The Undead Pool (14 page)

Ellasbeth still hovered in the doorway, a new understanding in her. “I'm sorry.”

Ivy's expression was empty. “It wasn't your fault. He attacked her in her sleep.”

“Still, I'm sorry. I didn't know.”

It was the first honest thing I thought I'd ever heard from Ellasbeth, and I almost liked her as I leaned against the counter and just . . . breathed. “You did good, Nina. It won't be so hard next time. I promise.”

Nina managed a smile. “Thank you.”

There were tears in Ivy's eyes as she helped Nina to the table, tears and love for both of us. The love for me in the past, and the love for Nina in the future. And somehow, as the four of us women slowly picked up the threads of our lives and began to awkwardly weave them anew, it didn't hurt anymore.

Eight

R
ay was a comfortable armful of quiet as she sat on my lap in the kitchen, her eyes on the book that Lucy had brought in from the toy box I had for the rare occasions that Trent brought them to the church. Even the distraction of Jenks's kids couldn't take her attention from the picture book. Still, she didn't reach for it when Lucy ran to me, collapsing on my knees in excitement and a bid for my attention.

“Sasha!” the little girl said brightly as she shoved the book at me and ran out.

“That's the name of her pony at the Withons' estate,” Quen said, and I scrambled to catch it before it slid to the floor. Only now did Ray reach for it, and I shifted her so she could hold and turn the pages herself. I didn't think Ray's reluctance to reach for the book earlier was because she was afraid of her sister, but simply knowing that her distractible sibling would keep it if Lucy knew Ray wanted it too.

“I didn't think horses were that important to the Withons,” I said, and the man turned his attention from his daughter to the hallway. Ellasbeth and Trent were having a chat in the back living room, one that was probably long overdue, and their voices were a soft murmur.

“The pony was my idea,” he said, his motions smooth as he moved deeper into the kitchen. Quen wasn't small, but a person tended not to notice him unless he wanted to be noticed. Both he and Ray had dark hair, uncommon to elves. It might be a remnant from the elves' recently dropped tradition of hybridizing with humans, but I doubted it. Quen was one of the most elven elves I knew, clever, powerful in his magic, and graceful beyond reason.

“I didn't want their horsemanship to suffer in the time spent away from home,” he added as he clasped his hands behind his back, stoic as he waited for Ellasbeth to say what she wanted so he could, hopefully, take her back to the airport.

I smiled as Lucy ran back in, blond hair flying. “Belle!” the excited toddler shouted, dropping a sparkly fairy doll on Ray's book and running out, pixy girls in tow. Ray promptly threw the toy after her and returned to her book. The tension from the back room was ebbing, but I was still glad that Ivy and Nina had excused themselves shortly after Trent's arrival. Belle, too, had retired to the garden. The wingless fairy was a brilliant strategist, but she was pretty much helpless against the grasping toddlers, especially when Rex, Jenks's cat, had dumped her to hide under my bed at the first little-girl “Here kitty, kitty.”

“Jenks, stay in here,” I said when the pixy rose from the windowsill to follow her out.

“I can't hear crap from here, Rache,” he muttered as he landed on my shoulder. Ray looked up when his dust fell on her fingers. Slowly she turned her palm up, mesmerized at the spot of sunshine she could touch.

“That's the idea.” I'd watched Ellasbeth turn green when the girls had greeted me with enthusiasm, then white when they'd toddled off to the toy box, clearly knowing where it was.

Quen smiled thinly, finally lowering himself to sit on the edge of a chair beside the fridge. “Any problems while I was gone?” he asked, looking at Ivy's new monitor in envy.

“Apart from the recent magic misfires and no functioning undead vampire in the Cincinnati area?” I helped Ray turn the page, and she sang out, “Thank you,” charming me with her little-girl voice. “No,” I said softer, the scent of her hair tweaking my maternal instincts. “Mr. Ray and Mrs. Sarong have started campaigning for their picks for the next mayoral battle, and there's been some noise about the parks Trent made in the abandoned warehouse district being better used for commercial, meaning gambling. Couple of death threats with low credibility, but I forwarded that to you.”

Quen squinted as he noticed the scratches Bis had made on the ceiling. “Thank you.”

His attention fell to Lucy as she ran in and dropped a train book on Ray's lap. “No!” Ray demanded, shoving it off, but Lucy was gone.

