Home > Pale Demon (The Hollows #9)(44)

Pale Demon (The Hollows #9)(44)
Author: Kim Harrison

Jenks rose unsteadily and laboriously flew to my shoulder, and my earring pulled as he fell against it. I looked up the path to the unseen car, taking Ivy's arm to be sure she was okay, too.

"You didn't get hit by anything, did you?" I demanded, but she wasn't listening, her eyes riveted to the outcrop of stone behind me. The pixies were shrilling at the piercing croak of a bird, and I turned.

A bird? I thought, and then everything shifted. The Ku'Sox Sha-Ku'Ru wasn't a party; it was a bird. A big-ass bird, like a stork. And it was..."It's eating them," I whispered, horror filling me. "Oh my God, that bird is eating them!"

I stood frozen in disbelief, not comprehending it. The second and third leaders were shouting directions, so fast and high-pitched that I couldn't understand them, but it was clear enough as the arrows and spears once pointed at us now fell on the bird. It cawed, the harsh sound crawling through my mind and making me shudder as it echoed off the stone.

"Oh my God," Ivy gasped.

I spun, blinking when a new shadow fell over us. "You!" I exclaimed stupidly as Trent half-slid to a halt beside us, breathing hard and looking tired. "I told you to wait in the car! We've got this!"

"I can see that." His words clipped, Trent eyed the battle, his lips pressed tight. "Shouldn't we be going?"

Pixies were screaming, the sound becoming panicked. "What, now?" I exclaimed. "We have to help them!"

"The pixies who kidnapped your partner?" Trent said, frowning. "Why?"

"Why?" I echoed him. "Because it was a misunderstanding! We got it worked out. I just need three gallons of maple syrup!"

Trent's face became white. "Oh." He licked his lips and shifted from foot to foot. "Um, maybe we should leave anyway," he said, taking my arm and pulling me a step up the path.

"Rache?" Jenks warbled. "I can't fly."

"Do you not see what's going on here?" I said as I yanked out of Trent's grip and pointed, my finger dropping when a pixy screamed, trying to free itself from the bird's long beak, even as it vanished in a toss and a sharp snap. The pixy's clansmen and women were stabbing at the gray, storklike bird, firing arrows and throwing spears, but it simply jerked its head to catch another warrior who got too close, wings flapping as it hopped to a rock where its footing was better. Feathers gave it protection, and it seemed immune to the poison.

"There is a bird," I said, "eating pixies. Do you have any idea how wrong that is?"

"We need to get out of here," he insisted, and my attention snapped back to him. He tossed the hair from his eyes, and my heart seemed to stop. His ears were bleeding. Again.

"What did you do...," I whispered, scared. Trent began walking away, and I glanced at Ivy, seeing her closed expression. Pushing into motion, I followed him, my heart pounding. He stank like cinnamon and spoiled wine. "What did you do?" I demanded, and he ignored me, not slowing down.

"I thought you needed help," he said, and I yanked at his arm, pulling him to a stop at the top of the hill. Frightened, I grabbed his chin and shifted his head. He let me do it. There was a handprint on his neck, but it was the blood dripping from his ears and nose that struck fear in me. The arch. He had bled at the arch, too, and he smelled like elven magic. Thought we needed help?

"Tell me what you did!" I said as I looked down the hill to the car. The trunk was open, and my scrying mirror was out, glinting in the sun. Vivian was slumbering in the back as if immune to the noise. Sleeping or out cold? "Oh my God!" I exclaimed as I pieced it together. "Did you use my mirror to make a deal with a demon?"

The bird cawed. Ivy stood next to me, and Jenks started swearing. Trent's jaw clenched, jerking as a horrible croaking came from over the hill. "Yes," he said.

The single word hit me like a slap. "That was you under the arch?" I stammered, being drawn forward as Trent doggedly paced downhill to the car. "You put yourself in a ley line and called on a demon under the arch!" I accused. "That force I shoved into those assassins wasn't from you, and it wasn't from the assassins. It was from a demon! And when I pushed the energy back into him, he tried to bury us all under the arch. You asked a demon for help and it almost killed you. And now you go and ask for his help again? Are you insane?"

Jenks had taken to the air, hovering backward and watching our backs as well as our faces. He looked as scared as I felt.

"It can't kill me now," Trent said, his jaw clenched. "You'll be fine. Trust me."

"Trust you!" I shouted, and Ivy grabbed my arm as I went to shove him. Feeling it, Trent stopped, looking angry and unrepentant as he turned to me.

"It can't snatch you because of me!" I exclaimed, shaking off Ivy's hold and pushing him in the chest. Trent stumbled back, but I was moving forward, getting in his face. "You used me! I freed you as a familiar, and you used me!"

Trent became more grim looking, his gaze darting behind me as the sound of fighting pixies grew loud and the harsh cawing of the stork echoed. Ivy was at my shoulder, a hand on her hip. "The coven might be interested in that. Trent Kalamack dabbling in demonology."

"If you tell her, then Rachel doesn't have a chance," he said, and I realized it was true.

"Uh, Rache?" Jenks said nervously, perched on Ivy's shoulder. "They're coming this way."

"You are an idiot," I said softly, shaking inside. "You have no idea what you've done."

Trent tugged his clothes straight as if he were wearing a three-piece suit and not a black T-shirt and a pair of jeans. "I suggest we leave before it finishes eating them."

I dropped back a step, almost laughing, as disgusted as I was. Ivy was staring at him in disbelief. "I'm not going to walk away from this. It's eating them!"

"Rachel, no!" Trent shouted, but I was beyond listening, and I leaned back as he came forward, bringing my foot up just in time for him to run right into it. He hit with a jarring that shifted me, and he fell backward holding his middle, taking Ivy with him. They sprawled on the paved footpath, and as Jenks darted to my shoulder, I turned to the bird.

"Celero inanio!" I shouted, throwing a ball of glowing ever-after at the harshly croaking stork, its ugly neck skin flapping. Yes, it was a black curse, but it was a bird eating pixies-pixies I had found a way to deal with peacefully. I was already mumbling, "I take the smut," as the curse to boil the blood in a living creature sped across the short distance, slamming into the bird to destroy it in a ball of curse-ridden magic.

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