Pale Demon (32 page)

“You’re killing me, Ivy,” I croaked, throat so tight it hurt.

“Payback is hell, isn’t it?”

I tried to say something, failing.

“Just say you’re welcome,” Ivy said, standing up to look out the window at nothing.

There were lots of things I wanted to say, and none of them was “You’re welcome.” I wanted to say that I was going to lick this. That nothing was going to change. That this was just a bump. But when my gaze focused past her and found the blocky gray shape of Alcatraz, I didn’t know if it was true. Feeling a sense of mild panic, I stood.

Ivy turned. Looking at me, she leaned in and gave me a hug. I held my breath so I wouldn’t start crying, so I didn’t breathe in her soothing vampire scent, but I knew it was there. My arms went around her, and I had a fleeting thought that she felt small for such a big person.

Reluctantly Ivy let go and dropped back. “I hope you get your shunning rescinded. I hope we drive back, taking our time and actually sleeping. I hope that nothing changes. But even if we can make all those things happen, let me go. Right now. I need to move on and find something good that I can hold on to.”

I stared at her black eyes. She’d come a long way. We’d never have been able to have this conversation last year. “But—”

She leaned in, taking my face in her cool hands. “This is good-bye, Rachel.”

Oh, shit.

I knew what was going to happen, and I let it. Ivy’s lips met mine, and my eyes closed. My heart gave a thump. Her lips moved against me, tasting lightly of coffee. All the tension that had been winding up in me unraveled in a rush of endorphins, followed by a spark of adrenaline, glowing through me like pixy dust.

For the first time, there was no fear from her vampire teeth, no worry of the promise of ecstasy and danger she held. She was just Ivy, and her hand slipped to my waist, pulling a ribbon of feeling through me. My blood rose, pounding, responding to her touch. She smelled like incense and soap. She held me to her without binding, without promise, only passion in her embrace. Her mouth was soft, unbelievably soft.

Blood humming, I felt her tongue whisper against me and her grip quiver against my jaw as the scent of her tears lit through me. Salt and blood. Oh so close, and my own closed eyes spilled over as my body ached. She began to pull away, I realized I was tasting what I could have had—but now was gone. And it hurt.

Feeling it, Ivy let go. I blinked, trying not to cry. Even as she stood there, I’d lost her. Even though she’d never been mine, now she was gone. I didn’t want anything to change, but I couldn’t stop it. She was right, even if everything went perfectly tonight, nothing would be the same tomorrow.

“You’re not leaving me,” she said, her eyes damp. “I’m leaving you.”

The knock at the door shocked both of us, and I stifled my jerk when Ivy turned to it with her vampire-quick reflexes. I wasn’t thinking, the heat of that kiss still aching. She looked at me, her soft smile the last thing I would have expected from her right now.

“I’ll get it,” she said, motions like an old jazz song as she drifted past me in a wave of happy vampire.

“Damn it, what’s wrong with you, Ivy?” I said, shaking.

“Nothing. I feel good. Hell of a good-bye kiss.”

Good-bye kiss. God, she had me in the ever-after already. “Whoever it is, don’t let them in,” I said, wiping my eyes. “And we’re not done talking here.”

“Yes, we are,” Ivy said as she looked through the peephole. “It’s your mother. And some guy with red hair.”

“Robbie?” I jumped up and started for the door. “Let me see,” I said as I got close, and she shifted away.

In the hallway, looking anxious in a yellow sundress and a straw hat, was my mother. Beside her was Robbie, his hair slicked back and a pleasant expression on his face. “It’s my mom!” I said, reaching to open the door. It cracked open, and then it slammed shut, slipping right out of my grip.

I turned to Ivy, and I heard my mother huff through the door. “Ivy!” I protested, her black eyes setting me back a step.

“That’s not your mom,” she said, and I got cold.

I
stared at the closed door, hearing a muttered conversation behind it. “What do you mean, that’s not my mom?” I asked Ivy again, my voice hushed, and she shrugged.

“How would she know you’re here? You call her? I didn’t.”

No, I hadn’t, and I looked through the peephole to find her and Robbie discussing things. “She knows I’m somewhere in the city,” I said. “She’s crazy, not stupid, and the press probably knows where Trent is staying.”

“Rachel?” my mom called. “I want to talk to you before your trial, sweetie.”

