The Undead Pool (The Hollows #12)(42)
Author: Kim Harrison

“You think it’s one of us?” he said, affronted, then grinned to show his flat, blocky teeth. “What a marvelous idea. Alas, no, it’s not. No demon alive would stoop to using wild magic, even to kill vampires. Why would we kill them? We made them.”

“Kill them?” I questioned. “No, they’re just sleeping.”

Still smiling, Al leaned in until I could smell the Brimstone on his breath. “If they don’t wake up soon to feed, they will die from a lack of aura. The undead are starving, Rachel.”

My God, he was right, and my focus blurred as I thought of Ivy.

“Imagine!” Al said fervently, cane swinging jauntily. “An entire city without master vampires. How intoxicatingly chaotic. It’s almost enough to make me wish I had thought of it.”

“We’ll never survive it,” Trent said softly.

“HAPA?” I guessed, knowing the Humans Against Paranormals Association dabbled in demon magic, so why not wild. “The men-who-don’t-belong?”

“It is not wild magic,” Al said, but his tone lacked conviction.

“Then what is it?” I said, tired of his attitude; just then Newt called to me as she skipped her way to us, her slippered feet sending up little puffs of dust in the hot sun.

“Rachel!” Mason jar tucked under her arm, Newt hopped a hopscotch pattern. “Do you want to put your pajamas on and have a sleepover with me?” She came to a breathless halt, the hem of her nightgown coated with ever-after dust. “Al.” She gave Al a shove, and the demon jerked, startled. “Tell the girl she can have a sleepover. You work her too hard. Look at the dark circles under her eyes.”

“It’s not because I work her,” he grumbled. “The witch can’t seem to find her way to my kitchen except when she’s in trouble. And she can’t have a sleepover!” he added when Newt began tugging on my sleeve, her black eyes glinting. “Leave off, you bitch!” he shouted, and Newt dropped back, looking hurt.

“At least this time, it’s only one world,” Newt said, and I wondered if her sudden burst of clarity would last. “I don’t know if she can do it. She looks tired already, and it’s only going to get worse.” Newt’s eyes widened. “Oh, look!” she exclaimed, looking across the dry river to the remains of Loveland Castle. “They’re starting to come out again!”

Trent jerked as Newt ran off, startled by her cry of delight.

“What the mother pus bucket is wrong with her!” Al said, peeved as she ran across the broken earth. She was headed for the dry riverbed, and she jumped right over it, red-stained white nightgown streaming out behind her. Sighing, Al looked at the jar he’d gotten from her. Handing it to Trent, he began trudging after her. Not even glancing at it, Trent passed it to me, and after a moment, I jogged to catch up, jar pressed to my side.

“Newt, love!” Al was calling. “Tell me about your fireflies!”

“That demon is certifiable,” Trent said, voice low as we lagged behind. “How can they let her wander around like this?”

Al was waiting for us at the shallow ditch, and he took the jar as I slid down, then I caught it as he tossed it to me. “Because she might just be the most sane demon here,” he said when Trent slid down after me. “I haven’t been able to decide if stress pushes her over the edge, or if when she starts digging into her past, she simply loses her way, but usually it’s because she’s remembered something important.”

I started up the other side, startled when Newt’s face, somehow both sickly and lively, peered over the edge at me. “Rachel!” she crowed, a thin white hand extended to help me up. “I think they like you!” She pulled back before I could take her hand, and I scrambled up, jar tucked under an arm.

“Oh, so pretty!” Newt was saying as she danced, her bare feet among the stones and her hands in the air as she caught nothing. “Look at them light up!”

“Newt . . .” I started, then my head snapped up as the prickling of wild magic flowed over me. Goose bumps rose, and I set the jar down to help Trent. “Get up here!” I hissed, then gasped at the feeling of sexual titillation that poured through me as his hand smacked into mine. “Holy crap,” I breathed.

“Rachel?”

I yanked him up, sitting down where I was as his hand left mine and he stood at the edge of the gully. “Can you feel that?” I squeaked, waves of sparkles cascading through me. It was wild magic, stronger and more unfocused than I’d ever felt before. It was easier to bear if Trent wasn’t touching me, but disconcerted, I held that glass jar to me and just sat there, wishing it would both stop and never end.

“That’s . . . what is that?” Trent said as he watched Newt dance in delight, shivering.

“Feel what?” Al snarled as he stood beside Trent. “I don’t feel anything.”

“Wild magic,” I said, still sitting as the sensation began to ease. “It’s the wave. It’s happening.” Alarmed, I looked at Newt. “Newt!” I called. “Don’t do any magic!”

Spinning and dancing, Newt laughed, the sound pulling all expression from Al’s face. “Look at them!” she sang, catching nothing. “They’re swarming! Hurry! We need them for when the sky falls!”

“Wild magic?” Al whispered in a sudden horror, and I yelped when he yanked me to my feet. “You little bitch!” he shouted, shaking me so hard I lost my hold on the jar and it fell, breaking. “I told you to leave the wild magic alone!”

“You’re hurting me!” I shouted, and Newt turned, her dancing stilling to a cold silence.

“He is an elf!” Al raged, his grip becoming even tighter.

“I haven’t done anything!” I protested. “Al. Let me go!” I couldn’t do magic. Not with the wave still over us.

“Let her go! You’re hurting her,” Trent said, and the demon’s grip tightened, his eyes almost black in the sun.

“And you’re going to make me?” Al said, each word drifting into existence with the sound of falling dust.

Grim faced, Trent stood before us, the hair falling into his eyes as sparkles seemed to dance between his fingers. Al shoved me from him, and I lurched to keep my feet. The demon was hunched like a bear, his feet easing deeper into the ruined earth. Don’t do this, I begged them silently as I backed up. Please don’t do this.