Authors: Kim Harrison
The bracelet on my wrist jingled, and I breathed deeply for the faint scent of burnt amber still clinging to me. The band of silver around my wrist seemed to send sparkles into me, and I shivered. I could hear the pixies playing in the night, the near and far-off sounds of life in motion. Exhaling, I remembered the glory of the collective rolling through my mind, the power at my fingertips, and the knowledge that I could create something from nothing. It was gone. Forever.
“You could have all this, too, Trent,” I said, hearing the dissatisfaction in my voice. “All you have to do is quit your job, piss off the vampires, the Weres, a stupid human who knows black magic, and let a demon loose on a major metropolitan area. Oh wait, you did that.”
He laughed, but his smile faded fast. “You don’t have to keep it,” Trent said suddenly, his gaze going to my wrist. “I gave it to you so you’d have a choice, not to hide from them.”
I cringed inside, not liking that I’d telegraphed so much. “I already made my choice,” I said, but I couldn’t meet his eyes.
He was silent, buying time by tucking Lucy’s blanket up as she willfully kicked it off. “It was an awful lot of power to give up,” he said, and a flash of anger lit and died in me.
“It was an awful lot of trouble it caused,” I answered, uncomfortable as I looked over the coupons. They were expired, but the delivery guys didn’t care if you tipped them enough.
“I don’t know if I could make myself that vulnerable after making so many enemies,” he said, his gaze on the smudged counter where we’d cut out cookies.
I looked up, wondering if he was going to offer me protection, and if I could get Lucy away from him before I smacked him in the bahoogies. “Enemies are nothing new,” I said calmly. “At least no one is gunning for me. And I can still do earth magic.” He looked to the dusty bowls overhead. “Maybe I can relax for a while. Rescue some familiars out of trees for a change.”
His expression smoothed, almost becoming a smile. “I do believe that’s why you quit the I.S., remember? Boring runs?”
I snorted, nodding as I scanned the coupons. Everything was for Alfredo pizza as they tried to curry the favor of humans. “Be careful what you wish for.”
“Because you might get it.” Trent gazed at the dark square of night past the window.
The memory of that kiss we shared rose up in my thoughts, and I grimaced. “I’ll be fine,” I said softly.
“I’m not so confident,” Trent said, and he raised a hand. It was the one with the missing fingers, and I hesitated. “You’re not helpless,” he added, “but I’ve had my lawyers look into your situation, and it’s not as clear cut as you want it to be.”
“My situation,” I scoffed. Agitated, I slid from the counter to throw the coupons away. Pizza had the appeal of cardboard right now. “There aren’t any laws for demons,” I said, fidgeting. “And if there aren’t any laws for demons, I can’t break them. I don’t need a license to practice magic. I’m not shunned. I can sell stuff now. People can sell to me.”
“But will they?” he asked, his brow furrowed as he gave voice to my real worry.
Probably not.
“The I.S. is off my case, and the vamps. Jeez, Trent. For the first time, there is no one gunning for me, including you!” I protested.
“I’ll give you that.” Trent was smiling, Lucy drowsing on his lap. “But along with no legislation on the books for demons and their magic, there are no laws protecting you, either. If Rynn Cormel wanted, he could drive over here, shove you in his trunk, and drive away.”
I leaned back against the counter and crossed my arms over my middle. “That’s the last thing he is going to do,” I said, not sure I believed it.
“Probably, but he could.” Trent was looking at Lucy, but talking to me. “Anyone could. A stray dog has more legal protection than you.” His eyes met mine, and I stifled a shiver, knowing he was right. “That band of silver around your wrist makes you almost helpless, and anyone with enough smarts will know it. There are no laws that pertain directly to demons, and until there are, you are vulnerable.”
“Vulnerable.” There was that word again, and it rang through me like a warning bell. The stronger I got, the more vulnerable I was.
“You take favors from me,” he said, “but you are not on my payroll. You claim to be protected by a master vampire, but you have no ties of blood, and you saw how deep Cormel’s word went when he was confronted by the coven. Ivy can’t protect you from everything, either. You’re the alpha female of a Were pack, but you don’t live with David and refuse to take a tattoo to show affiliation.”
“What if I get the tattoo?” I said, hearing the truth in his words. “I didn’t before because it wouldn’t last through a transformation curse, but I don’t have to worry about that now.”
“A tattoo isn’t going to fix this,” he said, his eyes intently on mine. “You are a demon, but you can’t perform the magic to back yourself up. I’m not telling you that you need to take that charmed silver off to survive, but I’m asking you to stay out of trouble for a while. Lay low for about six months. I’m trying to get some legislation protecting you pushed through, but it’s going to take a while.”
Stunned, I looked at him sitting in my kitchen with a baby on his lap, his dress pants wrinkled and his shirt almost untucked. I didn’t know what to say. He was helping me? For nothing? “Why?” I asked, and he stood, agitated as he began to pace with a sleeping Lucy.
“Just six months,” he said, not answering me. “David and I can’t keep slapping Band-Aids on the chaos you leave behind. The lawsuits alone—”
“Lawsuits?” I asked, my arms untwisting from my middle. “Who?”
“Who doesn’t matter…,” he said evasively.
“Who?” I said loudly. “I want to know who tried to sue me,” I said softer when Lucy’s hand rose, startled by my voice.
Shifting Lucy to his shoulder, he began to rock without moving his feet, a movement new to him but as old as fire and having the grace of a thousand years. “There was one from a woman about dog theft,” he said calmly. “And a couple from my wedding. That’s how I got involved. Someone on a bus thought you hexed them with bad luck. Two people sued when you crashed your car into the bridge.”
