Hollows 11 - Ever After (9 page)

But what was the point of a clean soul if Quen died and I could have helped?

“Thank you,” Trent said, and then he darted back to Quen as the long medical helicopter began to land. What wasn’t nailed down blew to the edges—and there was a lot. Ray began to wail, and I held her face to me, covering her head as I turned my back on the copter. Swearing, Jenks tucked in at my collar, and I stood there hunched and shaking, feeling as if I were at the center of a tornado.

Finally it was only bits of grass striking me, and I turned to see three men in scrubs jump out of the side, a stretcher between them. The blades slowed but didn’t stop, and Trent stood over Quen, his worry coming back threefold.

“No spinal damage,” one said, squinting at an amulet held against Quen’s temple. “We can move him,” and the other two manhandled him onto the stretcher, starting an IV and taking vital signs.

“Sir?” the one with the amulet asked, and Trent pulled his attention from Quen’s face. His eyes looked better.

“Treat it as a demon attack,” he said, voice raised against the wind. “Yes, it’s daylight,” he added when the man looked doubtfully at the sun. “He was possessing someone.”

Jenks left me, Ray starting as the silver sparkles sifted down. “His aura is wonky,” the pixy said, standing on Quen’s chest to garner everyone’s attention for a brief instant. “It’s cycling through shades like it’s ringing. It’s getting worse, though. Five minutes ago, it was taking thirty seconds to cycle and now it’s down to twenty.”

Brow furrowed, the man put on a pair of glasses another handed him. His eyes widened, and his motions took on a new urgency. “Get him in the chopper. Now!”

“I didn’t see it happen,” Trent said as they counted to three and lifted the stretcher, the first man holding the IV bag high. “Morgan and I were out on another trail and felt the disturbance. I think they took Ceri and Lucy,” he said, fear crossing his face before he tried to hide it. I could see it shimmering behind his every move.

With an efficiency of motion, they loaded Quen, the sound of the blades drowning out the new conversation between the two techs. Jenks had darted in with them and out of the wind, and Ray was watching for him to come back out—silent, so silent. Still beside us, the head guy looked at the pilot, motioning for a moment of time. Concern showed in his eyes as he leaned in to be heard. “Sir, I don’t know what this is. We have to take him to the university hospital.”

Trent looked up at the whirling blades, and I held Ray tighter to me. “Are you sure? I don’t want a media circus.”

But the man was shaking his head. “We’re running out of time. He needs to be in a desensitization tank, and you don’t have one. We can try a quiet room—”

“No.” Trent looked inside, fear flickering over him like a second aura. “Go. Take him.”

The man made a motion to the pilot, and through the glass, I saw him grab a radio. “We’ll call ahead,” the tech shouted. “They’ll be ready for him. I think we’re in time, but we have to move fast to stop the damage. I have room for one more.”

Trent spun to me. His face was riven with a worry he was trying to hide with a cool efficiency. It all fell apart when he looked at Ray, then me and whispered, “Rachel . . .”

I couldn’t hear him, but I could read his lips. Something in me twisted, and I shoved it aside. “Go!” I said, propelling him toward the door as the wind whipped my hair around. “I’ve got this! Call me when you know something!”

He kissed Ray’s fingers, looking her firmly in her eyes. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.” His eyes rose to mine as the blades shrieked in the air. “Thank you.”

I held Ray closer, letting her see as we backed away. Trent effortlessly got into the medical copter. Jenks darted out just before the door closed, whipped downward and out as if he were on a roller coaster. He streaked past me, swearing at Tink, but I figured he was okay.

One hand supporting Ray, the other holding my hair, I watched the pilot do a check before lifting up. Squinting, I held my ground as more sticks and leaves blew. Blades thumping, the copter gained altitude and vanished beyond the trees, heading for Cincinnati.

Slowly the leaves settled. Shaking, I looked to where we had found Quen. The grass was flattened. Ray’s grip on my hair tugged, and I disentangled her, letting her soft, damp hand hold my fingers as I listened to the quiet, my ears ringing.

