35
“Er, can I get you something else?” Mark said from behind the counter. “We’re technically closed for Thanksgiving, but I won’t tell if you don’t.”
Closed. That was how I felt in a word. I took a shuddering breath, not trusting myself to say anything as I sat at the back table in Junior’s, numb. One of my hands was on the table, wrapped around a long-cold untouched coffee. My other was cradled about Bis on my lap. He was still breathing, but he had no aura, no warmth. And when his tail curled around my finger in an unconscious reaction, I choked, throat tight.
Trent stood, his empty cup in hand. “I could use a refill. Rachel, you want a warm-up?”
I said nothing, and after giving my shoulder a squeeze, he went to the counter. His soft voice against Mark’s was a bland background to the nothing my life had become.
I didn’t remember Trent calling the car after walking out of the church, much less getting into it. I barely remembered Trent helping me out of it at Junior’s. I did remember that it had taken two fifties to get Mark to unlock the door, but now I think he was regretting the decision.
I knew about regret. Little regret, like not remembering to send your mom a birthday card. And the whopping big regret, like trusting your boyfriend with your summoning name and ending up in Alcatraz. But this, I thought as I looked at Bis curled up on my lap. This was going to break me.
I blinked fast, trying not to cry. Somehow, Bis was still alive without his soul—comatose and chalk white but alive. Most people would have gone to a bar to lose their memories in a numbing wave of alcohol. Not me. No, I didn’t want to forget. Maybe if I remembered, I wouldn’t be stupid and try to fix everything. But I doubted it.
“You sure you don’t want something?” Trent said, and I looked up, not having realized he’d come back. He set two steaming cups on the table, and I finally let go of my cold one. “You haven’t eaten in . . . a while.”
Eat? I thought, chin quivering. My vision began to swim, and I held my breath.
“Oh, Rachel.” He sat beside me, scooting closer as I dropped my head. “We will find a way to separate them,” he soothed as he tugged me closer. His gaze was on the baby bottle sitting atop the table like a weird centerpiece. It contained nothing I could see—and yet it held everything.
I won’t start crying again. I won’t. My head began to hurt, and I exhaled in a slow, measured movement. “Why did he do it?” I said, voice low so it wouldn’t break. “He knew it would kill him.”
Trent gathered me to him, almost rocking me. “Because he loved you,” Trent whispered, and my throat closed. “And he’s not dead. We’ll find a way to get him free.”
Okay, he wasn’t dead, but this was almost worse. I tried to take a new breath, but it escaped me in a sob. I tried to pull away, but Trent wouldn’t let me, and I let go, crying in great, gasping, ugly sounds against his shoulder as he ran his fingers through my hair and made shushing noises.
“This is my fault,” I said around my sobs. “I called on the Goddess to break Weast’s amulet. And then I used elven magic to try to bottle the baku.” I looked up, seeing the shared pain in his eyes. “Why did he do it?”
“I know it hurts,” he whispered, pulling me closer, and I hid my face against him again.
Even as I melted into him, I wanted to lash out at Trent. How could he know? The only things he’d ever loved that needed him to survive were his girls, and they were fine.
But then I remembered his agony in Ku’Sox’s lab, the knowledge in his eyes that he had failed. He’d taken the entire elven species into his circle long before he’d known me. The orphanages, the camps, the illegal medicines that funded the research to bring his people back from extinction: they needed him to survive. They might fight him every inch, but they needed him. And there were failures every day, large and small.
Finally my sobs slowed and I took a slow, clean breath, then exhaled, trying to let go of my heartache. But under it was even more crushing regret. Feeling it, Trent pulled me tight, grounding me without saying a word.
“He was my responsibility,” I said, my voice broken as I used one of Mark’s scratchy napkins to dab up the tears that wouldn’t stop. “How do you do it?” I asked, and he sighed, his grip on me easing without letting go. He smelled like green under the layer of smoke and sawdust, and I blinked up at him. “You’ve made yourself responsible for all of them,” I said. “To keep them alive. You know you can’t. How do you live with it?”
Still he said nothing, and I answered my own question. You do what you can, and what you can’t do, you learn to live with.
But this was Bis, and I couldn’t. My breath shook as I pulled away and wiped my eyes. “I’m glad you’re here,” I whispered, and his grip on my hand tightened.
“Where else would I be?” he said, expression pinched.
I held my breath, struggling to start right back up again. But then Mark groaned softly as the door chimes jingled, and I sniffed, blinking fast when Ivy strode in, phone to her ear.
