The Witch With No Name (The Hollows #13)(42)
Author: Kim Harrison

“Relax, it’s a dog,” I said again, trying not to watch Bis crawling in along the ceiling. He’d been downstairs with Nina, and if he was here now, then everything was okay.

“I can tell it’s a dog,” Cormel said sourly as his men clustered around the one who’d been bitten, his hand cradled protectively close. Felix’s eyes had dilated to a full, hungry black. I frowned, anger finally finding a toehold in my anxiety and shoving it down.

“I mean, it’s Buddy, the dog that lives here, not Luke or Marsha under a transformation curse,” I said, and Cormel’s eyes narrowed even as he beckoned to one of his people.

“Remove him,” Cormel said, pointing. “He belongs in the pound.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, there, vamp boy.” Jenks darted to the center of the room. “This is his turf, not yours. If someone got bitten, that’s not the dog’s fault.”

Trent dropped his hand below the bottom of the chair, and Buddy stopped growling to sniff it. “He’s probably just hungry,” Trent said, and I watched, surprised when he stood and went into the kitchen. “You hungry, Buddy?” he called, voice high, and Buddy thumped his tail.

“Everyone leave him alone,” I said when Buddy slinked out from under Trent’s chair, skulking into the kitchen when Trent began opening cupboards, looking for his food.

“We don’t have time for this,” Cormel said dryly.

“You want him out, right?” Trent’s expression was calm as he searched. “That’s not going to happen until he trusts you. He’s probably not eaten for days.” His attention went down and he smiled. “You need a bath, Buddy. Where have you been?”

Jenks hovered over them, and I watched a camouflaged Bis inch into the kitchen, intrigued. “Dumpster, by the smell of it,” Jenks said, fingers pinching his nose. “And the river. Cats are better, even if they do try to eat you. They at least keep themselves clean.”

Trent found a bag of food and Buddy whined, nails clicking. “Good boy. Here you go.”

The kibble clattered into a salad bowl, and Trent set it down with a disarming look of satisfaction. Jenks on his shoulder and Bis clinging to the ceiling beside the fan only added to the odd tableau. All three watched him eat, and then Trent bent to shake even more into the bowl.

Smiling, I turned away, shock a cold slap when I found Cormel had moved and was sitting in the chair right beside me, staring. Holy shit!

“Right,” I said, smile gone, and Cormel nodded for me to get on with it. “Ah, he needs to be prone,” I said, glancing at Felix, the undead vampire glaring malevolently at me, apparently not appreciating the kindness to stray dogs.

Two of the men by the door came to shift him, seeing that his hands and feet were bound.

“Soon, Felix,” Cormel crooned when Felix began to struggle. “Soon. Give her a chance to work. I’ll remove your gag if you promise not to howl.”

Felix’s eyes were entirely black, but when he nodded, Cormel patted his hands, taking a small jackknife from his pocket and cutting the gag himself. Jenks and Trent hastened back to the living room, leaving Buddy to growl at the vampire inching forward to grab him.

The gag fell away. “She stole it,” Felix said, his voice crawling down my spine as he fixed his unblinking eyes on me. “Make her give it back. It’s mine!”

Cormel patted his shoulder and stood, the knife tucked inside his overcoat along with the gag. “She didn’t steal your soul. She captured it so she could fix it properly.” He turned to me. “Isn’t that right, Morgan?” he threatened.

I nodded, glad when Trent took the chair behind me again. “Keep him there,” I said, not liking Cormel being this close. “If I’m interrupted, his soul will return to the ever-after.”

“You might lose it?” Felix exclaimed, his alarm sparking my own fear. “Give it to me! Now!”

“I’ll lose it if you interrupt me or take the scarf off your face before I tell you to.”

Stark fear marred Felix’s young face, giving me a glimpse of what he might have been. Cormel shot me a look to be more gentle before he leaned over Felix and patted him on the shoulder. “She won’t lose it, Felix,” he said, reminding me that for all their casual disregard for the lives of those they destroyed, they had a weird sense of protection for those they deemed worthy of it. That their children seldom entered that category was indecipherable vampire logic.

Trent leaned over me, the lingering scent of ever-after obvious. “I should do the charm. You’re better at defense than I am,” he said, almost breathing the words.

Jenks’s wings were clattering in worry, and I wished he’d park it somewhere. “No,” I said, thinking back to Trent’s numb shock of capturing Felix’s soul. I was the demon here. I could do it. “As long as no one interrupts me and he doesn’t remove the cloth until I say, it should be fine.” Chin rising, I looked over the room, not liking how many people were in here. “I need to anoint anyone who’s staying in the room with spider silk so his freed soul isn’t attracted to them. I’ve only got a few strands.”

Jenks rose up, arms crossed. “I don’t need any. No vampire soul will find me.”

Cormel gestured at his thugs, and I breathed easier until I realized all of them were heading out, leaving just him to maintain control of Felix. And the bastard smiled at my unease. “Kalamack?” he said, almost taunting. “Are you staying?”

My pulse quickened. Rule number one: never be alone with a master vampire. Misunderstandings were often fatal. “He’s my spotter in case I need help.”

“You are unsure of the charm?” Cormel said, and I lifted my chin, thoughts of Landon’s inexperience and hidden agenda warring in me. The man wanted me dead. What in hell was I doing trusting that his greed for recognition would keep me safe?

“I’ve never done it before,” I said, my unease coming out as anger. “Trent is here in case there’s a snag. Got a problem with that?”

“Can we get on with this?” Felix growled, and Trent pulled his spelling cap out, hastily arranging it on his head before pulling his ribbon from a pocket like a magician. Draping it around his neck he sat down, his ankle going to his knee and settling back to look confident and unmoving. Buddy trotted out from the kitchen, and no one said anything as he flopped down at Trent’s feet with a happy sigh. Trent gave Cormel a mute look, daring him to protest.