Jenks’s wings sounded muffled as he started to land on my shoulder, then thought better of it and hung where he was, dust sifting from him in the leftover breeze. “He’ll be okay. We got to him in time.”

I didn’t know. But I had an unusually quiet toddler on my hip and no horse. Tulpa had vanished. I didn’t blame the animal, but I needed to get back to the stables. I heard the hounds bay in the distance and shivered.

“Quen is strong,” Jenks said, his words fast as he fell into place beside me as I picked my way through the shattered vegetation. One of the trees I’d taken out had been damaged by magic, all evidence of it destroyed. The I.S. would have a cow. Either that, or blame me for the attack.

“He’s going to be okay,” Jenks said again, and I walked into the shade on the path. Hoofprints were a sad reminder of how fast life could change, the marks going both ways and crisscrossing in a chaotic mishmash.

“He’ll be okay,” I agreed just to get him to stop talking, but I didn’t know if I believed it.

Ray was still silent, leaning away from me to try to see Jenks flying over my head. I hadn’t spent a lot of time with her, but enough that I was familiar. She was so different from her sister, quiet and reserved where Lucy was outgoing and demanding. My face twisted and my gut clenched at the thought of Lucy with Ku’Sox. I had told Trent everything was going to be okay, but the uncertainty as we waited for what Ku’Sox wanted was heartbreaking.

From above my ear, Jenks made an ultrasonic chirp. “Holy toad spit!” the pixy squeaked, and I stiffened, feeling as if something was crawling through me by way of the ley line. Ray, too, stiffened, her hand in my fingers clenching harder.

Then I sucked in my breath as I felt a huge tug from the nearest ley line. It felt like a sudden drop in the road you weren’t expecting—a quick jolt and then back to normal. “What was that?” I said. The back of my head was hot, and I made a face as if trying to pop my ears.

“How should I know?” Jenks shrilled. “Listen, it’s going to do it again. Oh God, here it comes!”

I froze, my feet planted on the path as the line hiccuped and became nauseatingly erratic. Hissing, I dropped the line from my thoughts as it raked through me. Silver-edged dust fell from Jenks so thickly that Ray reached for it. The memory of that itchy feeling scraped up my spine and lodged itself in my brain. Glancing at Jenks, I tentatively tapped a ley line, squinting as I let it flow through me, tasting it. It felt okay now, but something had happened. I’d have to ask Bis when he woke up tonight. He was more in tune with the lines than any person I knew. If I got home, that is. I didn’t know if Trent would approve of me taking Ray home with me.

Jenks hovered before us, a weird, lost look on his face. “What happened?” the pixy asked, and I pushed into motion, wanting to get to a TV.

“I’ve no idea, but it can’t be good.”

Chapter Six

R
ay fussed, threatening to cry as I inexpertly fumbled at the straps to buckle her into the car seat the nice-looking guy in Trent’s garage helped me move into my little Cooper. “Don’t start with me,” I warned her, my unfamiliar tone catching her attention and distracting her. It might have been Jenks making faces at her from the rearview mirror, though, and I backed out of the car, blowing a strand of hair out of my eyes.

It was nearing three, I smelled like horse, and I had a cranky toddler who refused to go down for her nap. And it wasn’t as if I hadn’t tried. Trent’s secretary had gotten me back to Trent’s apartments to wait for him, but that had been four books, two songs, and three hours ago. Watching TV with Jenks had only made being stuck at Trent’s big empty apartments worse. That line hiccup I’d felt wasn’t just out at Trent’s place, but everywhere, the entire United States and off continent, too. The lines were fine now, but the media was scrambling, interviewing specialists and wackos with little signs saying the end was near.