“I’ve found her. She’s at Junior’s,” Ivy said in her dust gray voice, and I wadded up the napkin, numb and spent.
Trent gave my hand a squeeze and stood as Ivy wove between the tables. The new day was bright behind her and worry was in her eyes as she tucked her phone into a back pocket. She was still in her working leathers, slim and sexy, looking as if she would rip someone’s throat out for me if I asked. It was good to have friends. Bad when being such shortened their life-spans.
“I’m going to get you something to eat,” Trent said to me, nodding at Ivy’s dark glare. “Ivy, you want anything?”
“Black coffee. Thanks,” she said as she sat down across from me, and Trent slipped away. His hand was already reaching for his phone as he settled in before the counter, where he could see me and the parking lot both.
My head drooped, and I said nothing. She knew. She had to know. The heartache in her eyes was too deep to not.
“You should have called me,” she said softly.
I looked up, feeling as if I’d been dragged behind horses. “What would you have done?”
Ivy licked her lips, a flash of fang showing as she watched Trent, his back to us as he quietly persuaded someone on his phone. “Taken you home instead of a coffeehouse?” she said. “I’m sorry. Rachel, I’m so sorry.” Her hand reached out to cover mine, and I choked. “The Order is trying to keep what happened quiet, but I was with Pike and Constance when the news came in. Landon is not saying anything, either. I think he’s hoping that if he claims ignorance, the dewar won’t uninstall him.”
My eyes dropped to Bis, his tail curled around my pinkie like a ring. “At least he’s alive,” I said, hardly breathing the words.
And Bis wasn’t, not really.
“I wish I had something to say to make it better,” Ivy said as her hand slipped away.
My hand fisted around one of Mark’s scratchy napkins, then relaxed. “There’s nothing to say. I asked for the Goddess’s help, and she gave it. It’s my fault.” How many times had I been warned that when you ask a deity for help, it might be answered in a way that pleased her, not you?
“Your fault?” Ivy made a scoffing sound. “Rachel, I’m the first to say you make a lot of mistakes, but Bis made his own decision. The Goddess had nothing to do with it.”
I said nothing. I knew better.
“How is he still alive without his soul?” she said when she looked around the edge of the table, and the pain rushed right back, taking my breath away in its shocking suddenness.
Mark was coming over with a cup of takeout for Ivy, sparing me from answering. Ivy reached for her coffee, frowning at me until I took a sip of that new skinny demon grande that Trent had given me. “Thanks, Mark,” I said, putting off the tears with the sweet cinnamon taste, and after hesitating a moment, Mark retreated.
“I don’t know,” I said when I thought I could talk again. “Maybe gargoyles are different. They were created by the demons. Maybe they can survive without a soul.” My gaze rose to the scratched baby bottle. “There has to be a way to get his soul out without letting the baku out, too.”
“What part of we’re closed don’t you get?” Mark muttered from behind the counter, and I followed his attention to the dawn-bright parking lot. A black car had pulled up, two severe-looking men scrambling out of it as they chased after Zack and the sparkle of pixy dust. The kid was decked out in a new suit, but he was still in his sneakers. His big feet were probably hard to fit on such short notice. His eyes were wide in worry and his hair in charming disarray. It reminded me of Trent, and I glanced at him on the phone beside the front door as the chimes jingled and they came in. Crap on toast. What was I going to tell Jenks? I’d sent him away because I was afraid I’d lose him, and I ended up losing his best friend instead.
“Rachel!” Jenks darted from Zack’s shoulder, coming to a dust-laden, wide-eyed, almost panicked stop at the table. “I’ve been looking for you all night.”
“I wanted to be alone,” I said as Trent closed his phone and came over with a bag of something from the cold shelves.
“That’s swell. That’s fine. We can be alone together,” Jenks said, words tumbling over themselves as he landed on the table beside the bottle. It was as tall as him, and I averted my eyes when he touched it, wings drooping. I was going to start crying again. I knew it.
“Rache, I’m sorry,” Jenks said softly, surprising me. “He made his own decision.”
I looked up, my throat tight as Trent slipped back onto the bench, his arm going behind my back to give me a quick tug into him. “I don’t want people to sacrifice themselves to save me,” I said, trying to be angry, but it wouldn’t come.
“Too damn bad, witch,” Jenks said. “You’d do it for us. Have done it. It sucks like steaming green troll turds on the Fourth of July, but deal with it.”
