Hollows 11 - Ever After (5 page)

“Hello-o-o-o, Nic-
k,
” I said, hitting the K hard. “You might want to consider getting a new number if you’re going to be doing bad-guy stuff.” Jenks flew backward off my shoulder, giving me a thumbs-up with both hands. “I saw you tonight—running away as usual. If I catch you, you will be in the I.S. lockup with a zip strip bolted to your forehead. That’s a promise from me to you, you hear me, crap for brains? These are babies, not a piece of antiquated piece of history no one cares about. You are stealing someone’s child, and I’m going to—”

The phone clicked. “Rachel.”

The flat sound of my name cracked through me, and my eyes darted to Jenks, now standing on my plate. It was Nick all right, his tone dry and accusing. The image of his narrow face, scruffy stubble, and casual, unkempt clothes flashed through my mind, and my gut tightened. What had I ever seen in him? But behind his rough exterior was a wickedly clever mind, one that was going to get him in a hole in the ground.

“Oh,” I said lightly. “So you have a pair after all, huh?”

“You left me with no recourse but to sell my soul,” Nick said.

“Oh please.” I stood, pacing to the other side of the kitchen with Jenks hovering by my ear. “You sold your soul all on your own. I never made you summon a demon. I asked you once, but you were summoning him already, so I’m not taking the blame for that. Besides, you don’t belong to Al. Who owns you, Nickie? Is it Newt? You almost deserve her.”

“There you go again,” he said, his bitter laugh clear through the phone. “Jumping to the wrong conclusion. Listen to me this time. You left me with no recourse but to sell my soul. Thank you.” My lips parted. “I never would have met Ku’Sox any other way.”

Oh. Shit.
My gut tightened even more, and Jenks dropped to the counter before me, pale and his wings unmoving. Ku’Sox was totally deranged and psychotic—along with coddled, endured, and hated by his entire race as their beloved and mentally unstable attempt to circumvent the elven curse that had made them basically barren. The lab-created demon had a tendency to eat people alive because he thought his soul was missing something. Maybe he was right. Nick stealing surviving Rosewood babies for him wasn’t for the good of his species. He was up to something, something
really
bad. I had to call Algaliarept. My teacher had to know of this like yesterday.

“Son of a Disney whore,” Jenks whispered.

I spun, hearing the silence of the church. “Listen to me,” I said, and Nick snorted. “Ku’Sox is psychotic. He’ll kill you as soon as he has everything he needs.”

“Which is why I haven’t told him how to make the enzyme that keeps his babies alive,” Nick said, his voice distant. “God, you think I’m stupid?” He wasn’t really paying attention, and that made me even angrier.

“You think you have something on him?” I exclaimed, and I heard pixy kids whisper from the hallway. “Nick, you almost deserve what’s coming. Just stop. Okay?
Stop.
If you stop and go away, I won’t have to hurt you. Better yet, put the babies back, and maybe I can get the rest of the demons to not kill you, too. You’re not going to come out of this alive.”

“You’re not the only one who wants to cheat death,” he said bitterly. “I’m hanging up now. Don’t bother calling back. This number isn’t going to work anymore.”

I stared at the phone as he clicked off. “Son of a bastard,” I whispered, knowing now why he’d gone to Ku’Sox. He wanted power and was hoping Ku’Sox would give it to him. “Sweet loving son of a bastard.” More tired than angry, I leaned against the counter, my dress pulling tight against me. Head bowed, I set the phone down with an exaggerated softness. Nick was going to get himself killed, but not before he hurt a lot of people and broke the balance of power that kept Inderland and humans from open conflict. Ku’Sox was halfway to making his own army of day-walking demons—unless I did something about it.

My dinner sat on the table across the kitchen, the two bites out of it looking odd and disconnected—coffee and a sandwich when I’d been expecting to end my day with grilled salmon and tiramisu. “Where’s my scrying mirror?” I said softly, and Jenks lit into motion, darting to the open shelving under the counter.

Lungs full of stale air, I leaned to get it. My dress tightened again, and with a smooth motion, I pulled the scrying mirror from between the demon textbooks and my favorite cookie book. Holding it tight to my chest, I sat back down in my chair and rested it on my knees. It was wrong side up, the flat silver back dull and mundane. “I’m calling Al,” I said, though that was obvious. “He needs to know what’s going on.”

