Hollows 11 - Ever After (34 page)

She was on the defensive, and that was fine with me. It didn’t make the guilt any less, but it did tend to put it off till later.

“Oh my God, I’m so, so sorry,” I said, grabbing napkins like mad and shoving them at her. “Here, let me give you my address,” I said, head down and fumbling in my bag as she took them, dabbing at her front until she realized it was useless. Jenks was at the ceiling, and I dumped my bag out to distract her when the napkins hadn’t done it. “I’ve got a card in here somewhere. Send me the bill for your cleaning. Oh, that’s got angora in it, doesn’t it? I can tell.”

“Seriously, it’s okay,” she said, but she was watching me now, not Jenks in her purse. Hell, everyone was watching me. Ivy and Jenks had helped me stock my bag, and the tampons, diaphragm, jumbo condoms, and fuzzy cuffs that Jenks had picked out were garnering snickers.

“I am such a klutz,” I said, snatching up the pen Ivy had given me from a Hollows strip joint. I scribbled the downtown bus depot’s address on a matchbook.

“No, really, it’s okay,” she said, hand up to keep me at arm’s length. Her expression was a mix of disgust and contempt. I was a doofus, and everyone could tell.

“Please, just take it,” I said, and she finally did just to shut me up. “I must have been half asleep.” My order came up in its bag, and the woman realized she was going to have to go home and change. I could see it in her eyes. Behind her in the parking lot, the top was almost closed. “At least let me pay for your drinks!” I said, reaching out as if I was going to take her arm.

She backed off fast. “I already paid for them,” she said, bouncy no more. Grimacing, she plucked at her sweater and looked at her watch. “Bill, I gotta go. Forget the coffee.”

“Catch you tomorrow, Barbie,” one called, and I almost choked. Barbie? Really? Was that legal?

But the car again had a roof. “Wait! Your coffee!” I exclaimed, taking my own bag of duplicate brew and following her.

“Look, it’s okay!” the woman said, starting to get angry as she headed for the door. “I have to go home and change. Just forget it, okay? Accidents happen.”

I hesitated, a forlorn expression on me as she stormed out. Accidents do happen, especially when you plan for them. The chimes jingled merrily, and my eyes fell to my feet. “Well, I tried!” I said to everyone, then darted back to the counter and shoved everything back in my purse.

Hustling after her, I stiff-armed the door open. She was almost to her car, and she jerked when she saw me. “Really, it’s okay!” she said as if knowing I was going to follow. I almost smiled. My gaze slid to the nearby Dumpster, looking for a leprechaun catching a smoke beside it. Today I might risk accepting a free wish.

Jenks dropped down, and I fluffed my scarf as he snuggled in. “Hey, you think it’s gotten colder?” I asked him as we
click-clacked
to her, more to be sure he was watching his temps than any need for conversation.

Jenks tugged the scarf tighter around himself. “Dropped two degrees since this morning. We’ll be inside tonight.”

Adrenaline flowed, sweet and beautiful. She was standing at her car, fumbling for her missing keys in her cluttered purse. It was so easy to take someone. Really, it was astounding it didn’t happen more often. She was so frazzled she didn’t even remember the top had been open when she’d gone in.

“Here, take some money!” I said, arm out to her as I came forward. “I owe you for the drinks.”

“I said it was okay!” she shouted, clearly pissed. Still no keys in hand, she got in her car, thinking it was safer. The door slammed, and I stood there, tapping on the window. “Leave me the fuck alone!” she shouted, open purse on her lap. “My God, are you trying to pick me up?”

Ivy sat up from the backseat, a pale arm sliding around her neck. “No, we’re trying to abduct you,” she whispered. “There’s a difference. You’d have more fun if we were trying to pick you up.”

The woman took a breath to scream, and I tapped on her window, shaking my head.

“I wouldn’t,” Ivy breathed, her eyes a nice steady brown.

“Yeah!” Jenks shouted through the glass at her as he hovered at her eye level. “It will only get her excited. You won’t like her if you get her excited.”

“Unlock the door,” Ivy demanded, and Barbie fumbled for the lock, scared.

I opened the door, smiling now so she wouldn’t be so frightened, but it kind of backfired. “Slide over,” I said, gesturing. “Go on. You’re skinny. Get in the passenger seat.”

“Money?” she said, white-faced. “You want money? I don’t have any brimstone. Here, take my purse. Take it!”

“I’ve already been in your purse,” Jenks said from the dash. “You don’t have any.”

“Just slide over,” I said, concerned someone was going to notice me. “Now, Barbie, or I’ll turn you into a frog.”

Jenks’s wings clattered, his dust a happy silver. “She’ll do it!” he warned. “I used to be six feet tall.”