“Sing it, pixy,” Ivy said, assessing Zack as he came to a fidgety halt at the end of the table. He was clearly trying to figure out what to say, but at least his security had given us some space.
“He’s alive?” Zack finally said, and I nodded, hand curved possessively around Bis. “Maybe you can put his soul back,” he added.
I followed his gaze to the soul bottle. “It’s mixed up with the baku’s. I don’t know how.”
“But you’re a demon.” Zack sat down as far from Ivy as he could get. “Maybe Hodin can.”
It was nice hearing him suggest that without fear, but a flash of annoyance lifted though me. I wasn’t happy with Hodin. He’d left. He’d just left. Sure, he didn’t owe me anything, but who leaves like that?
The click of Mark locking the front door was loud, and he double-checked that the closed sign was lit. I appreciated him not kicking us out, and managed to give him a thin smile as he came up to the table, hands smoothing his apron. “Can I get you something, Sa’han?” he asked, and everyone’s eyes went to Zack. Zack, though, was oblivious.
“He’s talking to you,” Trent finally said, and Zack flashed red.
“Oh! Uh, do you have hot chocolate?”
Mark seemed to stifle a wince. “We’ve got cocoa,” he said. “That’s pretty close.”
Zack fiddled with cuff links in the shape of the dewar seal. “With marshmallows?”
Mark’s smile began to look pained. “How about whipped cream?”
“Stellar,” Zack said enthusiastically, and Mark’s shoulders slumped.
“Coffee okay for the two of you?” Mark asked loudly, and Zack’s security up front made happy noises and settled at a table in the sun.
Ivy’s eyes flicked from the soul bottle to me. “Have you been here all night?”
I nodded. It had been hours ago, and a flash of guilt went through me. “Shouldn’t you be getting ready for Thanksgiving dinner or something?”
“Nina didn’t go shopping,” Jenks said, now sitting on the soul bottle as if in protection. “There’s nothing but a can of baked beans and some dried-up carrots in the upstairs kitchen. You don’t want to know what’s in the downstairs kitchen.”
“What’s in the downstairs kitchen?” Zack predictably asked.
“I said you don’t want to know,” Jenks said pointedly.
“Sorry,” I muttered. I was ruining everyone’s holiday. Even Mark’s. And a pang of heartache pulled my eyes down. My eyes closed, and my hand cradling Bis under the table trembled. The hard way was going to break me someday. But not today.
Trent’s grip on me tightened as he leaned in, his hopeful smile doing nothing to hide his worry. “I’ve talked to my lawyers. Dan is fine, and both he and Wendy agreed to not file assault charges, seeing as we were trying to save Landon. Landon is pretending ignorance, but there’s been no talk of giving him the dewar back, and I think Zack is it.”
My gaze turned from an embarrassed Zack to Trent as I realized he’d been putting out fires while I cried into my coffee. “Thank you.” I was a shitty person. I had completely forgotten about the two people we’d assaulted in the dewar’s stairwell. But Trent didn’t.
“One hot cocoa,” Mark said as he set a whipped-cream-covered grande before Zack.
“Thanks.” Zack reached for it eagerly. “They haven’t let me have any sugar since putting me in this zookeeper suit.”
“Ah, sure.” Eyebrows high, Mark retreated to deliver the twin cups of coffee to the guys by the door comparing phone screens.
Ivy, too, had her head down over her phone, and I wondered why everyone was here horning in on my misery. “Mark,” Ivy called out, and the kid jerked as if she’d slapped him, almost spilling the two coffees. “When you get a moment, I need a venti salted caramel. No rush.”
“You got it,” he said with a sigh.
“Salted caramel?” Jenks’s wings hummed, dust spilling from his bent wing.
My misery deepened. “You called Glenn? Thanks.”
Ivy snapped her phone closed and tucked it in a back pocket. “There are fire trucks at the church. You don’t think the FIB has been looking for you? I told him you were fine, and he said he wants to see what fine looks like today.” A smile hinting at her relief threatened to show.
I stiffened with a sudden thought. Crap on toast. Al. I’d been sitting here for hours, and I’d forgotten to tell the demons that the baku was in a bottle. I reached for my pocket, hesitating when I remembered Al was under house arrest. I didn’t have Dali’s number. But Mark might. “Ah, Mark?” I said loudly, and he smiled at me from behind the counter.
“You want me to tell Dali that you’re okay?” he said as he made Glenn’s latte, and I nodded, quite sure I didn’t like how cavalier he was about phoning demons. But the kid was Dali’s boss.
