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The Witch With No Name

The Witch With No Name (The Hollows #13)(114)
Author: Kim Harrison

“I knew her.”

I leaned forward as the magic faded and reality imposed itself anew and the shattered ruin of the fountain smothered the spell. I could see a fin in the wreckage, and the curve of a graceful leg. All gone. All spoiled.

“Not everything changes, Rachel,” Al said as he stood up. “Some things just are.”

“So you won’t help,” I said.

His hand trembled as he set the chrysalis down on the broken statues. “No.”

“Then you’d better leave because I’m busy,” I said, eyes rising to a faint glimmer of pixy dust coming through the greenery.

Al said nothing, and I started when I turned to find him gone. Grimacing, I stood. Okay, some things changed, and it was up to those who cared to fight for the change they wanted.

“I’m sorry, Rache,” Jenks said as he hummed into the clearing.

“Me too.” Frustrated, I turned and went back to the spelling hut, hurt and sick at heart.

I left the chrysalis behind.

Chapter 25

The black van was borrowed from one of Ivy’s friends, and therefore untraceable past a fictional Hollows address. It smelled like Special K and blood lust under the acidic bite of disinfectant. Between that and the pheromones Ivy and Nina were dumping into the air, my vampire scars were tingling.

Looking across the front seat at Ivy, I muttered, “You need to relax,” all the while wishing the side windows would open a little more.

Ivy took a slow breath, stilling her painted nails as they drummed a frustrated staccato on the steering wheel. We’d been here for about ten minutes, and she hadn’t let go of it yet.

“This is relaxed,” Nina said, but she’d gotten up from her rear seat, moving forward with a pained slowness to avoid touching anyone. Kneeling beside Ivy, she put an arm around her back. Head tilting to rest almost on Ivy’s shoulder, she whispered something. Ivy sighed and the tension visibly flowed from her, her head thumping down to land upon Nina’s.

Happy, I turned back to retying my boots. I was glad that Ivy had someone and that it was Nina.

Ivy was decidedly polished in black slacks, white shirt with a collar, and a suit coat that was tailored to both show off her curves and scream “desk clerk” all at the same time. She’d even put on makeup. Nina looked even more professional, with bangles and a belt that I thought could be used as handcuffs in a pinch. They were going in first, coming out last, and keeping our way clean and open at all times.

But the snick-snick of a weapon being checked jerked my head back up. Nina had slipped into a seat, and Trent stiffened at the little pistol she was sighting down. “I said no weapons,” he said, leaning from the backseat with his hand outstretched.

“Rachel has one!” Nina complained as she held it close to her chest like a favorite doll. “How are we supposed to take the front desk if we can’t have guns?”

She knew darn well mine was just a splat gun, not considered lethal by the FIB or the I.S. thanks to some clever judicial loopholes. Jenks darted to her, his wings loud in the small space. “David’s got the front desk already,” he said, red dust slipping over her threateningly. “Ivy, you said she was ready for this. I don’t have the manpower to babysit her.”

Ivy sucked on her teeth, and with that as an almost silent rebuke, the zealous woman glumly handed the gun to Trent. “Can I keep my knife?” she asked sarcastically, and Trent nodded.

“Be careful how you use it.”

I exhaled as Trent put the gun in the van’s illegal “safe hole” and shut it. My eyes returned to the one-way back door of the hotel, waiting for a Were to signal us that the sixth floor was cleared; the staff in the break room for an emergency OSHA meeting; and the hotel ready to assume new, albeit temporary management. No guns. That was rule number one, four, and sixteen. This operation had an excellent chance of crashing down before we reached the end, and I didn’t want guns cluttering the issue. It was going to be hard enough to survive this.

“At least it’s not in the tunnels,” Trent said as he checked that his laces were tied.

A quiver, quickly quashed, lit through me. I liked the mix of thief, commando, and lover he had going for him. “You don’t like the tunnels?”

Coming up from his soft-soled boots, Trent lined his utilitarian hat with his spelling cap and settled it onto his head. “No. They’re damp and make me sneeze.”

“And cold,” Jenks added, looking just as good in his thief-black tights.

And cold, I echoed in my thoughts, hoping this stayed within the hotel. September was iffy for pixies, even those skilled in staying alive through a street chase as the sun went down, taking the temperature with it.

“There he is,” Ivy said, and my attention followed hers to the rear door. “Ready, Nina?”

A Were in a suit with his hair carefully corralled in a trendy ponytail was leaning halfway through the white fire door, beckoning us in. Nina started to get out, jerking to a halt when Trent caught her arm. Her lips pulled back in a snarl, and Ivy hesitated when he tugged her close, ignoring her tiny little fangs, now bared at him.

“No one dies, Nina. Especially if they deserve it. Understand?”

Her brow furrowed, and Trent pulled her closer, demanding an answer. Jenks hovered over his shoulder, and finally she accepted his dominance and nodded. Ivy took a slow breath, relieved. Nina was an odd mix now that Felix was gone, and no one quite trusted it.

“Just give us ten minutes to put everyone in a closet,” Ivy said to break the tension, but I could tell she was worried about Nina as she handed me the keys to the van and got out.

“Be right back, Rache,” Jenks said, then zipped out the side door with a sullen Nina.

Ivy’s pace was held to a deliberate, sexy stride as she went around the front and joined Nina and Jenks. I had a pang of worry that we were here alone and unsanctioned by any police force. But damn it, if we had brought the FIB into it, we’d still be arguing with Edden about vampires getting their souls being a bad thing. Even so, I hunched in guilt, wondering what that said about me. Who had changed, me or Trent? Stop it, Rachel.

“They’d better leave us something to do,” Nina complained as they neared the building, and Trent chuckled.

I licked my lips, worried as Jenks back-winged in front of Ivy and reminded her to put a box in the door to keep it from shutting. Ivy’s singsong “I got it, pixy!” was soft, and I smiled as she nudged it forward, waiting for Jenks’s approval before stepping over it. She was gone.

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