Ivy rolled her eyes, but the woman awkwardly moved over the console. “You really need to stop making up stupid names for people you come in contact with,” the vampire muttered, shifting with her. “It’s not respectful.”

Mood improved, I flipped the seat to put the bag of coffee on the floor. “That’s her real name,” I said as I got in, and Ivy winced.

“Sorry.”

“Please don’t hurt me!” Barbie said, really scared now, and I felt bad as I took the keys Ivy handed over the seat and started up the car with a satisfying rumble.

“Hurting you isn’t in the plan,” I said as I carefully backed up and put it in drive. “So please don’t do anything to change it. All we want is your car for a few hours, and then we will drop you off in downtown Cincinnati with a story that will get you a ghostwritten novel and a movie of the week. Okay?”

Barbie licked her lips. “You’re Rachel Morgan, aren’t you,” she said, eyes wide.

I met Ivy’s eyes in the rearview mirror, not sure if I should be flattered or not. Ivy shrugged, and when Jenks snickered, I turned to the woman, smiling my warmest.

“Yep, and you’re going to help us save the world. What’s your parking spot, Barbie?”

Chapter Twenty-One

B
ut I want to help save the world!” Barbie said plaintively as I helped her into the backseat of the cab, my hand on her head so she didn’t hit anything. Her hands were bound with those fuzzy cuffs, and it made her balance chancy. “I can help. Oh God, don’t leave me here. It smells like bad tacos!”

My nose wrinkled, and I took her ID tag from around her neck and stuffed it in a back pocket. “Larry gets one of the no-frill blacks, Susan the pumpkin, and Frank the chai, right?”

Jenks hovered over the roof of the cab, impatient. “You’re gonna be late for your first day,” he warned.

“Yes, but I can help!” she insisted, and I leaned back in to wiggle her shoes off. I hadn’t worn the right heels, and the doppelgänger charm would only glamour me to look like her. It would be more convincing if we were the same height.

“Trust me,” I said as I shifted out of the backseat. “You’re helping. Really.”

I stood and looked over the empty park, hoping no one was watching from the town houses across the way. Ivy was bent over talking to the cabdriver, giving him a wad of cash and a peek at her cleavage as she told him to take the woman to the hospital—the mental hospital. By law, they had to give everyone who was dropped off an exam, and with the story Barbie had, they’d give her the long version. It was the best I could come up with on such short notice, not very nice, but better than stuffing her in the trunk of her car or leaving her tied up somewhere.

“Good?” I asked the driver, and he met my eyes through the rearview mirror, nodding.

“Wait!” Barbie cried, as I shut the door and she pounded on it with her fuzzy-cuffed wrists. “How will I know?” she shouted, muffled but understandable through the glass. I motioned for the driver to roll the window down, and she leaned toward me, breathless. “How will I know if you save the world?”

The really, really long version.
“If we’re all still here Saturday, then it worked,” I said, then patted the top of the cab to let him know we were done.

“I want to help!” the woman cried as they drove off, and Ivy crossed the pavement to stand beside me. Jenks flitted close with a strand of Barbie’s hair, and using it, I primed the doppelgänger charm. The ley line up here was barely usable on the best of days, running right through the man-made ponds and under the Twin Lakes Bridge, but now, with the lines unbalanced and screaming in discord, it was awful.

I shuddered as I invoked the charm and dropped it into a pocket. Jenks made a long whistle, and Ivy nodded. I looked at my hands, seeing nothing different, but obviously they could. Even my voice would sound like hers. Illegal. Everything we were doing was illegal, and not for the first time, I wondered how I’d gotten to this place, doing illegal things to help Trent. Help him save the world.

Maybe I should be the one in the cab going to the hospital.

Seeing my mood, Ivy put an arm over my shoulders and turned me back to the cars. “You were nice,” Ivy said as we crossed the night-cooled pavement. “Nicer than I’d have been. She’ll have an interesting morning and be home for lunch. Don’t beat yourself up about it.”

“I don’t like involving her,” I said as we came up to Barbie’s car. “And trying to be her is going to get us caught. I can’t be a real person.”

“Yeah,” Jenks said as he checked himself out in the side mirror. “She’s too bouncy.”

Frowning, I opened the door and sat down, my feet still on the pavement. “Have you ever tried to be someone you’re not?” I said as I pulled off my boots, tossing them into the back, and put on Barbie’s heels.

“All the time.” Ivy wasn’t looking at me, her eyes on the Hollows across the river.

“That’s not what I meant,” I said, then used
Barbie
’s keys to start
Barbie
’s car. I didn’t like this. Not at all. But I needed those rings, and this was the only way to get them.