“If it’s not too much trouble,” I said, and Jenks snorted, his bent wing leaking dust all over the table as he sat on top of Bis’s bottle. “Could you tell Dali that the baku is in a bottle and to let Al sleep?”
“You got it.” Mark pulled off his gloves and reached for his phone, clearly resigned to having lost his day off.
I hated to admit it, but between the coffee and the weird normalcy of Jenks begging Zack for a wad of whipped cream, I was starting to feel better. Zack looked utterly fantastic in a teen-crush sort of way in his suit and his new, hesitant confidence, miles away and just next door in comparison to the scared kid I’d found eating leftovers and hiding in my church. Seeing him with Jenks, I found a sliver of hope. If he was in charge of the dewar and they actually let him make some decisions, things might change.
The memory of Bis swam up, and I quashed it in a flood of hurt.
“So they made you the dewar’s Sa’han,” I said to distract myself, and Zack’s head snapped up, a faint flush on his cheeks. “Did you learn what you wanted to about Trent in your little walkabout?” I asked between sips of coffee.
“Ah.” Zack wiped the whipped cream from his lips when Jenks pantomimed the same. “He’s everything that Landon said he was,” he said, green eyes flicking to Trent sitting beside me, head down as he surfed the net.
“Sexy.” Jenks rose up with a wad of whipped cream on his chopsticks. “Smart. Good with magic and kids.”
Trent looked up from his phone, his fingers stilling and a smirk on his lips.
“Ruthless in his drive,” Zack added uncomfortably. “Willing to sacrifice what shouldn’t be for an end that might not be worthy. Landon was right.”
“He wants the elves to succeed,” I said as I gave Trent’s hand an encouraging squeeze when his smile vanished. “There’s nothing wrong with that.”
“Then maybe we should stop trying to put him in jail for it,” Zack muttered from behind his hot cocoa as if afraid to say it louder.
“See, Zack?” Jenks said cheerfully. “I told you there wasn’t some old dried-up elf soul in you. No way, no how would one of those old moss wipes say anything like that.”
Zack colored, but I privately thought there probably was. He’d been too good with those healing charms. No one had died, and even I wasn’t that good.
“Zack?” Mark called from behind the counter. “Can you give me a hand? I need your opinion on something.”
Whatever that something was, it smelled like Thanksgiving, and Zack immediately stood, taking his nearly empty cup with him. “Sure.”
Trent, too, stood, lingering until I looked up. “Do you mind if I make a few more calls before Quen gets here with the car?” he said, hand on my shoulder. “Things are going to start happening fast now that the dewar has scheduled a press release for tomorrow. I want to head off the rumors and arrange for a closed-door meeting tonight to explain what happened. I’d like you to be there if you feel up to it. And if you can get Hodin to come, all the better.”
My eyes narrowed, and my hand cupping Bis under the table twitched. “I’ll be there, but don’t count on Hodin,” I muttered, and Trent nodded, excusing himself to sit at a nearby table.
“What’s up with Hodin?” Jenks said, and my anger flooded back.
“He left Trent and me in the lurch when the Order showed up,” I muttered, and the pixy’s wings hummed into fitful motion. I’d have liked to blame him for what happened, but honestly, I probably would have tried to work with the Goddess anyway, and I took a gulp of my cooling coffee. “Did I tell you I had a dream a few days ago about Ray getting married?” I said, my eyes dropping to Bis curled up on my lap, and Ivy brought her attention back from the sunny empty streets. “Bis was there, grown to the size of a pony,” I whispered. He would have been about seventy. Just about old enough to be on his own.
“Rache, we’re going to get him back,” Jenks said, and then he stiffened. “Al’s here.”
Even with his warning, I jumped when Al popped in at the in-out circle at the back of the store. “Why are there fire trucks at your church?” the demon bellowed, and I winced, not turning. I could tell by his overdone accent that he was probably in full green-crushed-velvet regalia.
Mark grimaced, a tray in his hand as he stood before the oven. “I am closed,” he grumbled, then asked Zack to get two more sandwiches out of the freezer.
Sighing, I turned to Al. Sure enough, he was in his top hat and full coat and tails, his blue-tinted glasses doing nothing to hide his sleep-deprived fatigue. “Because it was on fire?” I said, and Al grimaced. Resigned, I pushed a chair out for him.