The red-wine-tinted glass sent sparkles through my fingertips and the tops of my legs as I arranged it right side up, the silver-edged etchings that I’d put in it catching the light and gleaming. The round, plate-size glass holding the demon curse had been scribed with the figures to make it into sort of an interdimensional cell phone. It was really beautiful, and the fact that I had made it was a source of guilty pride.

“Keep your kids out in case he comes over,” I warned Jenks, but he had already chased them back into the garden, and I set my right hand in the center glyph. Tapping a line, I felt my mind expand as my awareness was dumped into the demon collective. I could still see the kitchen, hear the pixies playing outside, but I could also hear the faint whispers of a handful of conversations—demons in their chat room, I guess. It was uncomfortable, but it would ease if I could get Al to pick up.

Rachel calling Al, come in, Al,
I thought sourly. It wasn’t even midnight yet. He should still be up. Most demons kept to a witch’s sleep schedule, and they did sleep. Al had given me his bedroom after examining the closet-size room I’d purchased from another demon. His old room had safeguards built into the walls, and he didn’t trust I could take care of myself—yet.

Yo! Are you there, Your Immenseness? Come in, Al. I need to talk to you!

Jenks’s wings were humming, and my move to look up at him was cut short when Al’s thoughts slid into my mind, somehow maintaining the slightly dry, lordly tone of a British aristocrat that his verbal speech invariably had.
What do you want? We’re busy.

“We?” I said aloud, knowing that my verbal speech would carry through the mirror, reflected perfectly in my thoughts. Jenks wouldn’t be able to hear Al’s responses, but it was polite to include him as much as I could.

Ah, me,
Al amended, his embarrassment making it through the attempted barrier that he tried unsuccessfully to erect between us.
What do you want? I’m busy. If it’s about canceling your next lesson, forget it. Wednesday midnight, or I’ll find you.

I hesitated, getting the faintest impression of books and candles, but his thoughts weren’t tinged with thoughts of the library. He was in his closet of a room, etching the walls with curses to make a new safe room. Paranoid, are we? “Ah, we might have a problem,” I said, meeting Jenks’s eyes and seeing his encouragement. “It’s Nick.”

How many nasty little men do you need, love? Isn’t Trenton enough?
Al thought, clearly distracted.
You can’t have him. Ku’Sox would put too high a price just because it’s you. Cut him loose. He’s toad shit.

My jaw dropped. Hovering across from me, Jenks’s wings dropped in pitch as he reflected my shock, not knowing why. “You know Ku’Sox has Nick?” I said, warming. “And you don’t care? You didn’t tell me?”

Of course I know. And no, I don’t care.
His thought was distant, as if I was only getting half his attention, and I wondered what he was doing.
Why do you? If all you’re after is abuse, I can give it to you far more deliciously than a human.

I frowned at the wave of titillation he’d put in his words. “Do you have any idea what he’s capable of?”

Ku’Sox?

“No, Nick!” I pressed my fingers more firmly into the glass. He was losing interest.

Oh, for the two worlds colliding,
Al thought, clearly bothered.
Can this wait?

“No!” I said, and Jenks crossed his arms over his chest to mirror my distress. “How did Ku’Sox get Nick? The two of them couldn’t have met before.”

That I knew for a fact. The timing was off. I waited, shoving needlelike thoughts of impatience at Al’s mind, threatening him until he found out for me. Sure enough, he made a huge mental sigh, thinking,
Hold on a sec.

I took a breath to complain, but he was gone. I shuddered—it felt as if I suddenly lost half my mind when the thousand half-realized musings that go on in the back of our awareness abruptly vanished. I hadn’t lost my mind, of course, but Al and I had been sharing mental space by way of the scrying mirror, and I felt the loss of his background noise when he left.

“He’s checking,” I said, then jumped as my focus blurred briefly as Al came drifting back into my head.

Ah. Here it is,
the demon muttered, and I pressed my fingers against the scrying mirror to improve the connection.
Ku’Sox won him in a bet. One concerning you, actually.

I put my free hand to my forehead and massaged it. Jenks landed on the table beside me, his tiny features drawn up in concern. It was as I’d feared. Ku’Sox on his own was bad enough, but add in a thieving, magic-using human who didn’t mind getting dirty, and we were in trouble.
Won him, eh?
I thought derisively.
This omnipotent crap you guys think of yourself is going to get you all killed. Nick is devious. Ku’Sox is worse. Together, they’re really bad.