Ivy looked at me through the open window. I could still smell Barbie’s perfume, and it made me uncomfortable. “You okay with this, or you want to scrap it right now?”

Jenks hovered behind her, and I put the car in reverse to back out. She knew as well as I there was no choice. Still, I stewed over it all the short drive to the art museum, becoming more and more angry. The only reason we were trying this on such short notice was because I was familiar with the layout. Nick had worked here, and he’d given me a private tour on more than one occasion. The entire basement was a maze of storage and offices, and that’s where the showpieces would be until the night before the exhibit opened.

Ivy was behind me in her mom’s blue Buick as I pulled into the museum’s parking lot. Knowing it would be what
Barbie
would do, I parked in a spot where no one would scratch the paint, finding a place that would be in the shade come noon. Ivy slowly drove past, headed for a spot closer to the door. She was going in as a patron and had a sketch pad and folding chair. Once I got downstairs, Jenks would give her my ID and she’d come down in the far elevator, clearing our exit en route.

The coffees were cold when I picked up the bag and slid out, and after locking the car, I crouched to put the key on the front wheel where I had promised Barbie I would leave it. Not wanting to ruin my story with cold coffee, I reached for a ley line and warmed them up with a charm, my thoughts firmly on the dark, bitter brew so I didn’t warm up, say, the radiator of the car. Ceri had taught me this one, and thoroughly unhappy, I stomped to the main entrance, the unfamiliar heels making me trip on the curb.

I didn’t look up as Jenks rejoined me, having ridden to the museum with Ivy. Silent, he worked his way past my hair, now down like Barbie had hers. “She’ll be fine,” Jenks said as he resettled himself behind the curtain of my hair.

I didn’t like that I was telegraphing so much, and I said nothing. Barbie probably wouldn’t come to work in black slacks and a sweater that covered her cleavage, but I had an excuse for that, too. Late, I took the stairs at a mincing hurry, fumbling for my ID.

“These heels are killing me,” I muttered to Jenks when I got to the top and the security guy cracked open the door for me.

“Relax, Rache. You’re sweating.”

Yes, I was sweating. I didn’t like this. I had abducted a woman and was pretending to be her. It was daylight. And I couldn’t shake the feeling that Nick was somewhere watching me.

“Hey! Hi! I’m late!” I said cheerfully, trying to match Barbie’s bouncy attitude when I reached the door. “Some witch spilled her coffee all over me and I had to go home and change.”

Larry—by his name tag—smiled and held the door as I slid in before him. “You got five minutes,” he said, and I hesitated just inside the echoing space. Crap, I’d forgotten which one he was supposed to get.

“You’d better hustle, though,” the man said, eyes alight as he took one of the tall, no-nonsense black coffees. “Bull is on the warpath.”

My brief relief that he knew which was which died.
Bull?
I thought, then juggled the remaining coffee to get my ID to show. “Thanks for the heads-up,” I said, rolling my eyes because it seemed the right thing to do.

“Thank you.” He hoisted the coffee in salute, hiding it behind his security podium when a masculine shout echoed from somewhere deep inside.

I gave him a last smile, then turned away, heart pounding. Barbie worked the information/security stand just across the lobby, but there were two, and I wasn’t sure which one to go to. The elevator to the basement was through the Great Hall, but there was a stairway across from Larry’s post that only the employees, and their ex-girlfriends, knew about. My heels clacked on the marble floor, and I angled to the woman watching me from the information booth. I was willing to bet that was Susan.

“Barb!” a high, masculine voice called, and I smiled at Susan when our eyes met.

Jenks’s wings tickled my neck. “Ah, Barbie?” he prompted, and that first call registered.

Feeling out of control, I spun to the guy in the tweed vest hanging out of the museum gift shop. “Girl, where’s my chai!” he called good-naturedly, and I reversed my direction. I was guessing this was Frank.

“Sorry!” I gushed as I hustled to him, my voice raised in the echoing space as Jenks darted off my shoulder, zipping up and into the ductwork to find the main security junction. “I am so ditzy this morning. Some witch at Jun—ah, at Mark’s spilled her coffee all over me and I had to run home to change. I haven’t been able to think two straight thoughts in a row since!”

Frank took the chai tea, a smile on his face. “Thank God . . . ,” he drawled, running an eye up and down my outfit. “That swill they serve in the cafeteria sucks. Honestly, I don’t know why you don’t wear black more often. It’s classic, and with that figure of yours, you can get away with it. Go on now. You’d better make with the busywork. He’s on the warpath. Some tight-ass is jerking his chain, and we peons get the horns.”

My smile took on an honest warmth as he took a sip, waving me off. “Thanks,” I said, guessing they had a good friendship, and he smiled right back and sipped his drink.

