The Witch With No Name (The Hollows #13)(91)
Author: Kim Harrison

Lifting the chair under me, I scooted it forward until my knees were almost touching the desk. Sitting back, I put my ankles up on it. It was meant to bother him, and it did, but instead of pushing back, Cormel leaned forward until I could see he wasn’t breathing. “Would you like something to drink?” he said, the words precise and clear.

I took my feet off his desk and leaned over it, the flat of my arms stretched out until my fists were right under his face and I could watch his eyes dilate to a full, angry black. “Where’s Ivy?”

Trent cleared his throat. “I’d like a black coffee,” he said pleasantly. “I don’t know what Rachel wants. Second-guessing her is a mistake.”

He’d given me a way to back off, and I took it, settling into the leather chair and trying to keep my breathing shallow and avoid taking in so much vampire pheromones. My God, they were thick down here. “Coffee,” I said, and the man eased out of the room, shutting the door behind him. “Cormel, this is stupid. Felix walked into the sun. How much proof do you need?”

“Right to the point,” Cormel said, sighing. “But wrong nevertheless.”

“It will kill you,” I continued, wanting to get out of here. “Don’t ask me why, but I don’t want to see you dead.”

“Dead?” Cormel’s pupils shrank, and I breathed easier. “No, you simply don’t want to see us progress out of the trap we’re in. Felix was not sane. I am.”

“You think you’re sane?” I said, almost laughing. “The longer you’ve been sucking people dry, the harder it is to survive the trauma of your soul. Give me Ivy and I’ll see what I can do for the newly undead, but you having your soul will cause you to suncide. Landon knows it. He’s counting on it. Why are you listening to him?”

Trent dryly cleared his throat, but I fixed my eyes on Cormel, daring him to look away. His lip had curled up to show a little more fang, making me wonder if I should back off.

“Landon is doing exactly what I want,” the vampire said. “We will not perish but be stronger for our souls after we . . . adapt. Can you imagine it?” he said, eyes alight. “The power of the undead with the strength of the living?”

I thought of Nina, swaying the crowd with just that. “It’s a dream, Cormel.”

A flicker of unease crossed him. He knew, and yet he still persisted. Why? Steepling his fingers, he said, “Indications show that with enough time the emotions will fade.”

“Guilt takes forever to fade.”

“We have forever,” he shot back, and agitated, I turned to the man bringing in three cups of coffee. It smelled wonderful, and no one said anything as he gave Cormel his first, then Trent, and finally me. The man practically backed out, and my eyes narrowed at his fear.

“To live forever will elevate us, make us strong,” Cormel said, his attention on the tiny spoon as he sifted what was probably salt into his coffee. I’d be willing to bet it shifted the flavor more to a mug of warm, salty blood.

“Ask the demons how great forever is,” I said, deciding to skip the coffee.

“Yet you’ve given Ivy hope,” Cormel said. “You must believe it’s possible for the undead to survive with their souls if you gave Ivy a magic to capture hers.”

Shit, he’d found the soul bottle. “If you took it from her,” I threatened, wishing I hadn’t pushed my chair up so close. It was Ivy’s, damn it! He had no right.

“I didn’t take her magic,” Cormel said. Expression blank, he sipped his coffee. “You’ve failed to convince me of the danger. I’ll trust Landon a little longer.”

“Then you’re going to die!” I exclaimed, frustrated as he gestured for someone outside the office. “The longer you’re dead, the more wrong things you do to stay alive, and the harder it is to survive the guilt in your soul. It’s only the newly undead that might make it.”

“There is no wrong!” Cormel shouted, suddenly standing. “I’ve done nothing wrong!”

I said nothing, not having even seen him move. Trent, too, was a little disconcerted, and I grimaced, not wanting to have Cormel at my throat but needing to make him understand.

Cormel edged from his desk, a hint of confusion marring his confidence. “They gift me with their blood, their aura, their soul. How can it be wrong?”

“It is,” I said softly. “That’s why you weep when you get your soul back. You can’t have everything you want.”

“Remember that,” Cormel said as the door to the hall opened and Landon was shoved in. He looked disheveled, in the same robes I’d seen him wearing on TV. I figured he was about as happy as we were to be here, but the shimmer of satisfaction in the tilt to his head gave me pause. Slowly I stood, not wanting to be at a disadvantage. Trent remained seated, his fingers steepled and his ankle across one knee. You shouldn’t be here, I thought, worried.

Landon pulled himself straight, seeming official in his purple and green robes and that hat that Newt favored. “Rachel,” he said, giving me a nod. “Trent,” he added sarcastically before turning to Cormel. “I told you it wouldn’t last if they’re alive. Kill them or the surface demons remain in the ever-after.”

My gaze flicked to the two thugs just inside the door and back again. “We didn’t send them back. Your spell fell apart.”

“Rachel tells me you’re lying,” Cormel said, and Landon’s expression blanked. “And I believe the actual wording of our agreement was that I’d remove them from power.” He gestured to Trent. “I sent them fleeing to the West Coast. They returned and I isolated them. They have no power,” he said, smiling pleasantly. “Bring back our souls. Now.”

“The dewar is split because he lives,” Landon said, but he was sweating. If I could see it, every vampire on the floor could smell it. “I won’t bring your souls back until I have control.”

“Won’t, or can’t?” Cormel sat down, leaving Landon and me standing.

“You’ll not survive this, Landon,” Trent intoned, and Cormel turned to him in speculation. “You’ll die by your own hand. I’ll have no regrets.”

It sounded poetic, and I hid my shiver by moving to stand behind his chair. It was a good eight feet away from the desk, and I breathed easier. I didn’t like his being here. Despite everything he’d said, I’d never forgive myself if he suffered because of me.