I leaned to pick it up and set it on the table, now cleared of any and all FIB-gathered evidence. “It's been my pleasure. I'm glad you're back, though. These misfires and increased vampire violence have problem written all over them.”

“You think the two are linked?” he asked, his concern obvious, and I nodded.

From the back room, Ellasbeth's voice rose in hurt. “I'm staying until this matter is settled. If not with you, then downtown. There's one decent hotel in Cincinnati. The service is lacking, but the food is bearable.”

“I didn't say you weren't welcome; I asked you to not antagonize my staff,” Trent said. “Maggie has been with me since my parents died. She's not an employee, she's family.”

“I'm sorry. I wasn't aware,” Ellasbeth said softly, and I winced. She was being very contrite—meaning she was up to something.

Lucy came back in, and Ray looked up in annoyance at the glitter ball in her hands. “I'll take it, Lucy,” I said, and laughing, the little girl threw it, watching it bounce on the floor before running back into the living room. The ball rolled to a halt and Quen scooped it up.

“How's the weather on the coast?” I asked, wishing they'd hurry up.

“The lines are intolerable. I'd do this for the girls, no one else.” He shifted the ball in his hands, watching the glitter move before he set it on the table beside the book of trains. His expression froze when Trent said, “I'll have your room refreshed immediately.”

Jenks snickered, and Ray patted the dust suddenly spilling over the book. She looked up at him, beautiful as she smiled and held a small hand up for him to land on.

“My room?” Ellasbeth said. “Trent, I was hoping—”

Her voice cut off at his soft comment, and I cringed. TMI. I was getting too much information. I knew her moving back in with Trent was inevitable, but did she have to bring it up where I could hear it? But remembering how she'd flashed that never-returned engagement ring, she probably did.

I couldn't help my sigh. Ray looked up and patted my cheek, and I flushed when Quen's brow furrowed in suspicion. “So you've been enjoying the work?” he asked, and I was saved answering immediately when Lucy raced in with a Bite Me Betty doll.

I set the doll aside as she ran out. “I don't care to work for most of the people looking to hire a demon,” I said, thankful the solicitations for evil curses and bad karma spells had stopped.

Trent's expression was closed when he came in with Ellasbeth. The woman had Lucy on her hip, and the toddler was fussy, clearly not happy with half the toy box still unemptied. There was a book in Ellasbeth's hand. I knew that wasn't going to fly: Ray studied, Lucy explored. They were going to be a potent team if they ever learned to understand each other. Seeing Ellasbeth, Trent, and Lucy together, the resemblance was more than obvious, and my smile faltered. Lucy looked a lot like her mother, too. They were the perfect family.

“Ellasbeth is going to stay and help with the girls until the misfires can be explained and rectified,” Trent said as he stood just within the kitchen, not a hint to his mood in his tone.

“Nice,” Jenks muttered, then took off from my shoulder. Lucy began to wiggle, clearly wanting to play in the temporary sunbeam. Ignoring her, Ray turned a page.

Ellasbeth pulled out one of the chairs from the table and sat, expertly wrangling the complaining toddler. Her gaze shifted between Trent and me as if looking for evidence we were lovers. It made me nervous, guilty almost, and I hadn't really done anything. “It's not the misfires as much as the out-of-control vampires I'm concerned with,” she said as she tried to distract Lucy with the book.

“Me too,” I said faintly.

Quen, who had stood when Trent came in, nodded. “Very good, Sa'han. I'll call ahead and have Ellasbeth's room refreshed.”

Ellasbeth smiled stiffly, giving up on the book and taking the Bite Me Betty doll when I handed it to her. “Thank you, Quen. I'd appreciate that.”

Trent clapped his hands once. “So, Rachel. What have you and Ivy pieced together?”

“Ah, it's rather sensitive,” I started, and Ellasbeth frowned. “I don't mind telling you, Ellasbeth,” I added quickly. “Especially since you'll be dealing with it, but don't go telling your best friend on the coast.”

She made a short bark of laughter. “I'm a scientist,” she said, sour enough to curdle milk. “I know how important proprietary information is. I can keep my mouth shut.”

She probably did,
I mused, having forgotten that aspect of her. “Sorry.” I stood and set Ray down, not liking the image of the two of us dueling over the girls' affections. The little girl wobbled for a moment, then carefully toddled into the living room and the toys. Lucy wiggled until Ellasbeth had no choice but to let her down.

“Mine!” Lucy shouted, and Jenks darted after them. Ellasbeth stared at Trent, then Quen, frowning when neither man followed them to supervise.