“Dali said you bottled the baku.” Al tugged his lace down at his cuffs and stepped forward. “Is that it?” he said, looking at it on the table before turning to Junior and Zack behind the counter, one in an apron, one in a suit. “Demon grande in porcelain, if you please,” he said, then frowned at Trent, still on the phone. “Damn elf lives with that thing stuck to his ear. Tell me, Rachel, does it remove it for sex?”
“Demon grande!” Mark said, and a bell above the register rang of its own accord.
“Excuse me.” Ivy rose, eyes on the Jeep that had quietly pulled into the lot. “I want to talk to Glenn before he lands in this.”
I nodded, and she touched my shoulder before slipping from the table and sauntering to the door. Zack’s security noticed, watching her all the way. The click of her undoing the lock was loud, and from behind the counter, Mark sighed—at the new customers, not Ivy.
“This should be interesting,” Jenks said, and I blinked fast when he came to sit on my shoulder smelling of green things and whipped cream.
Shoes tapping, Al halted at the head of the table. “My God. It’s really in there?” he said, making no move to touch the soul bottle. “How did you do it?” he asked, and Jenks’s wings buzzed against my neck. “Dali is green with curiosity. Even Newt didn’t know how to manage it.”
She does now, I thought as I took the bottle in hand, and Al visibly stiffened—as if I held a poisonous viper. I was trying not to care that the church now had smoke damage in addition to everything else. I should just walk away before I burn it to the ground, I thought, but the church was the first time I’d felt a part of something big, something wonderful. Even if I did keep destroying it.
“I broke the rules—that’s how,” I said, unable to look up from the swirling pearl and blue behind the glass.
Al sat, his head tilting as he touched my chin and forced me to look at him. “Rules. You captured the baku. No one has ever done that. And totally unharmed.” His fingers curled under themselves, and I looked away. “Where is my coffee!” he bellowed, and I jumped.
Jenks darted from my shoulder, wings rasping. “Bis is comatose without his soul,” Jenks said, hovering belligerently in front of Al. “But yeah, she’s unharmed. You demon weenie.”
“Bis?” Al said, and steeling myself against the heartache, I looked down at him curled in my lap. He looked as if he was sleeping, and it hurt.
Damn it, I’m not going to cry in front of Al, I thought as I pulled myself together. “His soul is right here,” I said, focusing on the blue bottle instead. “It’s mixed up with the baku’s. Bis dragged it in there with him. Is there any way to separate them?”
Al peered at me over his glasses, a familiar, angry glint in his eyes. “You caught it by sacrificing your gargoyle?”
My chin lifted. “Seriously? You seriously think I asked Bis to do this? He did it on his own before I could tell him to stop.” I hesitated. “Is there any way to separate them?”
Hope stirred, but it was short-lived as Al looked at the bottle, his goat-slitted eyes unreadable as he touched Bis’s head with a finger and shook his head. My throat grew a lump. “His body slumbers. Curious.”
I stifled a flash of anger, but it was Jenks who rose up, almost snarling. “Curious, hell. Can you separate his soul from the baku or not?”
Al shot a peeved look at Jenks, then softened. “I don’t know. The baku makes things difficult. You won’t find anyone in the collective eager to try. We’ve all lost kin to it. Ah, here’s my coffee. Thank you . . . Zack, is it?” He grinned, but it looked forced. “I do enjoy being served by elves. It makes one feel so alive.”
Frowning, Zack backed up, returning to the counter as Mark called for him.
“Don’t listen to him, Rache,” Jenks said, again on my shoulder. “We’ll get Bis back.”
I blinked fast as I shifted my hand, and Bis’s tail tightened about it.
Al cocked his head, clearly surprised at the band of white around my finger. “Keep him safe. I’ve never seen such a reaction from a body without a soul.”
“I will.” My hand curved more protectively about him.
“We both will,” Jenks added, and Al sat back, apparently satisfied as the door chimes jingled and Ivy and Glenn came in.
“Rachel, I’m sorry about Bis. I should have spelled Weast with his own magic and made him listen,” Glenn said as he and Ivy crossed the coffee shop. “Is there anything I can do?”
“Thanks, no,” I whispered, and my shoulder went warm from Jenks’s dust.
“Condolences are not required,” Al said as Ivy sat at the far end of the table and pulled her coffee close. “The world breaker lives. We will find a way to bring his soul home.”
I grimaced, but damn my dame if I didn’t feel better with Al’s thin promise. “I don’t know what I’m going to say to his father,” I said.
“Etude?” Al’s eyes tracked Mark bringing Glenn his coffee. “Tell him you’re working on it. Bis is stronger than he ought to be because of you. But I think Etude will thank you.”