Jenks gave me a thumbs-up from inside the car, and I sighed. Diaper bag, extra food, change of clothes, blanket from her crib, and three stuffed animals she had pointed to when I asked her which ones she wanted. Yep, I had it all. It wasn’t that I didn’t appreciate camping out at Trent’s apartments, watching his big-screen TV and raiding his fridge for fresh fruit and pudding, but I had stuff to do, stuff that I could get done while Ray napped. And boy, did she need to nap.

A sneeze shook me as I shut the door. My brow furrowed. If it followed the emerging pattern, I’d sneeze again in about ten minutes. Al was trying to get a hold of me, and my scrying mirror was across town in the Hollows. I’d tried stepping into the line that bisected Trent’s estate and contacting him that way, but Al hadn’t showed and I hadn’t lingered since the lines felt sour somehow. I hoped it was only the uncomfortable state of the lines that he wanted to discuss, but I had a bad feeling it was more, and my eyes flicked to Ray in her car seat as I got in.

Jenks eyed me suspiciously as I settled myself, wiping my nose with a tissue I took out of my shoulder bag. “Bless you,” he said sourly. “That’s like, what, the twentieth one?”

“I lost count.” Smiling at Ray, who was making
s-s-s-s-s
noises to get Jenks’s attention, I headed for the bright square of light and out of Trent’s underground garage. Worry flitted through me that I was taking Ray off the grounds, but Trent hadn’t told me I couldn’t.

Jenks went drowsy in the new sun, and I slowly wove my way past the employee parking lots and low buildings to the gatehouse. It was up about half a mile, and Ray was well on her way to snoozeville, too, when I came around a bend and slowed.

Trent had modified his gatehouse twice since I’d known him, once when I had blown through the simple metal bar on my way out, and again when Ivy had tossed me over his new wall when I was in a hurry to leave and he had wanted me to stay. The modest, one-story building was now a two-story edifice that straddled the road, officers on both sides to monitor traffic leaving as well as coming in. Parking lots were available on either side of the highly landscaped wall, the bushes trying to hide how tall and thick it was. It wasn’t the five I.S. vehicles parked just this side of the bar that made me take my foot off the gas and coast in—it was the three news vans just past the gate.

Crap on toast, that hadn’t taken long.

My sigh roused Jenks, and he whistled, bringing Ray’s eyes open for a brief moment. I’d known the I.S. was out here, having seen the fax of the warrant sent to Trent’s living room when they’d arrived. The I.S. I could handle. The news vans were another story.

“You think they saw you?” Jenks asked as I pulled into the parking lot.

“Probably. But I’m leaving with Trent’s kid. I probably have to sign something,” I said as I leaned to undo her buckle and pull the whining, tired girl to me. Leaving her in the car was not an option.

Both Ray and I sneezed on Jenks’s dust as he shot out before us, and I took a clean breath as I stood beside the car, baby on my hip and blinking in the wind and sun. An anxious, nervous man in Trent’s security uniform was gesturing for me at a glass door, and I headed for him, my bag over one shoulder, Ray gripping the other. Sure enough, a reporter on the other side of the gate shouted my name. I’d been spotted. Swell.

“Ms. Morgan, I’m glad you stopped,” the man said as I came in and set Ray on the counter. Three walls were entirely glass, and it was like being in a fish tank. There was new activity among the press gathered, waiting for any tidbit the I.S. might let fall. Vultures, they were vultures. “We weren’t aware you were going to take Ray off the grounds.”

“Why?” Jenks asked snidely, giving the three other guards fits as he flew behind the counter and inspected the views from the security cameras. “You think you can stop her?”

“Well, actually . . .” the man hedged, and I took a pen away from Ray before she stuck it in her mouth and gave her from my purse a harmless charm that would straighten hair.

“Look, you,” I said, a finger pointed, and I swear, Ray tried to mimic me, charm between her swollen gums like a teething ring. “Trent asked me to watch her, and I need to get home.”

From behind the counter, a big fat guy in a uniform turned, his chair on casters. “Frank, she’s on the list. Quit razzing her.”

My eyebrows rose, my good mood returning. I was on the list. How about that? And then I sneezed, feeling a faint itch of a ley line pull attached to it.

