Hollows 11 - Ever After (41 page)

Chapter Twenty-Five

T
here’s-s-s a car at the curb,” Belle said as she appeared at my open bedroom door, and a jolt went through me.
Quen. Finally.

“Tell Ivy to stay put. I’ll get it,” I said when six enthusiastic pixies darted into my room with the same message, all of them chattering loud enough to give me a headache. “Ivy!” I shouted before she could move. “I’ll get it. You watch Nick.”

I touched the rings in my pocket for reassurance as I shooed everyone out of my room and shut the door behind me. Pace fast, I headed for the sanctuary. Ivy was where I’d left her on the couch, stretched out and dangerously languorous, and I gave Nick a disparaging glance as I passed. “Don’t let him move, whatever happens, okay?” I asked Jenks, and he left my shoulder to stand on the coffee table beside Jax. The smaller, tattered pixy shied at the soft clatter of his dad landing, and I hoped that the two of them would start to talk again.

Stomach churning, I went to the door, promising myself that if I lived through this, I was finally going to get a light in the foyer.

“It’s Quen!” one of Jenks’s kids said in excitement as I undid the bolt to the front door and peeked out into the lamp-lit dark.

Relief filled me as I pushed the heavy oak door open wider in invitation. Quen was getting out of the black beamer parked at the curb, and my face warmed as I remembered him charging me with Trent’s safety. And here I was the one asking him to help me. At midnight. On a weekday. To save the world a day ahead of schedule.

His hair slicked back, Quen was wearing all black again and soft-soled shoes. My eyes fell as I remembered the first time I had seen him. He’d looked like a gardener. Perhaps that was what he’d truly like to be.

“How are the girls?” I asked, and he brought his gaze back from where he’d been saying a soft hello to the pixy bucks braving the cold to escort him in. The light on the sign over the door made creases in his face. Or maybe it was the burden of his life balancing on a fine point. It was going to fall one way or the other.

“Doing well,” he said, looking taller than usual because I was in my stocking feet. “Ellasbeth is getting to know them.” A frown crossed his features. “They’re locked in the closet until I get back. Did you have fun raiding the museum today?”

Smiling, I took his sun-weathered hand in mine as he extended it, pulling him into a hug instead. My eyes teared up as I remembered Ceri. The scent of cinnamon and warm wine filled my senses, and Quen took a quick breath to catch his grief. Anger at Nick flared, and I shoved it away. “I appreciate your help,” I said, thinking that he smelled different from Trent, dark and warm, not green and warm. I wondered if it was a mark of more maturity or just an individual trait. “Are you sure you want to do this? It’s just us. No demon assist.”

His lip twitched, and Quen pushed me into the church, his hands heavy on my shoulders. “I’d rather it be that way. The girls will not be safe until this is settled.”

From just inside, a pixy girl chanted “Come in! Come in!,” and I stepped aside. He slipped past me, and I leaned into the night, looking for any pixy dust before I shut the door.

The latch clicked shut, and I turned toward the warmth and light. I gasped as someone pulled on the line out back, the draw so heavy that my knees almost buckled. Wide-eyed, I watched Ivy spring from the couch. “Quen, no!” she shouted, the dust from Jenks’s startled kids sifting down to make her glow.

Heart pounding, I lurched into the sanctuary. Nick was sitting in his chair, hands bound before him, glaring at Quen. Ivy was between them, her face pale as Quen stood ready to fling a black ball of energy at Nick. His expression was terrifying with hatred. He knew Nick was to blame for Ceri’s death—and I had let him walk in unawares.
Shit. Could I be more clueless?

“Quen,” I said softly, padding over to him. I reached to touch his arm, and he jerked from me, the curse sparking the air between us.

“Why is this filth alive?” he said, cords showing in his neck.

I put my hand on his arm again, gently tugging. “The gargoyles found him in the garden. He’s my present to Al when this is over. You want to sign the card?”

“Tink’s titties, I do,” Jenks said, his dust a bright silver as he hovered beside me. Ivy was holding her breath. If Quen began throwing curses, Ku’Sox might drop into Nick just to see what was up.

“Quen . . .” I fidgeted nervously. “Al is not at all happy about what happened to Ceri.” I couldn’t say
dead.
This was as close as I could get without crying. “Until this is over, I want to know where Nick is, tied up in my church with a vampire and pixy guarding him.”

Quen’s expression pulled up into a hateful mask. “He killed Ceri!”

