Newt drew herself up, her black eyes flicking over Ivy, not afraid, but assessing. "The leak is too wide. I've run out of room. You and Al, and I myself now, are so far in debt that there's nothing left."
"I've got a bushel basket full of truth," I said as I shifted in my chair to face her square on. "I know what you looked like. I saw the Eden your war destroyed. Ku'Sox knows only what you've shown him, and I'm sorry, Newt, but you've shown him only the present, not your past. You really want him in charge of your future?"
She hesitated, fingers clenching on the staff.
"I know you're afraid," I said, and she barked in laughter.
"Afraid of you!"
"Not of me," I said. "You're afraid of the endless days continuing with no change. You're tired. You think Ku'Sox is how you can let go and still continue on, but look at him. He's not you, he doesn't have your soul. That's why he keeps trying to eat them."
She was listening, and I sat up, trying to look like I knew what I was talking about. "Look at how he's getting past the elven curse. He's stealing babies. He's stealing the wisdom to keep them alive. I broke the curse you put on the elves, and I can damn well break the curse that keeps you stuck in the hell you both made of your paradise. I can free you, Newt. You can finish free of the ever-after as you began it."
Newt swallowed hard. A tear slipped from her, and she wiped it away, shocked. Behind her, pixies were plastered against the window, watching. "We had wings."
I smiled. "You flew between the clouds and the moon."
Her eyes came to me. "It's not a dream."
"No. This? This nothing that you live in?" My hand lifted and fell. "This is the nightmare you made for yourself. Let me wake you up."
Her lungs heaved as she took a deep breath. She looked scared, wild. She might do anything. "Strike me," she said softly, her stick held tight in her grasp.
From the floor by the fridge, Jenks rose up, wings clattering. "Whoa, whoa, whoa!" he said. Newt took a firm stance and pointed the butt of her staff at Ivy as the woman got to her feet, listing but ready to attack.
"Easy!" I shouted, standing up and holding out a hand. "Everyone just take it easy!"
Newt grimaced, and then, as if having a sudden thought, she set the end of her stick on the floor and calmed. "Wait," she said, and Ivy hesitated, ready to jump at her. "Let's find something from your closet for you to wear. Then you can strike me."
Totally confused, I blinked. "Why?"
Smiling to scare the bejeebers out of me, she came forward, watching me but keeping that staff of hers between her and Ivy and Jenks. "I need a reason for you to be alive come sunup. I'll tell them you hit me."
Jenks darted into the back room, his swearing dropping like golden apples. Nick was gone, apparently, but I could do nothing as Newt looped an arm in mine and a pulse of magic from her lifted through my hair, shattering the sanctity of the church. Damn it, she'd done it again!
"I can give you until sunrise. Then you will be summoned and you will die," Newt added, making me feel all warm and cozy.
"Tonight?" Jenks yelped as he flew back in, an angry red dust showing his path. "What happened to her four days?" Then he turned to me, his dust almost catching fire. "Rache, we got a problem. Nick ran off."
Newt hesitated at the threshold of the hallway, cautiously testing the sanctity with the butt of her staff. "That little worm of a man?" she said. "He owes me a familiar. Maybe two. I don't remember."
She gestured, and Nick popped into existence on the table beside me. I spun as Trent's books hit the floor, and then Ivy was on him, her eyes dark as she pulled him off and slammed him up against the wall. Dazed, Nick struggled to focus, then breathe when she gave a little squeeze, clearly enjoying herself.
Newt still had her arm in mine as she half turned to watch. Her hair was now my length, and I started. "You're Ivy . . ." the crazy demon said, and Nick coughed violently as Ivy's grip went slack in surprise. "I think I liked you."
Jenks and I exchanged a panicked look, and I turned Newt back to the hallway and away from Ivy. "Ah, let me show you what I've got picked out," I said, almost pulling her into the hall. Behind us, I heard Nick hit the floor with a pained grunt.
Looking over my shoulder at the stove clock, my gut clenched. Call Quen about the new deadline, pick out my clothes with Newt, keep Ivy from killing Nick. Was I forgetting anything?
"You have until sunrise," the demon said, looking at the pixies hovering at the top of the hall in the sanctuary as she led me to my closet. "Not because I particularly like you, you understand. I simply can't do all that you charge me with. You're going to have to do that yourself."
Chapter Twenty-Five
There's-s-s a car at the curb," Belle said as she appeared at my open bedroom door, and a jolt went through me. Quen. Finally.
"Tell Ivy to stay put. I'll get it," I said when six enthusiastic pixies darted into my room with the same message, all of them chattering loud enough to give me a headache. "Ivy!" I shouted before she could move. "I'll get it. You watch Nick."
I touched the rings in my pocket for reassurance as I shooed everyone out of my room and shut the door behind me. Pace fast, I headed for the sanctuary. Ivy was where I'd left her on the couch, stretched out and dangerously languorous, and I gave Nick a disparaging glance as I passed. "Don't let him move, whatever happens, okay?" I asked Jenks, and he left my shoulder to stand on the coffee table beside Jax. The smaller, tattered pixy shied at the soft clatter of his dad landing, and I hoped that the two of them would start to talk again.
Stomach churning, I went to the door, promising myself that if I lived through this, I was finally going to get a light in the foyer.
"It's Quen!" one of Jenks's kids said in excitement as I undid the bolt to the front door and peeked out into the lamp-lit dark.
Relief filled me as I pushed the heavy oak door open wider in invitation. Quen was getting out of the black beamer parked at the curb, and my face warmed as I remembered him charging me with Trent's safety. And here I was the one asking him to help me. At midnight. On a weekday. To save the world a day ahead of schedule.
His hair slicked back, Quen was wearing all black again and soft-soled shoes. My eyes fell as I remembered the first time I had seen him. He'd looked like a gardener. Perhaps that was what he'd truly like to be.
"How are the girls?" I asked, and he brought his gaze back from where he'd been saying a soft hello to the pixy bucks braving the cold to escort him in. The light on the sign over the door made creases in his face. Or maybe it was the burden of his life balancing on a fine point. It was going to fall one way or the other.