A surprised burst of dust slipped down my shoulder, and I almost choked on my drink. “For letting his son sacrifice his soul to save me?” I blurted, and Ivy slipped me a napkin.
Al’s shoulders lifted and fell as his gaze went distant out into the sunny parking lot. “It’s long been a question if gargoyles—having been created by demons—possessed a soul. Bis has proved that they do. If he didn’t, the baku would have not been snared and bottled.” Al’s eyes came back to me, and I read the truth in them. “Bis has given his entire species a great comfort. And as I say, we will work to free him.”
I took a slow breath, feeling it shake as I exhaled. Al thought it was possible. Hell, he thought it more than possible. And until then, I would keep him safe. Both Jenks and I would.
“No one in the collective will help.” Al stared at Bis’s tail for a moment, then returned his attention to his coffee. “Still, there are texts lying about no one has looked at for thousands of years.” He hesitated, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. “Hodin might.”
“Really?” I blurted, and then Al pushed back from the table, standing to slam his fists on the top to make Jenks ink dust and the bottle threaten to fall.
“You have seen him!” Al bellowed as I scrambled to grab the bottle and keep it from falling. Pulse fast, I stood, holding it and Bis tight to me as I slid out of the back of the booth. Trent ended his conversation and stood, and Zack’s security made a beeline to him. “This is his fault!” Al shouted, his eyes narrowed as he scanned the room as if looking for him. “That backstabbing, elven-rutting gigolo convinced you to treat with the Goddess, and now your gargoyle is lost and your church has fire trucks parked at the curb! Where is he? Odie?” Al yelled at the ceiling.
“That’s not what happened.” I backed up to find Trent standing behind me, grim-faced. Jenks was on my shoulder, and I held Bis and that bottle tight. “Al, I swear—”
“Show yourself, you little worm, or I’m going to sell you to the nearest elf!” Al bellowed.
And then I yelped when a soft pop of air pushed me back a step.
“Again?” Hodin said wrathfully as he stood in the center of the room, his slim build looking dangerous in his black jeans and T. A hint of purple magic flickered through his fingers, and my hair crackled with static. “Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice . . . Well, you won’t get the chance because I’m going to send you to hell, Gally.”
Glenn and Ivy slid out of the way, but I stood firm with Trent beside me. “Guys,” I started, then yelped as Al yanked heavily on the nearest ley line, almost buckling my knees with the power he drew to life. He didn’t even bother harnessing it with a spell, just marshaled the raw energy into his hand and threw it at Hodin.
White-faced, Mark pulled Zack to him and invoked the protection circle at the register. Zack’s security dove behind the counter. Their pistols were out, but honestly, they were the least of my worries as the ball of energy sped harmlessly under Hodin when the demon vanished into a black hummingbird.
“You little pus bucket!” Al shouted, now swinging wildly at Hodin as he dove at him, plucking bits of hair and stabbing at his ear. “Putrid elven bootlicker!”
“Enough!” I shouted, and then, with Bis pressed to me, I flung a hand out. “Corrumpo!” I shouted, the expanding force of air flinging the hummingbird that was Hodin to smack into the window and knocking Al to a hand-reaching stagger. Mark yanked Zack back below the counter, but the kid immediately popped up, shoving Mark into his own circle to break it. Eyes wide, Zack started for me, only to be tackled by his own security and go down with an indignant yelp.
“I said, enough!” I shouted when Hodin, still a bird, shook himself and started for Al. “Al, leave Hodin alone.”
“He is a liar and a cheat!” Al snarled, his hat gone and his glasses askew to show his bloodshot goat-slitted eyes. “And he’s going to die. Right now!”
“Then you will have to go through me,” I said, and Al spun comically fast. As he stared at me in horror, I felt a shiver run through me.
“Ra-a-ache-e-e-el? What did you do?” Al intoned, and Hodin flew to hover beside me, where he turned back into his usual broody dark self.
I glanced at Hodin, then took a step from both him and Trent. “I, ah, promised to stand up for him if the collective got ugly,” I said. “And that includes you.”
“You what!” Al bellowed, thick hands fisted. “What did he give you? Something you already had, I bet. Something you could have found on your own, or something I could have given you.”
“You never gave anyone anything.” Hodin sniffed and pushed his rings to the base of his fingers. “And truly, what did you expect? Your student’s life was in danger, and you abandoned her for nearly a week?” He shook his head, his hair falling to hide his eyes in a mocking, threatening peekaboo. “From the same thing you were hiding from. You don’t deserve a student this talented. She did what no one else has ever done.”
