Pale Demon (18 page)

“Get out!” I shouted, hands on my head as I tried not to hammer my forehead into the pavement.

“Rachel Mariana Morgan,” Ku’Sox said, flinging a hand out; I heard Ivy fall back with a grunt. The circle was down.
No. Please no.

“Who has been teaching you such dangerous tricks?” Ku’Sox said, and there was a touch on my shoulder, soft and hesitant.

“Go to…hell,” I panted.
No, not that memory,
I thought in anguish as I saw his reflection in the mirror while I held Kisten as he died.

“Algaliarept?” The stitching in Ku’Sox’s sleeves glinted in the sun as he threw magic at Jenks, and I felt tears form, falling hot on my knees. They were trying to fight him as I sat crumpled on the hot pavement, living my life for the demon. “Why is the dullard letting you wander about here in the sun, little familiar?”

“Get out of my head…” I breathed as I tried not to remember that I wasn’t a familiar but almost an equal. “Get out!”

“Oh!” he exclaimed suddenly as a memory of Trent grew strong. Jonathan was there, his face having Ku’Sox’s eyes. And then I was gasping, my fisted hand scraping the pavement as I tried to get up, alone again in my thoughts. Panting, I bowed my head as the heat soaked into me. Oh God, it had been awful.
My life. He’d seen my entire life.

“You can invoke demon magic?” Ku’Sox said softly, bending over me with the faintest hint of burnt amber between us. But if it was from him or me, I didn’t know.

My breath came in fast as I felt arms go around me. Head lolling, I tried to focus, failing. He was holding me, and I was too tired to even protest. I’d lived my entire life in eight heartbeats, and the heat washed out of me as I fell into shock.

“S-stop,” I managed, jerking when Ku’Sox murmured a word of Latin, and Vivian cried out in pain. The only reason they were still alive was because he was interested in me.

My hand was in a fist, and he brought my bleeding knuckles up to his mouth, licking my blood. Working at it, I managed to focus on him. He had a scar on his eyelid, like Lee. He’d be minus an eye if I could move my other arm.

“You’re a link,” he said, grinning at me like he’d won a doll at the fair. “And you have red hair and wear pants. I
adore
red hair. I once gave an entire generation of witches that color. That was before they locked me in the ground.”

“Put me down,” I demanded, and he did, holding me until I got my balance, but when I tried to escape, his grip tightened about my waist.

“Seems as if I got out just in time,” he murmured, looking me over again. “Why are you dallying with Algaliarept? He’s a hack. But then, he’s probably the best they have now. Unless Newt is still alive. I’ve been gone for…” Squinting, he looked up at the sun in evaluation. “Somewhere in the vicinity of two thousand years?” Frowning, his gaze dropped to me. “Two thousand years and you have red hair. How’s that for a legacy!”

He seemed happy about it, but I was still trying to stand on my own feet. I didn’t like what I was hearing, and I was sure Vivian was even more pleased than she had been. Ku’Sox was indeed a demon. In. The. Sun. I needed answers, but I wanted them from Al, not…Cute Socks here.

Vivian was ashen faced, standing in front of the car with a bit of chalk in her hand. There was an uninvoked circle around Ku’Sox and me, and her intent was clear. Ivy was next to her, and Jenks. The wild pixies still with us were under the car. I met Jenks’s eyes, and he shrugged, pantomiming slugging him.
Might work,
I thought. I’d have a better chance of holding him in a smaller circle than keeping him out of one as large as a car. My heart pounded, and I pulled my foot back and slammed it into Ku’Sox’s shin.

The demon howled, his grip easing just enough.

“Roll!” Jenks shouted, and I dove for the pavement, feeling Vivian’s circle lick my heels as I made it through. A grunt slipped from me as I hit the parking lot again, finding my feet a little more slowly. Hand still clenched around my chalk, I turned, panting. The demon was in a circle—a coven-made circle—and it wasn’t going to hold.

Sure enough, Ku’Sox was pushing at it with a determined expression, smoke rising from where his fingers touched. The familiar scent of burnt amber grew obvious, and I scrambled into motion. Hunched, I crab-walked around Vivian’s circle, praying that the magnetic chalk wouldn’t skip, wouldn’t leave a gap. It had to be perfect. And it still might not hold.