“Bless you,” Jenks said, and I swear, Ray echoed him, way off on the actual word but spot on as far as rhythm. Her little-girl voice was sweet, and charmed, I tickled her under her chin to make her squirm.

“Ma’am . . .” My smile vanished, and the man’s became nervous. “Uh, you’re on the list, but I need to see a photo ID and get a phone number we can reach you at, and we need to know where you’re going, and when you expect to be back.”

Oh. That was all right then, and I swung my bag up beside Ray, pawing through it with one hand as the other hovered over Ray’s back in case she decided to move. The clatter drew Ray’s attention, and she watched with a serious expression, not reaching for anything as I sifted past the splat gun, lethal charm detector, two sets of cuffs, handful of zip strips, breath mints, phone, and whatnot for my wallet.

“Thank you,” he said as he took it to run it through their machine. It apparently liked what it found since he gave it back. Behind him, the news crew was setting up tripods and long-range cameras.

“I’m taking her to my church,” I said as wrote down my cell number and I shoved everything away, Jenks laughing at the expression on the other officers’ faces at the cuffs and charms. “I’ll have her there until Trent picks her up or we run out of diapers.”

“Thank you,” the anxious guy said, and I swung my bag up onto my shoulder. Jenks hovered beside me, and together we looked at the newspeople, hanging around in the hopes of a scrap of anything. I slid Ray onto my hip, motions slow.

“Think if I give them something they won’t follow me?” I muttered, and Jenks snorted.

“Doubt it.”

I doubted it too, but I headed for the door. If I kept my windows up, I could at least ignore them. Trent wouldn’t be pleased about any photos they took of Ray, but it couldn’t be helped.

The sun and wind hit me anew as I went outside. Jenks was close, and my steps were fast as I headed for the car. Shouts and calls for my attention got loud as I opened the door.
If you follow me home, I swear I’ll let the pixies play in your electronic equipment!

“Ms. Morgan! Is it true that Mr. Kalamack has been flown to the hospital and is in intensive care! Ms. Morgan!”

My back was to them, and Jenks, currently perched on the roof, winced. “It’s not going to look good if you don’t answer,” he said, his eyes going to Ray and back to me.

“Ms. Morgan! Have you taken custody of his children because he’s unconscious? Where is Ms. Dulciate? Has she been injured as well?”

I sighed, then shifted Ray higher. She wasn’t fussy, happily gumming the charm. It wouldn’t hurt to quash a few rumors before they got started.

The security people on both sides of the road were standing at their big plate-glass windows, watching. I’d get no help from them, and although Trent probably wouldn’t thank me for putting Ray in front of the cameras, I’d found out the hard way if you didn’t give the press something to chew on, they invented things that sold more papers than the truth.

“Ms. Morgan!” a woman shouted, and I turned, holding my hair to my head so the wind wouldn’t catch it. I must look a sight, but at least I wasn’t limping, beaten up, or bandaged.

The news crews had a spasm of delight as I let the car door shut and paced across the road to the gate they were clustered behind. Jenks hung back as the still photographers snapped their pictures and big guys with video cameras on their shoulders shoved for the best angle. They were all shouting for my attention. Jenks took refuge on my shoulder, and Ray hid her face, scared. My protective nature rose up from a tiny seed of maternal instinct I didn’t even know I had, and I shushed her, rocking as I stood in the road, three feet back from the gate.

“You,” I said to a woman in a white dress suit, her short hair hardly moving in the stiff wind. “Didn’t I knock you down once outside of the mall?”

The woman grinned as her peers chuckled at her expense. “That was me, Ms. Morgan. Trent Kalamack was seen being transported to the hospital by helicopter, and unless I’m mistaken, that is his daughter. Something happened to the ley lines this afternoon, and the I.S. is on-site. Can you comment?”

From my shoulder, Jenks sighed. “You sure you want to do this?”

