and you’re helping me . . .”

“Ivy, I’m so proud of you,” I said, dropping down to give her a hug. “Nothing is going to change.” My eyes closed, and I felt her arms go around me, the strength in them holding a frightening loyalty though we’d never be more than we were today. And that was enough. “We will get Nina out of this,” I promised, and she sniffed again, pulling back to wipe a tear away. “She’s a beautiful person. A little crazy, but good for you.”

Her head bobbed, and I scooted back to sit on the coffee table. “Do you . . .” She hesitated, jaw tightening, clearly determined to be out with it. “Do you think Jenks would be mad if I moved out?” My eyes widened, and she rushed to add, “Not right away. Maybe in a month or two?”

“Um,” I said, standing up at the soft sound of Quen’s shoes in the hall. “Honestly? Probably. But it’s nothing he won’t get over.”

Why does she pick the worst times to do stuff like this? I thought, my mind swinging back to Quen as he walked in. He was not a dumb man. Even if Trent hadn’t been up front about his feelings for me with him, the way Trent must have blown out of his estate without his phone or a way to reach him would not go unremarked upon.

Sure enough, Quen’s expression was tight with a sour annoyance. I gave him a confused smile as I tried to wrap my head around Ivy’s possibly moving out, feeling it slip from me at the man’s hard stare—as if I should have known better. Trent had that same preoccupied, tension-filled expression I’d come to associate with him trying to handle six things at once. The folder in his hands was leaking papers, and he immediately sat down and spread it open.

“How did you get through quarantine?” I asked when Quen noticed Ivy’s wet eyes.

“Rachel,” he almost drawled. “Ivy,” he said with a little more professionalism.

“You can get past the blockades any time you want, can’t you?” I accused Trent, and a faint blush marred the rims of his somewhat pointy ears.

“For the moment.” Trent leafed through the small stack. “Though I’m finding things have a tendency to change fast. Here.” He held out a stapled group of papers. “You might be interested in this. I’ll have a copy sent over every week if you like.”