“Rhombus.”
I inhaled as I finished, sitting back on the hot asphalt as the circle formed.

“Son of a Were whore!” Ku’Sox shouted as his smoldering fist broke through Vivian’s barrier only to smack into mine. Yanking his hand back, he shook it as if stung. His washed-out eyes dropped to mine, and I scooted back. It was perfect. It would hold. It had to.

“I couldn’t hold him,” Vivian panted, and I looked to her, haggard and slumped against the car.

I jumped at Ivy’s touch, then relaxed as she helped me up. “You okay?” she asked, and I nodded. Slowly her touch slipped away, and I took a deep breath as if trying to find myself. Trent was leaning against the car, avoiding everyone’s eyes.
Bastard.

I exhaled, scooting back a little more before I got up and wiped the grit from my palms. “Thank you,” I said to Vivian as I tucked the chalk in my waistband, then glanced at Trent, wondering what the hell his game was. Idiot summoned a demon he couldn’t control. What did he expect to happen?

“I couldn’t hold him!” Vivian said again, and I shuffled to her, tired. The upside? At least now the coven had proof that demons could be in reality while the sun was up. Al had done it once while in Lee’s body. But I didn’t think Ku’Sox was possessing anyone. This was something different.
Swell.

“I couldn’t hold him!” Vivian said a third time, and I frowned.

Pierce might have been able to make a circle to hold him. But he wasn’t here. “He’s a big guy,” I finally said, glancing at Ku’Sox and away. “Everyone okay?”

Much to my relief, Ku’Sox didn’t start spouting threats or monologing, and the chorus of pixy shouts brought back memories of Jenks’s kids, memories that Ku’Sox had now. I didn’t like that. If he knew my history, then he knew what I was going to do to him.

“It wasn’t even a very big circle.” Clearly shaken, Vivian sat sideways in the open front seat, dejected and weary.

I looked back at Ku’Sox patiently waiting, and Vivian’s useless scratchings on the pavement. “It’s a tough world.” Limping to Ivy, I leaned back against the warm car. “I don’t know this one,” I said, talking to Vivian but accusing Trent. “He’s nasty.”

“Nasty?” Ku’Sox said, and my eyes jerked to his at the hidden threat his words held.

“If you
ever
touch me again,” I said softly, “I will explode your ’nads. Got it?”

Trent had his head down in thought, worrying me. If I wasn’t so darn tired, I would have barked at him, too. “Demon,” I started, and Ku’Sox grinned in anticipation, making me shiver. He wanted to be released.

“Wait!” Trent said, his hand outstretched.

“You will leave this place and return to the ever-after, not to bother us again,” I finished.

Trent slid to a stop, turning away to hide his disgust, but I’d seen it.

“For now,” Ku’Sox said, his eyes going from Trent to me. They vanished first, then his body, until finally all that was left was a black obsidian feather, making me shudder when it finally melted in the sun.

My eyes shut, and I heard Ivy sigh. “I really hate demons,” she said. I agreed.

“Okay, everyone smaller than a teapot, get out of the car!” I said loudly. “Jenks, you stay. And I swear, if you feral pixies give me any trouble, I’m going to jam you all in a box! I’ll send you your syrup by mail, and you’ll be happy with it. Clear?”

Without a protest, the pixies began to leave in threes and fives, their excited chatter making my already pounding headache hurt all the more. The head pixy wasn’t around, and I didn’t care. Like he’d ever say thank-you. My headache throbbed when Trent walked stiffly past me, sweat matting his pale, baby-fine hair.

“Letting him go like that was a mistake,” he said in passing, and I lashed out, spinning him around to a shocked, angry halt against the car.

“You think we could have used him?” I shouted, and Ivy, putting my scrying mirror away in the trunk, hesitated. “Maybe traded a jump to Seattle for his freedom? Stick to helping with your checkbook. We’ll all live longer.”