Ivy shook her head. “She’s not swearing. And when has Robbie ever been happy to see you?”

I frowned, squinting through the peephole to try to see my mom better. Her shoes didn’t match her dress, and Robbie was still smiling. It was the last one that did it. “You’re right.” Raising my voice, I shouted, “Nice try! Go away!” I dropped down to my heels, feeling like the little goat who didn’t let the big bad wolf in to eat her.

“Is Trent there?” the man who wasn’t Robbie asked, his voice off.

Ivy leaned toward the door. “No,” she said belligerently. “Whatcha going to do about it?”

I smacked her shoulder with a huff, and she blinked innocently at me. The growing rim around her eyes vanished, and I backed up a step. “What did you tell them that for?”

“To hurry things up. I want to see the sunset over the bay this evening.”

I sighed, leaning to look out the peephole again, but I only got a glimpse of them, their heads clustered over a glowing ley-line amulet, before I flung myself away, pulling Ivy with me.

Her shout of protest was drowned out by a loud bang, and the heavy steel door burst inward, landing askew on the front couch in the lower living room.

“Holy crap!” I exclaimed, struggling to find my balance as I held Ivy’s arm. I reached for a ley line as the door frame smoked, but the energy source oozed through my mental fingers like slivers of broken mirror. It hurt, and I scrambled to fill my chi with the nasty stuff.

The smoke cleared, and I let go of Ivy when my mother and Robbie came in. It was obvious it wasn’t them, and I frowned when I recognized Wyatt and that young coven witch behind them. Son of a bitch, Trent had been right. They were going to try to off me.

“You!” I exclaimed, then yelped, ducking and trying to set a circle when Robbie pulled a small air gun from his jacket pocket and pointed it at me. Holy crap, they
all
had air pistols!

The circle around Ivy and me gave a hiccup and died. It just flickered and went out. Shocked, I just stood there as Ivy snatched the serving tray from the coffee table. The last of the crackers and cold cuts went flying as she pulled it up to intercept the splat ball. It hit with a ping of sound and a hiss of magic. Yellow foam bubbled, quickly turning black as the salt in the air interfered. Her lip curling in a sneer, Ivy threw the tray like a lopsided Frisbee at my not-mother.

Drawn gun dropping, my not-mother jumped out of the way, knocking into Robbie and ruining his aim. His splat-ball shot hit the ceiling. Trent was going to be ticked. The tray thunked into the wall and stuck, quivering. It would have broken a couple of ribs easily. Whatever was in those splat balls Robbie was shooting was nasty. Robbie, hell. It was Oliver. I could tell by the way he snarled and shouted, “Shoot them both!”

“Down!” Ivy hissed, jerking me up the steps into the upper living room and behind the couch.

“My circle didn’t hold!” I said, feeling betrayed as I took them in. There were four of them. Oliver looked like Robbie. That was probably Amanda posing as my mother, seeing that I recognized Wyatt with his steely brown eyes and stern expression, and the last geeky-looking witch—Leon, if I remembered the papers right.

“You couldn’t wait until tonight, huh?” I shouted, then ducked down behind the massive swivel TV that was almost a room divider. Yellow froth bubbled where Ivy and I had stood, and four new splatters outlined the angle of their reach. Ivy smelled of excited vampire as she crouched beside me, her eyes going blacker by the second. My bag was on the couch. There was nothing in it to help me anyway.

“I thought you said earth magic didn’t work on the coast,” Ivy said breathlessly, and I yanked her back down when I heard twin puffs of air.

“It generally doesn’t,” I said, running through my repertoire of magic tricks and coming up short. They had timed this perfectly. No wonder they hadn’t tried to kill me on the way. This was the only place I’d be helpless. “But they’re coven,” I said, eying the mass of black bubbles and trying to guess how long it took for the salt in the air to naturally break the charm. “You know, best of the best. All they need is for the charm to work long enough to get close enough to kill us.” I looked at her, starting to get worried as I listened to Oliver’s demands for us to come out. “How long does that take?”

“Three seconds if you’re not resisting,” she said grimly.

Yeah. That was about what I thought, too. Damn it, where was Pierce when I needed him? Mr. Black Magic Man would be helpful right about now.

