The Witch With No Name (The Hollows #13)(77)
Author: Kim Harrison

“Or pair your men up with a demon,” I said flippantly.

Edden’s feet scuffed on the painted floor. “Ah, yes. About that.”

Jenks’s wings clattered in the new chill flowing in with the outgoing officers. “Can we go now?”

I nodded, spent adrenaline laying like a heavy coil in my middle as I waved my thanks to Mark. He was behind the counter stoically handing out drink coupons as he refused to make anything despite his being open twenty-four hours a day. Mr. Fish was probably dead from the cold in my cup holder, and I wondered if I dared a warming charm lest I cook him.

“Your folks okay, Ivy?” I asked as Nina all but bolted to the door. I really wanted to talk to her, tell her that one night of hunger was not a failure, but she wouldn’t look at me. Jenks shrugged, his shifting dust telling me he’d figured it out as well. What a pair we were; Ivy had fallen off the wagon and I was harboring mystics again.

“Ah, Rachel . . .” Edden pulled me to walk beside him, and I winced as Ivy strode out the door, her head high and jaw clenched. “Rachel, you talked to the demons,” Edden prompted.

“I’m working on it,” I said as I hesitated before going out. “You should be okay tonight unless someone gets a wild hair up their, ah, yeah.” My voice faltered as Trent breezed past. “It won’t get bad until they know if the sun is going to force them back,” I finished, voice softer.

Edden seemed pleased as he stuck his thick hand out for me to shake. It was rough, with just the right amount of strength, and I felt a moment of connection, of being needed, part of something. “That’s all I can ask for,” he said, making a “wrap it up” motion to get his men out. “Thank you. I’ll have someone get right on your arson case.”

“Thanks.” The welcoming feeling grew as I left and took a deep breath of the good Cincy air not stained with vampire or demon, but smelling of deep river and chill. Cormel’s car wheels crackled and popped over the loose stones on the pavement as they found the street and drove away. The taillights blinked red at a stop sign, and then they were gone.

I shivered, not moving as Trent handed me my bag. My stomach rumbled, and I looked at my hands. They weren’t shaking anymore. The mystics were back. “Ivy?”

Trent was right next to me, and I turned to him. “Trent . . .”

A shiver took me as he tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “We have time. All the time in the world.”

“Thanks.” Feeling breathless, I spun. “Ivy!”

She hesitated at her mom’s car, the door already open. Nina grimaced from the other side, and I paced forward, head down as I rummaged in my bag. “Here,” I said, feeling unsure and nervous as I stopped before her. “I, ah, made this for you.”

Behind her, Mark was pushing out the last of the FIB guys, locking up and bolting the door before shutting off the lights. Fingers shaking, I found the cool shape of the tiny bottle. Nina pressed jealously close as I put it in Ivy’s hand, and they both looked at it, the faceted shape catching the buzzing streetlight. “What is it?” Ivy asked, her usual hesitancy where my magic was concerned blunted.

“It’s something to catch your soul in,” I said, curling her cold fingers around it. “Keep it in your pocket.”

Ivy’s head snapped up, and I could have cried at the hope in her eyes.

“Until Felix laughs and means it, I’m not calling this a good thing, but if you have your soul in a bottle, then it’s not in the hell of the ever-after,” I said. “You don’t have to do anything, just keep it within your aura. And don’t open the top once your soul is in there.”

“You did it?” Ivy said, looking at the stop sign where we’d seen Cormel last.

“Well, we’ve not tested it,” I offered, but she pulled me into a hug, her hand fisted at my back pressing into me hard. “I can’t imagine that if you get your soul back right away there would be that much trauma.” It was a hope only, but one I clung to with the same fervent wish that Cormel clung to his lies.

She was nodding as she pulled back, her eyes dark with unshed tears, anxious to be away. Behind her, Trent leaned against the car, thoughts pinching his brow as he waited with Jenks on his shoulder.

“I’ll be at my dad’s.” She hesitated. “Unless you need me?”

Nina was smiling, but it was a thinly disguised grimace. “Cormel is going to be too busy tomorrow to worry about us,” I said, looking for my keys until I remembered Trent had them. “Dali and Newt are terrorizing Trent’s house, so I’m going over there to run interference.”

“Okay.” Her eyes came back to me, and she hesitated, looking for words.

“So it’s the younger who find their souls first?” I blurted out, not wanting her to go until I could tell her she was a good person, and she shook her head even as Nina clenched her jaw, clearly wanting to leave.

“No, it’s how close you are to your death place.”

“Cormel died in Washington,” I said, thinking he’d have a long wait if his soul had to travel only by night. Unless he went to find it.

“Only those within twenty miles of their death are reuniting, but he expects it to make it here in a week.” She hesitated. “If nothing changes.”

“That’s the same time frame he gave me to get rid of the demons,” I said, glancing at Trent when he started my car. It wasn’t a silent rebuke to get me to hurry up, but a way to get Jenks out of the cold.

Eyes holding guilt, Ivy gave me a last hug before turning away. Grim, Nina hustled to the other side of the car and got in. I backed up, reluctant to leave Ivy alone, though I knew she needed to be with her dad. Her mom would be distraught but safe. I’d found out last year that she’d died in New Orleans. It would be weeks until her soul found her.

But what made my steps slow as I walked back to my car was knowing that Cormel knew I was right, otherwise he would’ve gone to find his soul. He knew I was right, but he wanted me to be wrong so badly that he was ignoring it.

Tomorrow was going to be one hell of a day.

Chapter 18

It was anguished and alone, even as others of its ilk hovered supportively nearby—forgotten and abandoned, curled into a tight ball in the center of my presence like a lion cub seeking comfort from a dead lioness—unresponsive even as everything about her screamed memories of comfort and warmth.

I saw myself through it, my dream cycling down to this tiny spot of torment until its heartache became mine. Confusion and betrayal soaked into me until I wept, not understanding. I’d searched for so long, and now there was nothing. I’d been forgotten, like a dream finding the window shut against it.