Jaw clenched, Trent held his ground as Jenks joined me. “I’m just saying—”

“Nothing!” Okay, I was shouting, but I had a lot of adrenaline to burn before I got back in that car and drove out of here as if nothing had happened. “That was a demon! One in the sun. You think you’re smarter than him? You’re not! You mess with demons, and you
die
!”

His gaze flicked to Vivian. “You work with them,” he said. “Think you’re special?”

That had been barbed and pointed, and it made me angrier still. “I wish I wasn’t, Trent,” I said, managing not to shove him. “I’m so special it’s going to kill me. That one…” I pointed to my empty circle. “That one is bad. Banishing him might cause a problem tomorrow, but nothing like keeping him around and trying to harness him would, and the sooner you get that through your thick skull, the longer we
all
will live. It was my decision to banish him, and you will sit down, shut up—”

“And enjoy the ride,” he finished, the last of his suave businessman exterior vanishing as he bent at the waist and smoothly slipped into the car. He slid to the opposite side and slammed the door shut, waiting.

Ivy gave me an unreadable look, scratching her neck as she got in the backseat beside him and rolled the window down. I was hot and sticky, and Vivian slid across the bench seat to put herself behind the wheel, freeing me to weave my way through a passel of pixies and ride shotgun.

I got in, feeling Trent’s glare on the back of my neck, the heat of the sun on the fake leather seats warm under me. My neck itched, and I realized that we’d been pixed somewhere along the way. Damn it, this was not my day. “I thought you were tired,” I said as I looked across the seat at Vivian, and she frowned.

“I’m awake now.” Saying nothing more, she cranked the engine over, and I fiddled with the vents, aiming them at me. I felt awful, not having showered two mornings in a row.

The pixies were gone, and I whistled for Jenks. He zipped into the car without his usual flair, almost falling as he latched on to the stem of the rearview mirror. His long curly hair swung as he dusted heavily, and I wondered where during the last 150 miles he’d lost his hair band.

“Thanks for driving, Vivian,” I said, and she carefully pulled out onto the road, actually using her turn signal.

The young woman was silent, pensive as she rolled her window up while the air-conditioning took over. “He pushed through my circle like it was nothing,” she said, gaze flicking to me and back to the road, looking embarrassed. “And what was he doing in the sun?” She looked at me, scared. “Did you call it?”

I rubbed the blood off my knuckles, stiffening as I forced myself not to turn and glare at Trent. My blood looked like anyone else’s, but everyone who had blood like mine died unless they’d had three years of illegal genetic tinkering disguised as summer camp.

“Did you?” she asked again, frightened, and I shook my head, staying silent. Jenks’s wings clattered, and I couldn’t meet his eyes. Trent’s voice might be all that stood between me and an Alcatraz jail cell, and I wasn’t going to get him labeled as a demon summoner—yet. Jenks would be quiet, too. And Ivy.

“Demons are coming, Vivian,” I said as I rolled my window up and angled the vents to me. “They’re finding ways around the rules. The genetic checks and balances have been broken, and the demon genome is going to repair itself. We’re going to become who we were. Maybe not this generation, maybe not the next, but when it happens, the witches can either be ready, or they can be pixies being eaten by giant birds.”

Vivian stared at the road, her thoughts on my words. “I have to get to San Francisco. I have to talk to the coven.”

“Me, too.”

Leaning back, I turned my face to be in the light, seeing the bloodred spots of sun even behind my eyelids. I didn’t want to be labeled a black witch and imprisoned, but I was giving the coven a very clear picture of what might happen if they let me live.

And I couldn’t stop myself.

T
he warmth of the sun on my face turned into an irritating come and go of shadow and light, and I stretched. The crackle of a fast-food bag reminded me of why my back ached and why I was sleeping sitting up. Feeling fuzzy, I opened my eyes, glancing at Vivian, currently alternating her attention between the busy urban street and the clock she was trying to change. It must have been the beeps that woke me up. Apparently we’d crossed into another time zone. Six-eighteen. But I felt like it was nine. Somewhere, I’d missed another meal.

Vivian gave me a quick, neutral smile, and turned away. I looked up at the washed-out buildings on either side, wishing I had my sunglasses. We were off the interstate, and there were palm trees, but it didn’t look like L.A. The timing wasn’t right, either.

