The Witch With No Name (The Hollows #13)(47)
Author: Kim Harrison

“But he doesn’t have anyone,” Bis complained, then giggled as Buddy licked him.

My eyes are closed. How do I know Buddy is licking Bis?

“She’s just tired,” Trent said again. “Come on. We could all use a shower.”

I nodded, my head falling onto Trent’s chest. I was too tired to think, but a shower sounded good.

Chapter 10

I can’t. Allergies,” Nina shouted over the wind from the backseat of my MINI Cooper. It had been closer than Trent’s car at Eden Park, a relief to get back even if I wasn’t driving it.

Jenks’s wings drooped as Bis leaned to see the dog, wiggling on Ivy’s lap. “You don’t look allergic,” the pixy said, and Nina made a prissy, fake sneeze even as she rubbed Buddy’s ears. The top was open, and the dog was enjoying himself, tongue hanging out and his tail smacking into the back of my seat with a regular rhythm that nearly matched the clicking of the turn signal. We were almost to the church, thank God. Even with the top open it smelled like vampire, burnt amber, and stinky dog. Reason two for taking my car instead of Trent’s.

Nina was in too good a mood for my liking: too good, and too in control. I didn’t think Felix had the presence of mind to be dipping into her thoughts right now, but it felt as if the worst was yet to come. In contrast, Ivy was tense, her motions edging into that vamp quickness she always took great pains to hide from me.

Trent had driven us to the church despite my protests. I’d counted six yawns from him so far. Bis was on my lap, expression mournful as Jenks continued to try to get someone to take the dog home. Jenks was right. We had enough strays. Rex could take care of herself in a pinch, but Buddy was high maintenance.

“Carport?” Trent asked when we found our street, and he took the curve fast, shooting into the covered spot on momentum. The headlights flashed and bobbed as we careened to a stop, and I braced myself, startled when Bis jumped into the air. Trent wasn’t angry, he simply liked driving my car to its fullest extent.

Ivy and Nina didn’t wait, Nina swinging her legs up and over the side of my small car and to the cement before using her vampire strength to lift Ivy carefully to the walk. “This way, Buddy!” Bis called, and I heard the happy sound of clicking nails and jingling tags.

“This isn’t going to end well,” Jenks said sourly before he darted up and out. “Bis! Keep that dog in the garden until he pees on something! Tink loves a duck, you don’t bring someone into the garden who doesn’t know how to bury their own crap!”

I watched Ivy slowly manage the front steps with Nina’s help. Seeing me with Trent, she smiled softly as Nina yanked the door open, the woman’s chatter never stopping as they went in. Finally the door shut. We were home, but I was too tired to move. My smile faded.

The keys jingled as Trent handed them to me. “You want me to carry you in?”

His tone was amused, but the sad thing was, I was tempted. “Give me a minute. I’m just tired.” Tired and not wanting to have to go in and deal with the mess.

“Me too.” He yawned again. “I’ll call a cab to get back to Eden Park. I don’t want to leave you without a car.”

“Thanks. Take Jenks with you, okay?”

His phone hummed, obvious in the midnight silence. Taking it from a pocket, he silently looked at it, sighed, and tucked it back. “Ellasbeth?” I guessed, and he nodded.

“If it’s important, Quen will call. Huh. I think I left my briefcase in the ever-after.”

He had, but I wasn’t going to suggest we go back and get it. I knew I should be in a better mood, but I was just so tired. “Do you think Cormel will hold to his agreement?” I asked. Maybe that was what had Ivy uptight.

“To the letter. He won’t go to the demons, though. He’s going to talk to Landon.”

“Let him. I’m done with it.” Expression sour, I pulled my shoulder bag from the floor. Landon’s charm had been perfect, but he’d known I’d have to make contact with the Goddess to finish it. That’s why he’d given it to me. Son of a bitch . . . “Trent, the mystics recognized me.”

Trent was silent for half a second, and then he moved, his motion fast as he got out. “I think I left my tablet inside. I should get it before I go.”

“You saw them, didn’t you?” I said, confused. He hadn’t ignored me, but burn my cookies if he didn’t look . . . scared. Our doors shut almost together, and I gathered my resolve. I wasn’t going to let this go and possibly fester. “You and Jenks both,” I said as I met him at the back of the car. “The mystics.”

Eyes on the street, Trent looped his arm in mine. “Yes.”

My pulse quickened. “Is it bad?” I asked, that same nauseous feeling clenching in my stomach as the memory of that black nothing I’d felt rose up. Jenks’s call and Trent’s arms had brought me back. It felt as if I had nearly fallen into shadow. “Trent . . .”

“They follow you like puppies,” Trent said softly, our steps slowing. “Ever since we captured Felix’s soul in the ever-after. Are . . . they speaking to you?”

He was afraid, and I shoved my own fear aside. I knew I’d seen Bis and Buddy with my eyes closed, both of them on the floor as Trent carried me out. It had been a compilation vision of at least a dozen mystics, cobbled together and presented to me in a way that my mind could interpret naturally—sophisticated and practiced. They weren’t the Goddess’s mystics, but the ones that Newt trapped in reality so they couldn’t poison the Goddess. They were alone and unable to become, but the alternative was their complete obliteration. But had I heard them? No, the connection had not been that deep.

“No,” I said softly, and Trent breathed a sigh of relief.

“Good,” he said, his fingers finding mine in the dark as we walked to the church, lights flickering on inside to show where Ivy was. “I don’t think you should do wild elf magic.”

I gave him a sideways look as I opened the door. “You think?” The warmth and light spilled out, and I squinted as we went inside. Trent’s hand was on the small of my back, and I listened for not-there voices telling me about the scatter pattern of the photons, but my thoughts were silent. Safe? I thought, then, with a touch of melancholy, a more certain empty.

“Oh, Rachel,” Trent said, somehow knowing as he pulled me into a hug right there in the foyer. “I’m so sorry.”