No, I didn’t want to do this, but I wanted them following me home even less. “Trent Kalamack escorted one of his employees to the hospital after an accident that occurred while riding this morning,” I said, smug when the woman shifted her gaze to her truth amulet ring, a nice steady green. They weren’t legal in this situation, but hard to prove. “Mr. Kalamack didn’t sustain any injuries, and I’m waiting for news just as you are.”

“But the I.S.—” the woman blurted as a follow-up, and the rising questions subsided. “Were the ley lines damaged in the accident?”

“No,” I said shortly. “I felt the lines sour well after the incident. The I.S. is here because the wounds his employee sustained are similar to those a demon might inflict.” The noise rose, and I put up a hand, guessing their next question and wanting to answer it my way instead of needing to work around that truth amulet. “As you can tell, the sun is up, so logic says the I.S. is taking the opportunity to be nosy while Trent is away.”

They liked that, scribbling on tablets or talking into their recorders.

“Ms. Morgan!” a man from the back shouted, his hand raised. “As Cincinnati’s only day-walking demon, have you been questioned in the incident?”

“Told you this was a bad idea . . .” Jenks muttered, and I forced my smile to widen. A sneeze shook me, and Ray patted my shoulder.

“I wasn’t an eyewitness to the incident,” I said truthfully, “but I did blow up a couple of trees so the medical copter could land.” I looked at the I.S. vehicles dramatically. “I’m sure they will blame me for something,” I added, getting the expected laughs. This wasn’t so bad. Making deals with demons had given me practice.

“Do you have an explanation as to what happened to the ley line?” a man in a sports coat asked, holding his mic out over the gate.

“No. I’m on my way home to talk to Al, actually, and find out if the demons know what happened,” I said, then sneezed again. They were coming faster, and nervously I patted Ray on her back as she said “bless you” in a garbled baby talk. “So if there are no more questions?” I said into the suddenly awkward silence.

I took a step backward, and like lions on prey, they pounced. “Is that Ray? Can we have a picture? Are you taking her home? Where is Lucy? What has the I.S. learned so far?”

Jenks was laughing, and I reluctantly turned back around. I scanned the yammering reporters, finding one I recognized. “Mark,” I said, and they all shut up. “You know I can’t divulge what the I.S. finds, and besides, I’ve only seen the search warrant.”

“Why are you taking Ray? Can we have a picture? Was Ms. Dulciate injured in the accident as well?”

I had three to choose from, and I took a step back. “Ms. Dulciate is currently occupied with Lucy. You can understand taking care of two little girls, twins, almost, is enough to drive anyone to distraction. I need to go. It’s nap time.”

“Ms. Morgan. A photo, please. Ms. Morgan!”

Ray was clutching my neck, scared. They’d already snapped pictures of Ray, so that boat had sailed, spent a week at the island, and returned to port for more tourists, but I didn’t want Ray’s fear to be what they walked away from here with. “A picture?” I taunted, and they clamored for one. “Maybe if you would all
shut up
for a moment!” I exclaimed. “You’re yammering so loud that you would scare a third-grade teacher. Okay?”

They didn’t know what to think about that, but they did quiet down, and sure enough, drawn by the sudden silence, Ray pushed herself from my front and turned, her big green eyes wide and looking sweet in the little pink-and-white dress I’d put her in to nap in.

I smiled at the adoring faces of the women as the cameras clicked. I’d give Ceri and Quen one thing—they could make very pretty babies.

But then my smile faded as I noticed a big black car that screamed money driving slowly up to the gate. It was Trent. I knew it. And here I was, showing off Ray like a prize.

“Now you’re in for it,” Jenks said, darting off my shoulder and making Ray jerk as she watched his angling flight to the black car.

“Okay, that’s enough,” I said, hoping that Jenks would put in a good word in for me. I waved cheerfully at the last shouted question as I added, “I gotta go. And if anyone shows up on my doorstep, I will file harassment charges . . . after I let the pixies into your vans. You got it?”