The street was busy, clogged with traffic and people. Pedestrians were everywhere, and my eyes widened at the three guys dressed in velvet capes. Vampires in the sun? Living, to be sure, but they were Gothed to the max. “Where are we?” I asked.

“Las Vegas,” Trent said from the back, his voice sour.

“Vegas?” Lips parting, I sat up and looked a little closer. Oh yeah. Where else would you get a pyramid and the Eiffel Tower on the same street? Leaning over, I found the map at my feet. “Why are we in Vegas? I thought we were headed for L.A.”
Which probably had vampires roaming the streets in capes as well, come to think of it.

Vivian tightened her grip on the wheel as if I’d brought up a sore subject. Her professionalism was running thin, and the petite woman frowned. “I’m not driving 40 to Bakersfield,” she said through clenched teeth. “We’re going the long way.”

My gaze went to Ivy in a question, and she shrugged. “What’s wrong with Bakersfield?” I finally asked, feeling the tension between Vivian and Trent.

“Nothing.” Vivian frowned, but she still looked cute. Tired, but cute. “It’s 40 I’m worried about. There are no gas stations after Kingman, and we would have run out.”

“Someone’s bad planning,” Trent said softly. “The right person could make a killing.”

Vivian made a huff of noise. “Someone’s good planning, and make a killing is right. The people there don’t want anyone driving through. Going to Vegas doesn’t add much time. Stop complaining. We all want to get to the West Coast as soon as possible.”

I hid a smile. Apparently Vivian and Trent hadn’t been getting along, either. Settling myself, I ogled the people and buildings, acting like the Midwestern goober I was. I’d never seen so many flamboyant people flaunting their differences. It was easy to pick out the tourists with their pale faces and cameras. I’d never thought of myself as a conservative person, but this was like Halloween and Mardi Gras lumped together, a true Inderland playground.

“As long as we don’t stop,” I said, thinking it would be easy to lose a day here.

“We’re stopping,” Ivy said, voice low and confident.

From behind me, Trent muttered, “She speaks, so we must obey.”

“
You
showered this morning,” Ivy said, more loudly than she needed to. “I showered this morning. Vivian and Rachel didn’t, and Rachel fought off a demon in hundred-degree heat. We can stop for an hour.” There was a hesitation, followed by a soft “Besides, I’m hungry.”

“Fine,” Trent said, sounding like a passive-aggressive teenage girl. “But when we get back in the car, I’m driving.”

A shower sounded more than good, and worried about the backseat dynamics, I stretched again. “Could you pick me up a burger or something?” I said around a yawn, eying a tall, blond vamp pacing down the sidewalk in six-inch heels, her clothes hardly covering her important bits. “The faster we get out of here, the better.”

“Burgers?” Trent’s voice dripped disdain, and my tension spiked. “We are in Vegas. This is the first time we might find something that passes for food, and you want burgers?”

I turned in my seat, surprised by how tired he looked, washed out and worried. Trent was never worried. Not enough to let it show, anyway. “Dude, why don’t you stop and think about what your mouth is saying?” I said tightly.

“Children,” Vivian said, not entirely joking, “if you don’t stop arguing, I’m driving right through.”

I turned back around, and Trent muttered, “I get to pick the restaurant.”

Ivy sighed.

“And the hotel,” he added, and she growled in annoyance.

I suddenly felt a whole lot ickier. And hungry. Leaning forward, I began tidying the front seat, tucking the map away and picking up trash.
More Milk Duds boxes?
“Jenks, you okay?” I asked, still not having seen him. It wasn’t like him to miss a chance to join in with picking on Trent, and he wasn’t on his usual seat on the rearview mirror.

“Peachy,” came his voice from under the napkin draped over the open dash ashtray.

“He’s altitude sick,” Ivy said.

I resisted lifting the napkin, but just. “Are you okay?” I asked again, eying the white square. “You don’t sound good.”

“Leave me alone,” he said, a green dust spilling over the rim of the ashtray, then sifting to the floor of the car. “I’ll be fine.”

“You want some pop or anything?”

It wasn’t the right thing to say. In a flurry of motion, Jenks flung the napkin off, flying to an empty cup and throwing up in it, his wings flat against his back as he retched.