“Ku’Sox killed Ceri,” I said. “Crap for brains here lied to her, knowing it would happen. I’m not going to let him hurt anyone else by allowing him to wander the universe. He’s here. Where we can watch him.”

With a twang on the line that made me jump, Quen let the curse in his hand dissipate. “He couldn’t wander the universe if he was dead, either,” he muttered. “You ask a lot, Rachel.”

I gave Nick a nasty look—the smug son of a bitch pissed me off. “I know. I’m sorry.”

Quen wasn’t done yet, though, and Jenks’s wings clattered when the man took several steps closer to the thief. “If you move, I will send fire through your spine and explode your brain from the inside.”

Eyeing him darkly, Nick opened his mouth, and I gasped as Quen lashed out impossibly fast. Ivy jumped, but he’d only slapped him, and Nick’s head was lolling as he struggled to focus. Up in the rafters, the pixies shouted their approval.

“Can I speak to you in private for a moment?” Quen said, dismissing Nick.

Nick was still trying to focus, and I turned to Quen. “I see your magic is back within normal parameters,” I said as we headed to the kitchen. Jenks and Jax were inches away from each other. Neither one was dusting heavily in distress. This was good, right?

Quen’s pace was slow as we entered the hallway. “Have you eaten yet?” he asked, surprising me. Hesitating at the top of the hall, he turned halfway around. “Is anyone hungry? We have time to eat before we go. I want to talk to everyone, and it might as well be over food.”

He wants to eat?

“Pizza, maybe?” Quen said, squinting at Nick.

The pixies in the rafters shouted their agreement, but Ivy’s expression said what I was thinking. Pizza sounded awful, and my stomach was already churning. “Sure, okay,” I said when she shrugged. Maybe Quen wanted a last supper kind of a thing.

Quen’s lips twitched as he glanced at Nick and then away. “Great, can someone else order it? I want to see what Rachel is wearing tonight.” He took my elbow, trying to guide me back into motion. “You picked out something nice, right?”

I shivered at how similar his and Trent’s speech cadences were. I felt like I was being pushed along, and I didn’t like it. “Yes. Newt helped me.”

“Newt?” he said, clearly thinking I was joking, and my feet slipped as I stopped to look behind me. Ivy already had the phone, and pixies were shouting out toppings. Jax seemed better, looking at his dad with something other than fear and shame. Nick was sullen as he sulked in the chair holding a tissue to his lip. He wouldn’t try to go back to Ku’Sox until the last moment.

“Show me what you’re wearing,” Quen said, jerking me into my room.

“Hey!” I exclaimed as Quen shut the door behind him.

Arms over his chest, he exhaled in relief. “I see the appeal of living with pixies,” he said softly, “but do they ever stop talking?”

“Only when they sleep.” Eyeing him, I cocked my hip. “What do you want that you can’t ask in front of everyone?”

He compressed his lips and came forward a step. “Can I see the rings?”

Suddenly recognizing the pizza as the distraction he had meant it to be, I nodded. Of course Quen would want to see them, and I reached into my pocket, little pings of energy jolting my burned fingertips. They clinked as they hit his outstretched palm, and his lips parted as he brought them close, nudging them apart with a careful finger. “They’re nothing like wedding rings,” I said as we looked at them in his creased and calloused palm. “Al recognized them. He almost destroyed them before I reinvoked them.”

“Al helped you?” He was close enough for the scent of warm spice rising up between us to remind me of Trent. His fingers twitched as if to keep them for himself, and I stiffened.

“Sort of. And when this is over, we are going to destroy them,” I said, suddenly nervous. I took a breath to tell him I had made a bargain with his goddess, then didn’t. Trent probably had an arsenal of defunct magic that should stay that way. Besides, it sounded so lame. It had all been in my mind, hadn’t it? Al had once said demons could do elf magic but didn’t because it was considered beneath them.

Frowning, Quen held up the smallest ring. “I can’t believe you managed this,” he said quietly, and I was suddenly glad I hadn’t told him how I’d done it. They were evil in a way I’d never considered, and I was going to destroy them right after I took care of Ku’Sox. Tonight.

“You need to leave so I can change,” I said as I tugged them out of his grip and set both rings on my dresser next to my perfumes.