“Jenks is in there,” Trent finally said, and the woman eased back in her chair, clearly not liking it but wanting to leave the room even less.

“Ah, we still have no clue as to why the wave is making the undead sleep,” I said, retreating until the center island counter was between me and Ellasbeth. “But Ivy has been over the raw data from the misfires, and when you figure in my location, there's an indication that it is ah, attracted to some degree to, ah . . . me.”

Trent swore softly. Quen started, and I nodded, feeling ill. Ellasbeth brought her attention back from the too-quiet living room. “Jenks thinks it's because my aura has the same signature as the line it's coming from,” I said. “Whatever it is, it's not too bright. It went right past me when we were at the golf course, continuing on until I'd moved my location, so maybe it's more like a delayed magnetic response.”

“Interesting.” Trent took Ivy's chair, sitting down with a thoughtful look.

“Trent,” Ellasbeth prompted when the girls began to fight over something.

“They're fine,” Trent said distantly. “The room is baby-proof and Jenks is in there.”

But Jenks let his kids tease bumblebees, knowing a sting might mean their death. Uncomfortable, I crossed my arms over my chest and leaned against the counter. “David thinks the wave might be caused by a vampire faction that promotes a masterless lifestyle.”

“Free Vampires?” Trent said, surprising me.

“That's them.” I pushed the flyer to him, and he took it. “There's been a big jump in their numbers since, ah, Kisten died.” Which was sort of embarrassing, but at least they hadn't tried to make me a saint's concubine.

“I looked them up this morning.” Trent's lips were quirked in an almost smile, knowing firsthand about the playboy living vampire. “They didn't seem that well organized.”

Ellasbeth sniffed. “David? Isn't that your insurance friend, Rachel?”

I took an irate breath, words cutting off when Trent interrupted me, saying, “You'd be surprised at the amount of sensitive information insurance companies gather, Ellie. If David says there might be a connection, then it's worth giving more than a little consideration.”

Miffed, she fiddled with the strap on her purse.

“Personally?” I said, feeling the weight of her stare on me. “I'd rather believe that it's a natural phenomenon, even if it's coming from my line and tracking me like a slime mold, because if vampires are doing this, they're getting the magic to control it from somewhere.”

“Demons,” Trent whispered.

“Well, it wouldn't be witches,” I said sourly. “I'm scared to even wear a makeup charm.” Especially after seeing what one did to the face of that poor woman at the theater. “There're easier ways to get rid of vampires. Ways that don't cause this much fallout.”

I wanted it to be a natural artifact so bad, but with that Kisten look-alike on the bridge, Felix being awake, and the Free Vampire graffiti . . . The living didn't prey on the undead. It was the other way around. “I was thinking about talking to Al today,” I said hesitantly.

Immediately Trent brightened. “You think he'd tell you if it was demon mischief?”

“No, no, Lucy!” Jenks yelled from the living room. “Don't put that in your mouth. Hey!”

I shrugged. “I want to look at my line again before I tell Edden about the Free Vampire angle, but honestly, he probably already knows. Their graffiti is everywhere,” I said as Ellasbeth glared at the men to do something about their children. “I should probably tell Edden the waves are following me, though.” Telling Al might be a mistake. Maybe I should take the afternoon and drive out to Loveland and look at my line myself.

The screams from the living room grew more strident. No one moved, and finally Ellasbeth stood, her chair sliding dramatically. Trent touched Ellasbeth's hand in thanks in passing, then turned to me. “Mind if I come with you?”

Ellasbeth's pace jerked to a stop, and I blinked.
To Al's? Was he serious?

“A-Ah, why?” I stammered as I pushed up from the counter. “I mean, I don't mind . . .” I hesitated, remembering how Trent's freedom seemed to be halved when Quen was around. “Sure. Jenks can't be in the ever-after when the sun is up, and I'd appreciate the company.”

Quen's face lost its expression and Ellasbeth stiffened, ignoring the increasing pixy panic from the living room.

“I've not seen Algaliarept for over three months,” Trent said, clearly trying to head off their coming protests. “I want to keep the lines of communication open. And I need to thank him for a few things. Or I could just use the vault door and pop over.”

“Sa'han,” Quen said, warning thick in his tone, and Trent leaned confidently back in his chair, ankle coming up to rest on a knee. When done in his office surrounded by his things, it was effective. Here in my kitchen on a hard-backed chair—not so much.