Al’s spark of amusement darted through me, alien and at odds with myself.
He belongs to Ku’Sox. That should be some consolation. Abject humiliation . . . blah, blah, blah.
He somehow gave the impression of leafing through papers.
It’s all perfectly legal.

“I doubt abject humiliation is what’s going on. Nick is over here in reality,” I said, and Jenks smirked. Frowning, I turned back to the mirror, seeing a very faint reflection of him in its reddish depths. I thought it interesting that the pixy showed up better than me. “Did you know Nick is stealing Rosewood babies?” I said shortly, and Jenks’s dust pooling on the mirror shifted to a sick-looking blue. “Thriving Rosewood babies? Nick knows the enzyme to keep them alive. Stole it from Trent. He’s injecting it into them, prolonging their lives, then stealing them. Eight so far.”

Al’s amusement only ticked me off.
Ah. You think Ku’Sox is making little yous? I don’t blame him, seeing as you don’t like him. Long-term planning. Good for him. It will keep the freak busy for a few decades. First thing the brat has done right since he got out of a test tube. I’m proud.

Al’s thoughts were going distant, and I pressed my hand harder into the glass until it ached with the thrum of energy running through it. “He’s not doing this for the greater demon good,” I said sharply. “In ten years, he’s going to have a bunch of preadolescent, very powerful day-walking demons who look to him for everything right down to their continued existence. Nick knows the enzyme, not the cure. The moment they don’t get the enzyme, they die. You think that little fact is going to escape Ku’Sox?”

Breath held, I felt Al consider that. A hint of worry colored his usual confidence. If he were actually next to me, I probably wouldn’t have been able to detect it, but here, with our consciousness twined together, it was harder to hide. And just as I knew he was concerned, he knew I was deadly serious.
Mmmm,
he finally thought.
Is that coffee I smell in your thoughts?
With an abruptness that told me he was taking me seriously, he snapped our connection.

I sucked in my breath and jerked my head up, shocked. “Damn,” I whispered, curling my shaking fingers under into a fist. The lingering energy swirled, hurting until it was reabsorbed. “I hate it when he leaves that fast. He’s coming over.” Fingers aching, I slid the mirror onto the table and stood, rubbing my hands together to try to rid myself of the lingering prickles of magic. “Scrying mirrors are like party lines. This is a good thing.”
I think.
“You staying?”

Jenks casually cleaned his sword on a torn corner of napkin and nodded.

I smiled, carefully setting my scrying mirror beside my cooling coffee. “Thanks. He’s easier to deal with when he thinks people trust him.”

“Trust?” The pixy held the blade up to the light and squinted at its shine. “I trust him all right. Trust him to get away with whatever he can.”

As if on cue, there was the barest tug on my awareness as Al gently misted into existence without even the hint of a shift in the air. Appearing in the threshold, he sniffed, his eyes going to the steaming pot of coffee. The demon was taller than me, his overdone buckled boots giving him an advantage. He was wearing his usual crushed green velvet frock coat with the lace at his throat and cuffs, having gone on to add a matching top hat, a scarf to protect against the night’s mist, a cane he didn’t need, and his usual round blue-tinted glasses. They did little to hide his red goat-slitted eyes, and I knew he didn’t need them to see with. Al was all about show, and he liked the image of a bygone British nobleman.

“Rache-e-el,” he drawled, eyeing me over his glasses as he loosened his scarf and came in, boots grinding leftover circle-salt into the linoleum. “Sweats at your trial, gowns in your kitchen. You simply
must
learn how to dress yourself properly. Or did you go all out for me?” His expression souring, he gave Jenks a disparaging glance.

Jenks wrinkled his nose in disgust at the rank smell of burnt amber now permeating the air. “Sweet ever-loving Tink,” he said, rising up and holding his nose dramatically. “Haven’t you learned how to take a shower yet? You smell like a burning tire.”

“Stop it,” I said, knowing Al couldn’t help it. The ever-after stank like burnt amber, and it rubbed off on you. I still noticed it, but it didn’t seem to have the same impact anymore, which bothered me for some reason.

“I didn’t get dressed up for you,” I said, hoping the pixies stayed out. “I haven’t had time to change from my, ah, date is all.”