Home > Pale Demon (The Hollows #9)(128)

Pale Demon (The Hollows #9)(128)
Author: Kim Harrison

Slowly I let go of the last of my reservations, feeling his energy spill into my chi, kindling it back to brightness. He started to pull away, but I wouldn't let him, reaching out and pulling him back. I wanted more. He could have everything, just give me...a little more.

"Tink's pink dildo, all that money and he can kiss, too," came a high-pitched, sarcastic voice and the clatter of pixy wings.

My breath caught, and I felt myself drop into nothing. My lips on Trent's stopped moving, and I realized I could smell disinfectant. My eyes flew open.

I was sitting upright in a hospital bed, my arms wrapped around Trent as he sat beside me. My hands were buried in his hair and his hands were curved around me, holding my backside-rather tightly.

"You little prick!" I shouted, smacking him. Trent sucked in his breath and fell back. The sharp crack was startling, and Jenks laughed merrily, dripping a bright silver dust as he flew backward to Ivy, sitting calmly in a nearby chair. Damn it, she was smiling at me, her eyes bright with unshed tears. She was okay! They both were! My face flamed as I realized they had seen me...enjoying myself. Enjoying Trent. But they were okay, and a knot of fear loosened.

"You said it was only in my imagination!" I exclaimed, turning back to Trent as he stood up and the bed shifted. "You said no one would know!" My eyes darted to the cold feel of metal around my wrist. "And what is this!" There was a band of charmed silver on me. No wonder my head hurt. I was cut off from the ley lines.

"Don't take it off!" Jenks shrilled as I tried to push it over my wrist, and I let go of it, frightened by his fervor. Maybe my aura wasn't healed enough to tap a line.

Looking unruffled, Trent tugged his shirt straight, the bright imprint of my hand on his stubbled face. There was a large bruise on the other side, spreading up under his hairline, looking ugly. His right hand was bandaged, and my anger dissolved when I saw that he was missing two fingers, just like in my dream. What had happened?

"Would you have kissed me if you had known it was real?" he asked, and when I simply stared at him, my face flaming, he turned on his heel. "Ivy, Jenks," he said, looking stiff as he reached for a cane. "It's been a pleasure."

My jaw dropped when his pace was awkward, and then I saw his foot, in a cast. "Trent, wait!" I called, but he kept walking, his back stiff and his neck red. Jenks and Ivy exchanged a heavy look, and I tried to get up, failing. "Trent, I'm sorry for slapping you! Come back. Please! Thank you for getting me out of there. Don't make me crawl after you. I'm sorry! Damn it, I'm sorry!"

He stopped, his arm stiffly holding open the wide hospital door. The hall noise slipped in, both familiar and hated, and then...he let the door shut and turned back around. I exhaled, falling back against the raised bed, shaking in exhaustion.

"Hey, Rache!" Jenks buzzed close. "What's it like being dead?"

"A lot like being a sixties housewife. What happened?" Trent said I'd been out for three days. Three days? Where was Pierce? And Bis?

My attention shot to the top of the wardrobe, and a new fear joined the rest when I found him there. The gargoyle was sleeping, an exhausted pale gray with a baby bottle in his tight grip. But what scared me was that I'd known where he was. Even though I was cut off from the ley lines, my eyes had gone right to him. Bis had saved me. Our fates were bound together, and there was nothing I could do about it. He'd chosen me, and now I was responsible for him. For life.

Ivy stood, and I wasn't surprised when she leaned over the bed and gave me a hug, shocking me from my thoughts. The spicy scent of vampire soaked into me, better than a calming spell. I smiled up at her warmth, feeling loved. "Welcome back," she whispered, and then she pulled away, her eyes black and tearful. "I have to go, but I'll come back when your dinner tray is here."

"You're leaving?" I said, not liking how my voice wobbled. My gaze darted between her and Bis. "Why?"

"Jenks and I have something to do," she said, giving the pixy a pointed look.

Jenks hovered between us, spilling a red dust. His hands were on his hips in his best Peter Pan pose. "Like what?" he shot at her. "We've done nothing but sit here for three days while you've moaned and pissed over Rachel, and now that she's awake, you want to leave?"

My gaze went to Trent, standing by the window, his back to us.

"Yes," Ivy said, and I jumped when she gathered my blankets and pulled them up around me, hiding my arms. They were pink, as if I had a sunburn. Ivy and Jenks looked okay, but Trent was a mess. Bis looked kind of gaunt, too. I was afraid to look in a mirror. I had been bleeding from my pores. And Trent had saved me. Maybe twice. Maybe three times.

Seeing my worry, Ivy started to drift back.

"See you around, Rache," Jenks said, humming loudly as Ivy gave me a last touch on the shoulder and walked out, her boots clattering confidently on the tile. I remembered hearing them in my dreams, their cadence frightened and hesitant. The noise from the hall grew loud, then soft, then silent.

My eyes went to my band of charmed silver, rising to find Trent when the memory of that kiss made my face warm-until my gaze dropped to his cast, then rose to take in his hand. He was missing two fingers. I was missing three days.

"Thank you," I whispered, but what I wanted to say was, what happened?

Trent's silhouette stiffened, his back still to me. "You said that," he said softly.

I tried to shift my weight farther up the pillow, and the blanket that Ivy had tucked around me fell down. "I'm sorry for slapping you," I added.

Still he didn't turn. "You said that, too."

His voice was low and soft, and I remembered him singing to me in words I didn't understand, holding my soul together. Grimacing, I tried again. "Uh, you're a good kisser. It was nice."

His bandaged hand shifted behind his back as he turned to me, wonder in his expression. "Is that why you asked me to stay?"

I managed a thin smile. "No, but I figured you'd turn around if I said it." He frowned, his thoughts somewhere else, and I added, "You're supposed to say I'm a good kisser, too."

At that, he chuckled, but his smile faded fast. Awkward, he moved to an empty chair, one not as close to me as Ivy's was, but here nevertheless. His eyes flicked to Bis as he sat down, and then a heavy sigh escaped him, a world of hurt in the sound. "You want to know what happened," he said flatly, more of a statement than a question.

I fingered the band of braided silver around my wrist. It was heavy, more substantial than the one I'd had on in Alcatraz. A faint tingling came from it, not ley line in origin. Wild, elven magic. I flushed again, remembering the kiss, remembering letting his magic flow through me, kindling my chi back to life.

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