“At what cost!” Al shouted, and I winced. He was beginning to hurt my ears. “You are a worthless hack of a demon, fit only for bedroom games and little more. Rachel is mine.”
Hodin’s jaw clenched, his eyes narrowing.
“Ah . . .” I held up a finger. “I don’t belong to anyone, guys.”
Al turned to me, hunched and frustrated. “Fine,” he said as he swooped up his hat and brushed cookie crumbs from it. “But this. . . . demon—and I use the term loosely—is a loathsome, betraying liar unable to best even the weakest elf. Which is why he slept his way through the revolution that gave us our freedom, playing sex games and eating fruit and meat while we starved and suffered from exposure. I will not let you ruin yourself by associating with this . . . milksop sexpot!”
Jenks made a snorting scoff from my shoulder, and the dust spilling down shifted to an amused gold.
“No need,” Hodin said, his expression twisted as if he were smelling something rank. “As long as the collective leaves me alone, I’ll take the baku for safekeeping and leave you to your pathetic cosmic powers. None of you suffered as I did under it. It’s mine.”
I pressed back into Trent, glad for his light hand at the small of my back. Jenks was a threatening hum on my shoulder, and Ivy had made her way back to us after having convinced Glenn to sit it out with Zack and his crew behind the counter.
“You are not touching that bottle,” Al threatened, and Hodin grew smug.
“It’s mine,” Hodin said lightly. “We have a deal. Don’t we, Rachel?”
Al’s expression faltered. “You didn’t,” he said, but I’d had enough, and pushing forward, I stood between them, pissed to the Turn and back. Bis was in my arms, and my heartache fed my anger. Boys. They were acting like spoiled boys.
“This is mine,” I said, holding the bottle in one hand, Bis in the other. “Mine! Neither of you is getting it until Bis’s soul is back in his body.”
“We had a deal,” Hodin said as he turned, his anger at Al shifting to me.
“Yep.” I cocked my hip, angry at both of them. “The deal was that you get the baku after you teach me to fly with Bis.” I hesitated, satisfied when Hodin’s gaze dropped to Bis and he lost his bluster. “Fix this,” I said, softer this time. “I can’t fly with him unless he has a soul.”
Hodin’s stance became unsure. “I don’t know. . . .”
Al laughed, the ugly sound making me shudder. “I don’t know,” he mocked. “Truer words have never been spoken. Very good, itchy witch,” he added, and I went cold at the hate in his eyes. “I’m proud of you. It’s hard to get the better of one of Odie’s deals. We will talk about this unfortunate problem of standing up for him before the collective, but you did reasonably well.” His lip curled as he looked at Hodin. “Hodin has more than the usual share of guile and trickery. Give me the baku. It goes in the vault.”
“It goes on my shelf,” I said, and Al’s hand dropped, his ugly smile faltering. “Until I fly with Bis,” I added. “And then it goes to Hodin.”
Hodin sniggered, standing more confidently.
“I forbid it.” Al looked Hodin up and down in disgust. “I’d rather give it to that troll under the bridge at Eden Park.”
“Hey!” I shouted as I glared at him, and Jenks laughed, choking it back when Al’s gloved hands fisted. “Don’t criticize me and what I had to do to save your ass. You were hiding in a hole.”
“Save my ass,” Al said, and I took a step closer, giving the bottle to Trent so I had a free hand to poke him in the chest.
“Save. Your. Ass,” I said as Trent pulled me back before I could actually do it. “If not for me, you’d still be there.”
Hodin chuckled, and I rounded on him.
“And you!” I said, face warm as his expression suddenly went empty. “You left me when things got sticky. You know what?” Pulse fast, I looked back at Al. “I want both of you out of my life. You both left when I needed you. The only person who stuck it out was Trent, so if I hear one more shitty comment about elves and their lack of trust, or worth, or the dangers of calling on the Goddess, I’m going to shoot you both to the moon!”
“The moon, Rache?” Jenks questioned, but I was mad.
“You will both get out of this store and my life!” I shouted, and Ivy winced. “You leave me the hell alone until you idiots make up, shake hands, and . . . make me a cake together!” I shouted, echoing what my mom had said when Robbie and I had fought. “I’ve had it with both of you!”
“If it means he gets the baku, then I won’t help you separate them,” Al said.
Furious, I stomped my foot and yanked harder on the line. “Get out!” I shrilled, hurt that he’d put his hate for Hodin before me.