The splats had stopped, and I wasn’t surprised when I heard Oliver say, “She’s not coming out. You go that way, and I’ll go the other.”

Ooh, they were going to split up. Bad life choice. I looked at Ivy, thinking we might be able to salvage something. “I’ll take the two guys. You take my mom and Robbie.”

Ivy’s focus became distant as she used her ears to place everyone. “No offense, Rachel,” she whispered, “but your mother is going down.”

I nodded, but Ivy was already moving, a scream coming from her as she dove over the spell-tainted carpet and back to the broken door. I rose, seeing her stand from a roll right in front of my shocked mother. Kicking at Wyatt, she backhanded my mom, sending her sliding into the wall beside the quivering tray. Amanda’s arms splayed awkwardly, and the gun slipped from her grip and hit the floor. Ivy snatched it up, grinning as she turned.

The men had scattered, the more levelheaded Wyatt going for the bathroom where he could get a better shot at me, the less experienced Leon diving into the kitchen to hide behind the eat-at peninsula. Oliver, seeing that gun in Ivy’s hand, dove for the kitchen as well.

“Hey!” I shouted, standing tall and then ducking to evade Wyatt’s shot. Oliver peeked above the counter, shooting wildly, almost hitting Ivy. Grimacing, she grabbed Amanda as the poor woman struggled to find her feet, still dazed from hitting the wall. Oliver’s next spell hit her square on. Amanda’s eyes widened, and then she slid into oblivion, her anger at Oliver dissolving into a spell-induced coma.

“Shoot her! Shoot the vampire!” Oliver demanded, and Wyatt peeked from around the bathroom door. His range wasn’t as wide as he probably liked, and he needed to expose himself if he wanted to get a good shot at me. But it wasn’t me he was aiming at, and I threw a vase at him. My eyes narrowed when it bounced off a quickly invoked circle and broke on the tile. Either he was used to the crappy lines here or he was using a familiar.

Peeved, Wyatt shot at me, and I ducked back, but it gave Ivy the second she needed to find cover. She was beautiful with adrenaline as she slid back to me, rocking to a crouched halt in the lee of the TV. “I got you something,” she said, smiling as she handed me Amanda’s gun, and my gaze darted to Amanda, out cold. The spell wasn’t breaking as fast as I thought it might. Must be strong stuff. I bet she’d be ticked for having been taken out by one of Oliver’s spells. Again.

“Thanks,” I said as I hefted the weapon, then squeezed off a couple of shots in the general direction of the kitchen and bath, just to let them know I had it. “Hey!” I shouted, still eying Amanda. “What you got in these splat balls, boys?” I asked. “Is Amanda going to be okay, or should we call a time-out?”

“Cover me!” Oliver screamed at Leon, and Ivy snickered at the young witch’s refusal. Just because you’re good at magic doesn’t mean you like to risk your life. Wyatt poked his head out, and I shot at him, the flash of his bubble deflecting it to the ceiling where it dripped to the carpet. It gave me an idea, and I aimed for the ceiling in the bathroom. Two quick puffs of air and there was an evil-looking, foaming mass hanging over the threshold and making a venomous stalactite. With any luck, it would drip on him.

“How come his magic is working?” Ivy asked.

I pressed deeper into the shelter of the TV. “He’s used to the lines here.” I wished I was. But in all fairness, his bubbles weren’t lasting long, either. Maybe that was the trick to it.

“Hey, Ivy,” I said, a sudden thought coursing through me. I couldn’t tap a line worth a damn, but I knew a spell that used just quick bursts instead of long, drawn-out pulls like a circle. Maybe if I kept spindling power, filtering it, as it were, I could do something. “I’ve got an idea,” I said, turning the gun over and opening the hopper.

Ivy’s confused expression softened to one of amusement as I shook a little yellow ball into my palm, clearly remembering our games in the graveyard where I deflected splat balls shot by Ivy and thrown by the pixies. All I needed was some ley-line energy and a focusing object. “But you can’t tap a line,” she protested as I jammed the hopper back into place and handed the gun to her.

“I can. I just can’t hold on to them for very long,” I said, shifting my shoulders as the broken energy seeped in, filling my chi and spilling over to be spindled in my head. My damp hair would stay flat, not giving me away. “Here, you take the gun, I’ll deflect what they shoot.” I didn’t need Pierce. We could do this together, like we always did. Relying on him had made me soft.