“Oh God!” Trent exclaimed. “He’s doing it again.”

“Jenks!” I exclaimed, almost frantic. I mean, when someone throws up, you’re supposed to hold their hair back or make sure nothing hits their shoes, and I was way too big to do either.

“He’s fine,” Trent said so callously that I glared at him. “There’s some honey on the dash. It helps.”

I was ready to smack him, but Vivian handed me the packet, saying, “Flagstaff was really hard. He’ll be okay.”

“I don’t feel so good,” Jenks said, flying wobbly as he got back to his nest.

I shoved the cup in the bag with the rest of the trash, really worried. I knew Jenks tried to hide it, but if he didn’t eat every couple of hours, he suffered. Throwing up could be a big problem. “Are you sure you’re okay?” I asked as I tore open the packet and set it next to him.

Looking pale, he pulled a pair of chopsticks from his back pocket, nodding. “My head hurts.” Eating a bit, he sighed, slumping to fall back when Vivian stopped at a light. We were right on the Strip, but worried about Jenks, I couldn’t look up to see the sights.

“Better,” he said with a sigh, then gave me a look of clarity before the honey kicked in. “I’ll be okay. Just keep the honey coming.”

I exhaled, relieved. He’d tell me if there was a real problem, wouldn’t he? “Just what we need,” I said, finding a smile. “A drunk pixy in Vegas. We’ll fit right in.”

“Not if I eat it slow enough,” he said, easing back, looking relaxed but worn out. “Crap, now I have to pee.”

My smile turned real, and I looked out the window at the people. I wished I had my camera, but then I’d stick out. Well, stick out more than two witches, a vamp, an elf, and a pixy in a powder blue Buick with Ohio plates already did. But then I saw the pack of Weres trotting down the sidewalk, and I decided we didn’t stick out at all.

“I said, I have to pee,” Jenks said again, louder this time, and I appreciated that he wasn’t going to go in a cup.

Vivian leaned forward as she made a turn. “Hold on. I know a quiet hotel off the Strip.”

“Off the Strip?” Trent complained, and I realized just how this trip was wearing on all of us. “We are
not
stopping at some Were-bitten hole in the wall when we can stay at a decent establishment.”

Vivian said nothing as she pulled my mom’s car into a low-budget chain with very little neon on the sign. “We’re not staying,” she said when Trent voiced his disgust. “We’re taking a break, and we’re stopping here because you won’t get past the front desk of one of the big hotels without being recognized.” She turned to him, her childlike face smiling cattily. “You want to be recognized?”

Trent said nothing, and satisfied, she put the car in park at the front office. “You’ve been nothing but a pain in the ass,” she said as she grabbed her purse, just about the only thing she had since we’d kidnapped her. “No wonder Rachel doesn’t like you. I don’t like you, and I like everyone.”

His hand went to his chin, and Trent silently looked out the window, clearly peeved but seeing her logic. Ivy, though, was stirring, putting her boots back on and grabbing her purse.

“Is that Elvis?” I had to ask, seeing a Were in a white leisure suit and gold boots coming out of the office door. The stitching was glowing in the shadows. The man was wearing neon, and he had a Chihuahua in his arms. The dog’s collar was neon, too.

Vivian reached for the door handle, barely glancing at him. “That’s Bob and Chico,” she said shortly. “I lived here before I moved to the coast. Well, not here, exactly, but just outside town. The ley lines are spectacular.”

Really?
I thought as she opened her door and got out. I’d heard they were numerous, but I had always thought it was part of the sell line.

“Everyone stays here, okay?” she said from outside, looking harassed, a hand on her hip and her clothes rumpled. She hadn’t put on any makeup, and her once-slick hair was more like straw now. It made her trendy purse look like a cheap knockoff. “I’ll get a room and then you can all go get something to eat,” she said, eyes narrowed in annoyance. “I don’t need a bunch of you in the office with me. I can handle this.”

Ivy, of course, was getting out, and Vivian gave her a tired look. “I don’t trust you,” Ivy said with absolutely no remorse or guilt. “No hard feelings.”