“Damn, girl!” he exclaimed dramatically. “How did you get it here so hot!”

Larry was opening the doors to the public as I hustled to the last woman. Her polyester navy-blue suit with a white blouse screamed tour guide, and her eyebrows were high at my black outfit. “Susan,” I blurted before she could say anything. “Oh my God! You wouldn’t believe the morning I’ve had.” Nervous, I slid behind the counter, praying I was doing this right. “How’s the Bull?”

Susan took the pumpkin latte, and I exhaled in relief, glad I got to keep the straight-up black. “He’s on fire,” she said, making an
mmm
of appreciation and wiping the foam from her lips. “Something about that new elf exhibit. Thanks, this is good this morning. Black is a new look for you. What’s up?”

I shrugged, not wanting to sit down and claim the space until I knew it was mine. “A witch dumped her coffee on me. You like the purse?” I lifted my shoulder bag for her inspection. “It doesn’t match, but I was in a hurry.” Susan shrugged, and I set my bag on the counter beside my coffee. “Elf exhibit?” I prompted, scanning the security cameras at the ceiling for Jenks’s dust. We’d had zero time to plan this, and though I liked working by the seat of my pants, I didn’t want everything to come tumbling down because of new security.

Coffee in hand, Susan eyed the first people coming in. “Something about the security not being adequate. Here they come. Is it Friday yet?”

“Don’t push it,” I whispered. Hand to my middle, I fell back, not wanting to do a tour. Just inside the door were two moms and three kids. They were getting their strollers and diaper bags arranged as the kids hooted, listening to their voices echo. Behind them, Larry gave Ivy’s sketch bag a cursory glance. She got the all-clear, and the stately woman strode by the young moms with their kids with a tight-jawed stance at the lack of planning, but under it was a wistful need.

“I don’t feel so good,” I said, still standing behind the information counter as if I belonged. Susan seemed to think I did, and I was going to go with it.

“You look awful,” Susan said, eyeing me in concern. “Sit, will you? You’re making me nervous. I’ll take the first tour.”

“Thanks,” I whispered, sinking down.

“And while you’re there, organize the brochures, will you?” she added cheerfully, grabbing a map and going out to meet the moms, now trying to get their kids and move forward.

I gave her a sour look when she simpered at me over her shoulder. It was the right thing to do, apparently. Ivy was gone, and I looked to the hallway that led to the stairs and employee break room. I was anxious for Jenks to get back. The less I had to play tour guide Barbie, the better.

“Good morning!” Susan said, maps in hand as she approached the two women. “We’re gathering a tour up in the Great Hall if you’re interested. It takes about forty minutes and is free. I’ll be along in about five minutes if you want to wait.”

Jenks dropped down, scaring the crap out of me, and I coughed to hide my surprise. “Ivy is setting up beside the elevator that will take her down to the basement,” he said, grinning because he had made me jump. “I’m going to trip an alarm in the courtyard. Don’t go until it trips the second time. Got it?”

“Second alarm, got it,” I said, waving his dust away before Susan turned and saw it.

“Soon as you’re downstairs, I’ll do a flyby for your ID and take the elevator up for Ivy.”

It wasn’t a bad plan, but I knew the maybes were driving Ivy crazy. “Got it. Second alarm. Go!” I hissed as Susan gave up on the two women and started back, maps smacking her thigh.

Giving me a thumbs-up, Jenks dropped down below the level of the counter and flew off at ankle height, his sparkles making a brief flash against the marble floor.

“Any bets?” Susan leaned against the counter like a tired tourist. I stared at her blankly, and she looked at her watch and added, “If I get out of here before Bull shows up?”

“Ahh . . .” I hedged, and she leaned to look down the hallway and into the Great Hall.

“Damn, they aren’t going to wait,” she said, dropping back a step. “Barb, I’m going to go snag them. I do
not
want to be sitting here for the next hour. If anyone else comes in, send them down. I’ll keep them in the Great Hall until the tour is supposed to start.”

I made a face as if I was going to protest, and then an irritating whine of an alarm shrilled into existence. My pulse quickened, and I spun the fake rings on my fingers. “Go,” I said, wanting to be out of here. “It’s probably nothing.” She hesitated, and I added, “You’re going to lose them.”

Her breath a quick exhale, she reached over the counter and grabbed a tour guide flag. “Thanks. I owe you.”

Her heels
click-clacked
away, just as the alarm cut out. “No, thank you,” I said dryly, then waved to Frank standing at the opening to the gift shop. He abruptly ducked inside, and I spun my chair to see three men striding importantly through the lobby and toward the café. One was in a suit and tie, one in a security uniform, and the third was maintenance.
Way to go, Jenks!