Al left in a puff of foul smoke, taking his coffee with him. Hodin was gone when I turned back, but I’d expected nothing less. Pulse fast, I wavered, suddenly breathless.
“I did it,” I said, and Trent took my elbow to help me back to the table. “I told them both to leave, and they did.”
“I guess you showed them,” Trent said, but his smile seemed real, and I basked in it. “Rachel, if there’s a way, we will find it,” he promised, and I nodded, blinking fast as I looked at Bis, safe in my arms.
“To Bis,” Ivy said, raising her paper cup of coffee. “Never has a truer soul existed.”
I sat down before I fell over, overwhelmed as the love I felt for them washed over me. Shaky, I lifted my own lukewarm coffee. “To Bis,” I whispered, one hand curved about him on my lap. “We will bring you home.”
Silently we drank to the little gargoyle, and I swear I felt his tail tighten on my finger.
Trent’s eyes were on mine as he lowered his cup, and he leaned closer, whispering, “I was going to wait until tomorrow, but I can’t. Now that my mother’s spelling lab is open, I want to give it to you.”
“Give it . . . to me?” I stammered, and Jenks chuckled as if having already known. Rising up, he flew to Zack, Glenn, and Mark, who were headed our way with trays of steaming sandwiches in their hands.
“So you have a place to work,” Trent said, the rims of his ears becoming red. “Just until the church is fixed,” he added as if to convince me, and Ivy smiled. “And who knows?” He ducked his head, his eyes swimming with love when they rose again to find mine. “If you find you like my mother’s spelling lab, you can stay.”
I couldn’t look away from him, breathless. He didn’t open it for Ellasbeth. He opened it for me, I thought, not knowing what to say, much less think.
“You don’t have to answer now,” Trent said as I stared at him blankly. “You might want to stay at Piscary’s for the winter since Ivy and Nina are headed for DC, but I wanted to give you the option. It’s there if you want it.”
Want it? Of course I wanted it. But it was a big change, one that I could never go back from. “Trent . . . ,” I stammered, not knowing what to say, much less think.
But Mark and Zack were setting down paper-wrapped sandwiches smelling of Thanksgiving, and I smiled, the lightness of hope trickling through me.
“On the house,” Mark said as he began to hand them out, the scent of turkey and stuffing wafting up to remind me how long it had been since I’d eaten. “Corporate sent them over to test in a mixed-species setting, but they weren’t a big seller. Tomorrow, they will be even less.” He winced. “Uh, I’d appreciate it if you’d fill out a like-dislike card before you leave.”
Glenn swung a chair from an adjacent table around and sat so close to Ivy that their elbows jostled. “I’ll take one,” he said, and Ivy curved a hand familiarly over his leg to make his ears redden.
“One looks about right,” she almost purred, and Jenks laughed from my shoulder.
“Hey, Rache,” Jenks said as he dropped down and helped himself to the half sandwich that Mark had set in the center of the table for him. “How about that? Thanksgiving dinner. Right here at Junior’s.” He stabbed a cranberry on the tip of his garden sword and pulled it forth. “Couldn’t have planned it better. No dishes to clean up, and everyone is here.”
Smiling my thanks, I took the sandwich smelling of turkey and stuffing as Zack and Mark settled themselves. My eyes went down the table, finding peace as the conversations began to rise. Ivy and Glenn seemed to have a new understanding, and I wondered if he was going to stay in Cincinnati now that he had left the Order or follow her and Nina to DC. Trent was to my right, where he’d been for a very long time, only now there was a contented satisfaction in him I’d never seen before. He had given me something I needed—something that would protect me by allowing me to protect myself. Jenks sat in the middle of the table beside that bottle as if guarding it, razzing Glenn and Ivy even as he kept an eye on the parking lot for trouble.
They’d all come looking for me, bringing me hope that tomorrow was going to be better than today even if it was going to be new and different. Everyone I cared about was here.
Except Bis, I thought, jamming the hurt down deep. But I knew that with my friends, I’d be okay. Hodin would figure out how to separate him from the baku. Al would get over it. With Ivy gone, I could move into Piscary’s for the winter and Jenks could come home. Unless I took Trent up on his offer and moved into his compound, complete with a space for just me. My God. I can go anywhere from here.
Blinking fast, I looked down the table, listening to my friends smooth the ugly parts of my life into a background nothing that could be forgotten. That big something wonderful that I thought the church held . . . was right here at this table.