Hands clenched, I turned to the window, wanting to hide how disturbed I was. I owed David a big thank-you. I knew he’d been paying my lawyer, but I hadn’t realized I’d been keeping him so busy. And how did Trent figure into it?
“The one concerning the Rays’ fish went away when I brought it up at a party,” Trent continued, answering my unasked question. “The harassment lawsuit from the Howlers for magicking their field…That was harder. That woman doesn’t like me.”
I shrugged. “They weren’t going to pay me,” I muttered.
Trent sighed. “You getting your five-hundred-dollar fee cost David several thousand,” he said, still rocking, his damaged hand pressing into Lucy, holding her close. “He’s not begrudging it, but it supports what I’m saying. I’ve got my people working on getting some laws on the books for you, but until they do, you have all the drawbacks of being a noncitizen and none of the protection. And that’s not even bringing up the fact that for every person looking for monetary compensation, there will be at least two looking to take you on for the notoriety.”
My head came up. “What?”
He shrugged, Lucy on his shoulder. “A demon with no magic? You are irresistible, and there will be idiots lining up to prove they’re stronger than the great Rachel Morgan, demon banisher and savior of San Francisco.”
I didn’t like his mocking tone, but what could I say? “I understand,” I managed flatly, not knowing how I was going to iron out this new wrinkle. Six months. I could do nothing for six months.
Trent relaxed, his rocking easing. “Good. Thank you. I appreciate that.”
“What choice do I have?” I said, eying my charmed silver. “The check from the Withons?” I guessed, and he nodded.
“And if you ever do want to come work for me—” he started, ruining the moment.
I exhaled, now realizing why he had been blocking the lawsuits. He
still
wanted me to work for him.
“Shut up, Trent, before I smash your face,” I said lightly, not a whisper of threat in my voice. “Do you want to stay for pizza?”
Trent sucked in his breath, and an alarmed expression filled his face. “Good God, no,” he said, making me laugh.
He was tidying Lucy’s blanket, showing all the signs of getting ready to leave, and all of a sudden, I didn’t want him to. “Thanks,” I said, standing forlornly next to the sink, not knowing what to do with my hands. “For everything.” He looked at me from under his bangs, and I made a weak gesture. “I suppose I could have done without you releasing Ku’Sox, but thanks for picking up the pieces and putting me back together.”
Trent was drifting to the door, moving slowly because of his cast. “You’re welcome. Uh, about that kiss,” he said, his voice hesitant.
I froze, wanting to ignore it. “Forget it,” I said. “I am.”
He hesitated a bare instant. “I was just going to say I was sorry for misleading you.” Turning away, he headed for the hallway, Lucy in his arms and his head bowed. “Good night.”
That was
not
what he was going to say, and I licked my lips in a flash of understanding as I again saw his loneliness, the space he kept between himself and the rest of the world. I knew he would love Lucy, but even then, he would hold himself apart. I’d seen him afraid. I’d seen him vulnerable and down to his last option. He had risked not just my life but his to give me a
choice
. And it bothered me that he was going to be so…alone.
He had wanted to be a tailor when he grew up, because they had been stronger than his dad to his young-boy eyes.
“Trent?”
The word was out of my mouth before I even knew I was going to say it, and he stopped in the threshold, spinning quickly back to me.
“Yes?”
It was hopeful, and my heart beat strongly. But fear shot through me, chased by adrenaline. “Never mind,” I whispered. “Have a good night.”
He turned, but not fast enough to hide the light in his eyes, dimming, and it scared me even more. “You, too,” he said again, his voice precise and controlled again. “I’ll let myself out.”
He walked stiffly into the hallway, and I swallowed hard, feeling unreal. “Bye, Trent,” I said, my fingers trembling slightly as I felt my way around the center counter to sit in my chair and stare at the table. There was a new feeling trickling through me, making my breath come fast and my heart thump. It was more than having Trent off my case. The witches, too, and the I.S. if that conversation in the van was any indication. True, I was a day-walking demon and I couldn’t leave Ohio or Kentucky without notifying the I.S., but the legislation would go through soon, and I wasn’t shunned anymore. It wasn’t the satisfaction of saving San Francisco from Ku’Sox, or having finally freed myself from Al and the rest of them, or even that I’d become a demon godmother to Trent’s daughter and gotten my Saturdays back, too.
The mix of fear and exhilaration filling me grew from the undeniable fact that Trent had liked that kiss we had shared. Not only liked it but had hoped that I liked it, too.
And that was very fine information to have indeed.
I’d like to thank my agent, Richard Curtis, for everything he does so I can do what I love, and my editor, Diana Gill, who makes what I love to do look good.
New York Times
bestselling author
KIM HARRISON
was born and raised in Michigan, and has recently returned there to escape the South Carolina heat. Her bestselling Hollows novels include
Dead Witch Walking; The Good, the Bad, and the Undead; Every Which Way But Dead; A Fistful of Charms; For a Few Demons More; The Outlaw Demon Wails; White Witch, Black Curse;
and
Black Magic Sanction.
She also writes the bestselling Madison Avery YA series, including
Once Dead, Twice Shy
and
Early to Death, Early to Rise.
www.kimharrison.net
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Books of the Hollows
Black Magic Sanction
White Witch, Black Curse
The Outlaw Demon Wails
For a Few Demons More
A Fistful of Charms
Every Which Way But Dead
The Good, the Bad, and the Undead
Dead Witch Walking
And Don’t Miss
Unbound
Once Dead, Twice Shy
Holidays Are Hell
Dates from Hell
Hotter Than Hell
Jacket illustration by Larry Rostant
This book is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogue are drawn from the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
PALE DEMON
. Copyright © 2011 by Kim Harrison. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.