Ivy’s smile grew. “Ready?” she asked, ducking as a splat ball zipped inches over her.

I wasn’t, but she had already leapt into motion, the little
pop-pop-pop
s of compressed air joining her howls as she made the jump to the broken door and propped it up to hide behind. I stood, the splat ball lightly held in my left hand. “Hey!” I shouted, and heads turned.

His eyes alight, Oliver shifted to aim at me. My heart pounded. Four puffs of air sounded loud, but my hand was moving already, the thumb and pinkie showing direction and distance, the three middle fingers giving my spell strength.
“Iacio!”
I shouted, feeling a drop in my chi.

My ley-line spell hit the splat ball headed toward Ivy, and the yellow plastic bounced as if hitting a wall, deflecting back to Wyatt. His eyes widened as he pulled back, and the ball vanished somewhere inside the bathroom. I could do this. It would work!

“Iacio!”
I shouted again, and I bounced a second ball at Leon. The man ducked back behind the kitchen peninsula, his brown eyes wide in fear.

“Rhombus!”
I shouted, and the two shots from Oliver simply hit my bubble as I ducked, not willing to trust it. The balls slowed, as if hitting cotton, then fell unbroken to the carpet.

“Rachel!” Ivy shouted, and I spun, hand raised to ward off Wyatt’s next shot. I didn’t have enough time for a spell, and my circle was sputtering out its existence. I dove for cover. His shot went wide as he pulled back too soon, ducking behind his own circle for an instant. Crap, this wasn’t working, but even as I prepped to deflect another charm, I watched the glob I put on the bathroom ceiling
finally
drip.

Wyatt jerked as the spell hit his head, reaching up to touch the cold spot, his expression shifting to alarm. His eyes met mine, and I stood, hearing Ivy shooting at Oliver and Leon. “Son of a bitch,” Wyatt said, hatred in the expression he directed at me, and then his eyes rolled back and he dropped.

Two down. At least until the charm broke from the salt in the air.

Grinning, I pulled heavily on the shattered lines, spindling energy that tasted like broken rock deep in me. Ivy was out of ammo, and she threw her gun down in disgust. Still, she didn’t hide behind the door, but boldly strode forward to the kitchen, beside me.

My brother’s thin face that Oliver wore was red and ugly as he stood in the kitchen and shot at me, backing up as I came forward. His eyes became more and more frightened and his shots wilder as I absorbed his magic in quickly invoked bubbles I took down as soon as his magic hit them. I felt like a demon, unstoppable, and a part of me was worried even as I enjoyed the sensation.

“Why won’t you die!” he yelled at me, and I backed him up past Leon. The young witch was crouched in the corner, his gun shaking. But Oliver still didn’t get it. Four coven members reduced to two, soon to be one, all because of a little more knowledge, and it wasn’t even black. I could spindle ley-line energy, and they couldn’t. It had made all the difference.

“You need to shut up,” I said, and feeling Ivy behind me, I swung my foot in a wide crescent kick. That Oliver still looked like my brother was going to be a bonus.

Oliver’s eyes widened, and his mouth opened in protest as he saw my foot coming. “No!” he managed, and then it connected with his jaw.

The shock reverberated up through my leg, and I jumped back, hopping on one foot as the other throbbed, the pain a sharp stab. This was exactly why I hadn’t used my fist, and I staggered. Ivy gripped my arm, and together we found our balance. “You really need to just shut up,” I whispered, my weight on my good foot as I looked down at Oliver, out cold and slumped into the cupboards. Spots of potion hissed and subsided, and I looked up to be sure there was nothing on the ceiling ready to drip on me. I felt drained, and I frowned as Ivy let me go.

My eyes went to Leon, pressed against the cupboards. Scared, he dropped his gun and kicked it across the tile toward us. Seemed like it was all over but for the lawsuits.

As Ivy smiled at the frightened witch, I crouched before Oliver, fingering the cord to the questionably legal ley-line charm that turned him into my brother.
Expe-e-e-ensive.
Giving it a yank, I broke the chain and tossed the amulet into the sink. The image of my brother wavered and shifted, and Oliver took shape, still out cold and drooling. I rose, wishing I had some zip strips. There was a red mark on his cheek, swelling already. Damn, my foot hurt.