“None taken,” the small woman said with the same detachment. “The rest of you stay.”

Jenks’s wings hummed, but he didn’t move from the tissue-lined ashtray. “I gotta pee,” he grumbled, but Vivian had shut the door, and the two walked in together, Vivian looking small next to Ivy’s bruised and battered height.

“I really have to pee,” he said again, this time his eyes beseechingly on mine.

I cranked the window all the way down, and he rose unsteadily into the air. “When did Vivian become everyone’s mother?” I said, and he flew in a wobbling path outside. “Stay close, okay?” I said, noticing that he didn’t have a scrap of red on him.

“Yeah, whatever,” he said, then flew giggling to the sheared rosemary lining the path to the door.

I watched him, unable to stop my sigh. Silence descended, and as the insects buzzed, I became keenly aware of Trent, in the back. He had summoned a demon, not once, but twice. A day-walking demon. He said he’d done it to help. I wanted to believe him, but this had to stop. He wasn’t proficient with magic, and he was doing more harm than good.

Twisting to see Trent, I said, “We need to talk.”

His eye twitched. Without a word, he unlocked his door and pushed it open, his foot catching the heavy door as it bounced back into him. Getting out, he shut the door and leaned against it, his back to me as he looked toward the Strip, a few blocks away.

Peeved, my eyes narrowed. I was too tired right now to push the issue. After I had a burger, I’d pin him to the wall and demand some answers.

Even though we were off the Strip, there was a definite flow of people headed for it, passing us with either a fast pace with loud chatter or silent with a dull drudgery. The high-magic amulet detector on my bag was glaring red, but the lethal-magic one was quiet. Remembering what Vivian had said, I reached for a ley line to see how some little city in the desert stacked up to my Cincinnati.

“Oh my God,” I breathed as the reason for my slight headache became apparent. The ley lines were everywhere, thick, thin, long, and short, crisscrossing in a chaotic mess in every compass direction. It looked like someone had dropped a handful of pickup sticks. Las Vegas was on a damn rift or something, time fractured and barely holding together. Awed, I shook myself from the mental sight of so much power hovering over the desert sand, then promptly sneezed, my hair flying in my face at the quick jerk.

Oh, great
, I thought as I wiped my nose, but the sun was still up, so there was no reason not to answer Al, if Al it was. Leaning over to the driver’s seat, I popped the trunk and got out.

“What are you doing?” Trent asked belligerently as I shuffled through the trunk for my scrying mirror, giving him an insincere smile as I pulled it out.

“You ever use my mirror without my knowledge again, and I’m going to bust it over your head,” I said. “And we are going to talk. We could all have gotten killed back there, or worse. Leave the magic to the professionals. Businessman.”

He frowned as he took in my threat, and he looked like a spoiled brat standing there with his arms over his middle, wearing black from head to toe, a slight flush to his cheeks. Damn, he looked good, though, and I sneezed again as I sat down, leaving my door open for the cross breeze.

Trent turned to watch me set the mirror on my lap, and I shivered as the cold glass seemed to adhere to me, going right through my jeans. The silver-and-wine color threw back the haze of the setting sun, looking more beautiful yet. Another sneeze shook me, and I frowned. Yup, it was Al.

Ignoring Trent as he moved around the car to better spy on me, I put my hand on the scrying mirror in the cave of the pentagram. I connected to one of the smaller lines, and the rest was easy.
Rachel calling Al, come in Al…,
I thought dryly.

The link formed in an instant, with a fury that left me blinking.
Son of a bitch!
echoed in my thoughts, foreign adrenaline slamming into me. Al was in pain. He wasn’t talking to me; he was in excruciating, mind-numbing pain.

Al?
I thought, confused as flashes of power and half-understood spells roared through my consciousness, too fast to be realized. My lips parted, and I pressed my hand more firmly into the glass. Furious Latin uncoiled from his mind as he twisted communal stored spells. They rose from the depths of two thousand years, created during a time of war, and all the uglier for having been roused and thrust into existence with no warning. Black and sickly, I felt them pass through my mind, coating me in Al’s memory of what it was like to be in pain and how to crush another with one’s thoughts.