The Witch With No Name (The Hollows #13)(97)
Author: Kim Harrison

Al’s face was ugly when he pulled his eyes from the ball of light. “I’m three seconds away from them,” he said with a sneer. “It would take me longer to take a piss than to jump back to them. My God, you’re covered with elf shit. How can you stand yourself?”

I dropped back, ashamed and embarrassed. Trent stood beside me, a protective gleam in his eye. “We’re a little busy. You think you could watch them for a bit longer?”

Al ran his eyes up and down me again in disgust before turning to the sink and the still-running water. “I see how busy you are. No. I have to go to work.”

“Work?” I echoed, surprised. Seriously? Then I pulled my thoughts back from how much damage a working demon could do. “We’re stuck here,” I said, gesturing. “You can’t leave them until we get back. It’s the babysitter’s creed. You have to wait until the parents come home, even if they’re late.”

Al picked up one of the bugs between two careful fingers. “Ellasbeth is there,” he said, as if the bug was a mic. “She’s a parent.”

“Ellasbeth!” Trent’s hand fell from me. “Go back! Stop them! Al, she filed for custody on the basis that leaving them with you is child abuse!”

Al spun, the bug in his fingers crushed to nothing as the sting of that soaked in. “Just. So,” he said succinctly, the pain of betrayal simmering in the back of his goat-slitted eyes.

“Al!” I begged him. “You can’t leave them with her!”

“I don’t f**king care, Rachel!” he shouted, and I stumbled back. “I am a demon!”

I lifted my chin, frustration making me reckless. “Liar.”

Al’s eyes almost glowed in the light from my mystic-powered globe. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.” Trent was edging toward me as Al came forward, and I stood firm. “Now either get your butt back there until we can get ourselves out of here, or get us out of here yourself!”

“Ah, Rachel . . .” Trent was wincing, and I stiffened.

Al was toe to toe with me, and my knees shook. I stared up at him, not willing to kowtow to him anymore. So I had mystics in me. I didn’t ask for them, and they were coming in handy.

“Get out of here yourself,” he said, and I stifled a jerk when he flicked a strand of my hair. “You are disgusting,” he said with a sneer. “Slimy with elf shit. Covered in them. How do you stand yourself?”

It wasn’t really a question, but at least he wasn’t throttling me anymore.

“And you should be glad of it,” Trent said.

Al spun to him, and I took a grateful breath of air when his eyes left me. “Glad?” the demon spat, and I swear the hem of his trousers shook with his anger.

“Yes, glad,” Trent said. “Landon is trying to shove the lot of you back into the ever-after and break the lines.”

A low growl of disbelief and dismissal came from Al. “Never happen.”

Trent eased forward to come between me and Al. “What if it did? The only magic will be Goddess based. You’d have to learn wild magic or stay helpless.”

Al’s eyes flicked to me, and I shrank back. Yep, I could do elven magic. So could they, but they’d have to admit that it was stronger than theirs, or at least more versatile. The chances of that were on a par with, say . . . us making it out of here alive. That is, possible, but only after a lot of hurt and effort. “You’ve made me late,” he said darkly.

“Hey! Al!” I shouted as he grabbed both of us by the shoulder, but he was only jumping us out, and I felt nothing from the mystics even as the shadowed darkness of the room seemed to fold in on itself, replaced with the brighter warm glow of Trent’s upstairs living room.

“Thank you,” I breathed, and then my jaw dropped. “What did you let them do?” I said as I looked over the mess the living room now was.

“Ah . . . ,” the demon said, clearly surprised as well.

Trent shoved Al’s grip off him. “Lucy? Ray!” he shouted as he darted into the nursery.

“Three seconds?” I said tightly, striding after Trent.

“Well, ah . . . ,” Al stammered.

“Rachel!” Trent shouted from the nursery, chilling me. “Call the switchboard. Tell them we need a med team.”

Shit. I shoved past Al to look into the once-cheerful room. Fear made my pulse fast, but the room looked normal apart from Trent kneeling beside Quen, prone on the floor beside one of the toddler beds. Memories of seeing Quen dying in a field after trying to protect the woman he loved flashed through me.

But Quen was still conscious, and a hand reached up to grip Trent’s shoulder. “We found them alone,” he said, pain-filled eyes touching on Al briefly. “Ellasbeth had a court order and eight magic users. Jon . . . followed them. He wasn’t hurt. Better than me, I suppose.”

Better? No. But he was more savage.

“Where?” Trent demanded as he helped Quen sit.

“He’s very upset, Sa’han,” Quen choked out, then touched his mouth to have his fingers come away red with blood. “That’s not good.”

“Where!” Trent asked again, and Quen eyed him with a hot, fervent gaze.

“If we knew that, he wouldn’t have to follow.” Quen winced as he got his legs straight and tried to get up. “Ahhhhh, that’s going to hurt tomorrow.”

Trent’s exhalation was loud as he stood, arm down to help Quen stand as he looked at me. “Did you call them?” he asked me.

“No.” I turned to leave, needing to dodge around Al. “Don’t you have to go to work or something?” I said bitterly. The girls weren’t in any danger, but it still pissed me off.

“Uh . . .” Al held up a finger in thought, but his confusion was coated with guilt.

“Whatever.” Was it zero for the switchboard, or one? I thought, not remembering in my panic.

I reached for the phone. Pain ripped through me, hard and fast. Gasping, I fell, the shallow stairs cutting into me as I landed. My breath came out of me in a pained groan. Eyes wide in agony, I could do nothing as my hand shook on the upper tile floor, outstretched for the phone and cramping as fire burned along my long muscles.

It was a curse, the same smothering black that had found me on the West Coast, now rolling over me with the unstoppable strength of waves against a cliff. A bright red seeped from a cut on my hand, the sharp throb hardly noticed over the spike driving through my head with each panicked pulse of my heart. The curse dove deep, the way easy for having been in me before. It was stronger, more focused, and I took a gasping breath, feeling it tear me.