Quen walked to my dresser, turning his back on me but not leaving. His neck was stiff and his arms were crossed over his chest. I took a breath to tell him to get out, then decided against it. He probably had something else to say he didn’t want the pixies knowing. Outside were the low rumbles of gargoyles, and not knowing how good their hearing was, I jerked out the pencil that had been propping the window up. It closed with a snap. Quen jumped, but didn’t turn.

“You do know that we likely aren’t going to come back,” I said, satisfied that he wouldn’t turn around. “One elf and a badly trained demon won’t be enough.”

“I have a duty,” he said, and I frowned.

“Sure, make me responsible for Ray losing her father as well as her mother,” I said as I got my boots out of the closet and let them clunk to the floor. God, it still hurt. It would for a long time, and my motions to change my clothes grew rough. Quen didn’t move, and I thought of Al’s opinion that Trent would have a better chance of success than Quen. Getting to him might be a problem.

Quen took up the rings, his silence making me uneasy. “If we fail, do you think Trent can kill him?” he asked as he fingered them, and I kicked my jeans off, feeling vulnerable.

“No.” I held up my mom’s linen bell-bottoms to me. “It’s not so much that I doubt his abilities, but he
is
Ku’Sox’s familiar. He’s going to be as effective as spit. You can’t kill a demon. Ask Newt.”
Or Ceri, or Pierce.

“I can hide your presence from the demons for a short time,” Quen said, his back to me. “Perhaps long enough for the ever-after to collapse.”

Teeth clenched, I balanced on one foot, then the other as I put my pants on. They were lined in silk, and they felt surprisingly nice. “I’m a demon,” I said softly. “If they want me, they summon me. I’m theirs.”

“The band of silver you cut off,” he started.

“No.” I zipped up my pants, swishing back and forth to watch the way they moved. “Thanks for coming out here on such short notice. Apparently I’ve bankrupted both Al and Newt. Ku’Sox has petitioned that Al be confined, which just leaves us unless you want to take the time to break him out of jail.”

Quen took a breath, and I made a noise when he threatened to turn around. “They can’t summon you if you wear charmed silver. You could put it on until the ever-after goes and the demons are gone,” he said, his neck stiff.

“And then what?” I said, bad tempered.
Is he trying to talk me out of this or see how deep my resolve goes?
Grabbing the hem of my shirt, I pulled it up and over my head. It was cold in just my chemise, and I tossed the tee to the floor. “It never occurred to you that I don’t
want
the demons to die out? Maybe I like them, huh? Besides, Ku’Sox is using my line to kill them,” I said as I shoved my arms into my top. “I’m partially responsible. You can stay here and watch Nick if you want. Someone needs to.”

There was a knock at the door, and I buttoned the vest around me. “Pizza will be here in ten,” Ivy said through the door, and then her steps retreated. Ten minutes—a lingering benefit of having been Piscary’s scion. That, and Ivy tipped very well.

Distracted, I finished the buttons. “You can turn around now,” I said, sitting on my bed to put on my boots.

Quen turned, rings clinking meditatively in his hands as his eyes traveled over me, taking in my choice of clothes. I couldn’t tell what he was thinking. It had taken me three days in a car to learn Trent’s tells. Quen was a lot harder. “What about Nick?” he asked, his voice flat as the rings shifted from hand to hand.

I stood there, feeling my toes sink into my boots. Shrugging, I took the rings from him and put them in the single vest pocket. “Everything he hears or sees is going right into Ku’Sox’s head. I’m counting on it, which is one of the reasons we’re going to do it tonight. What happens after tomorrow, I’ll deal with tomorrow.” Turning to the mirror, I stood beside him, gazing at our reflection and evaluating my new look. I touched my hair, deciding the braid was holding up well enough. “So we good?”

“Just one thing.” I turned to him and he tossed his head to the front of the church when the bell gonged. “Don’t eat the pizza.”

I froze, as he reached for the doorknob. Taking a breath, I jumped into motion, confused.
Don’t eat the pizza?
“Quen?” I jerked him to a halt in the hallway. I could hear the pixies in the sanctuary, Jenks berating Nick. “Why not?”

Posture furtive, he winced. “Didn’t your father ever tell you not to eat with the elves?”

“Sure, because . . .” I stopped, my eyes narrowed as Quen’s smile shifted and became not nice at all. “Because you might forget your life as you drink and make merry,” I said, not liking this. It was a forget spell, temporary but effective, and Ivy and Jenks would be
pissed.
“Quen, I’m not going to lie to them.”