The Witch With No Name (The Hollows #13)(92)
Author: Kim Harrison

“It’s business,” Landon said dismissively and turned to Cormel. “Well?”

The vampire leaned back into his chair, making it creak. “The living are fascinating,” he mused aloud. “You both seem to think you have leverage. You don’t.” He licked his lips to show his teeth. “I don’t trust you, Landon.”

“You didn’t kill them!” Landon shouted, and I shrank back when Cormel stood.

“You are lying!” he thundered, and the guards outside in the hall came in. “I’m not going to kill them. I don’t have to. All you need is control of the dewar, yes?”

Cormel wasn’t going to kill us. Great. Somehow that didn’t thrill me. Trent paled, and I put a hand on his shoulder. The stored energy in his chi tingled through me, and I felt our balances equalize. Neither of us could make a circle, but we had at least one good spell each.

“You will stop lying to me,” the vampire said, motions smooth and controlled as he ghosted out from behind the desk.

Landon backed up, jerking when one of Cormel’s thugs shoved him forward. Cormel closed the gap. “I know you lost control of our souls,” the vampire said, reaching to arrange Landon’s collar. “You didn’t force them back because Rachel and Trent still live. You let them slip away. Blaming them to cover your error is disturbing.”

I barely breathed as Cormel leaned in toward Landon. “If you have control of the dewar, can you bring them back?” Cormel asked. “The truth.”

“Y-yes,” he stammered, and Cormel smiled, giving his face a little pat. “But the dewar won’t side with me while he lives.”

Cormel turned his back on us to retrieve his coffee. “And the demons?” Smiling, still smiling, he leaned against his desk, looking at me over the rim of his coffee cup.

Landon’s attention shifted between Cormel and Trent, clearly nervous. “I can force all of them except Rachel back to the ever-after,” he said. “I can then close the lines so the ever-after will collapse, taking the demons with it.”

He wants to kill the demons, too? I shook my head in disbelief. “You’d end all magic?” I said softly. “What in hell are you afraid of, Landon?”

Trent was the only one still sitting, and it made him look like he was in control—when he clearly wasn’t. Or was he?

Landon sneered, telling me he was afraid. “Don’t be stupid. I wouldn’t end magic forever. With the entire dewar and enclave backing me, we can reinstate the Arizona lines.”

Jaw dropping, I followed that through. He’d hold the entirety of Inderland hostage with the threat of destroying the lines if he didn’t get what he wanted, when he wanted, whenever he wanted. Beside me, Trent made a small noise of appreciation, and I tightened my grip on his shoulder. Okay, it was a great idea, but not for us.

“The lines are dead. You can’t reinstate them,” I said quickly, wondering if Cormel had us down here to affirm or deny Landon’s claim. “Why are you listening? He wants you dead.”

Expression ugly, Landon took a step away from the thugs. “Nothing is impossible.” He turned to Cormel. “And nothing happens until I control the dewar.”

Cold, I gripped the back of Trent’s chair. Cormel’s eyes traveled over all of us, and with a little sigh, he pushed into motion. “We can take care of that right now,” he said as he pulled open a drawer and brought out a folder. “Kalamack, where are your daughters?”

“My daughters?” Trent echoed, and my first fear that Cormel was threatening them vanished. They were with Al. Nothing could harm them.

“With a demonic babysitter, I believe?” Cormel drawled. Landon looked awfully smug all of a sudden, and I tensed.

“As a matter of fact, yes,” Trent said, and I snatched the papers that Cormel was extending. Trent reached up and took them from me before I could read them, but then my jaw clenched as I saw the first few lines.

“Child abuse?” I spat. “Are you kidding?”

Cormel leaned back in his chair. “No. Mr. Kalamack is accused of child abuse for putting the girls in the care of a demon.”

“You can’t do that!” I exclaimed, but by Trent’s pale face, I thought they not only could, they had.

“Criminal neglect and endangerment,” Cormel was saying. “He may as well have dangled them from the top of the I.S. tower. Not a good choice, Morgan. Your idea, wasn’t it?”

No, it had been Trent’s, but I’d thought it was a good one. “They aren’t in any danger! Al isn’t going to hurt them!” Trent let the papers fall, and I scooped them up, hands shaking.

“Kalamack’s actions are being seen as a political stunt to show demons in an uncharacteristic and false light. Of course, we can avoid all this . . . if you return our souls yourself?”

I froze, my stomach knotting. Son of a bitch. Ellasbeth was going to have the girls within the hour.

“This is for both girls.” The scent of spoiled wine pushed out the vampiric pheromones. My pulse pounded as Trent stood and took the papers from me. “Ellasbeth can’t claim Ray,” he said, dropping them on the desk. “She’s not her child.”

Landon edged forward as Cormel spun the paperwork to him. “Lucy was the firstborn, was she not?” he said, peering over his glasses as he sat down and fumbled for a pen. “There should be sufficient dewar support with just the one girl.”

“This isn’t about power!” Trent exclaimed, and Cormel looked up from crossing Ray’s name off the paperwork. “Lucy is my child!”

“Not anymore.” Cormel lightly flipped through the pages and initialized the changes.

Horrified, I stood by the chair. This was my fault. They were doing this because of my association with Trent. He was trying to find a way to live with demons because of me, and it was costing him everything. Damn you, Ellasbeth. Do you even know what you’re doing?

Cormel slid the pages back in the folder and closed it, an ageless hand resting atop it protectively. “Produce Lucy, or you will not leave this room.”

My God, he was going to give Lucy to Landon. The girl was a living symbol of the elven future, and whoever raised her held her power until she was old enough to hold it herself. Scared, I sized up the thugs by the door. I’d had worse odds and fewer assets, but one of them was Trent—and I recognized an odd panic. There’d be no ley line this deep underground. I had only one spell’s worth of power spindled, but when Trent reached up and put a hand on mine, I felt a jolting tingle. Lips pressed, he pushed more energy into me, and shocked, I remembered Trent had a familiar. He had access to a line, and through him, I did, too. Not so helpless then . . .