Pale Demon th-9 Read online

  Already inside, my mother turned, her chin up and her eyes glinting. “Get the hell out of the way,” she said loudly as she shoved her way back to us and claimed Ivy’s elbow. “Don’t you know who this is? Move, or I’ll jam this broomstick up your ass.”

  Pierce stood speechless, but I was grinning. “Yep, that’s my mother,” I said, then followed Ivy when my mother yanked her over the threshold, glaring at the man as if ready to make good on her threat if he made so much as a peep. The door attendant was way outclassed, and he gave up, cowed.

  Ivy glanced over her shoulder at me as my mother led her down the steps to the floor of the amphitheater. Slowly my smile faded. There were too many people in here, and the stage looked huge.

  “Your mother isn’t afraid to speak her mind,” Pierce said, and my shoulders eased as he took my hand and the ever-after seeped in. I knew it wouldn’t last, and I gripped his fingers, afraid to let go.

  “She’s like that,” I said, head down as I watched my step. People had noticed our entrance, and the conversations were shifting. More whispering, more bitter gossip.

  Pierce’s grip on mine tightened, and I looked up, feeling a warning in his touch. Vivian had come from the back, looking confident and unique in a flowing, princesslike robe of tie-dyed colors, all purple, blue, and green. Her hair was arranged off her neck, and she looked like an upscale San Francisco hippie, as far from my white-leather-clad sleekness as a bird was from a frog. Worry flashed through me. Robes flowing, she strode to the podium, bending to pull out an amulet. She looked good, rested and ready. I wished I was.

  “Test,” she said simply as she held the amulet, and when her voice rose with a pleasant volume over the babble, she dropped it into a pocket and went to talk to Oliver. The entire auditorium had the feeling of preparation and excitement, and I gave Vivian a stupid little hand wave when she looked up, following Oliver’s finger pointing to me. He was wearing an impressive suit, and again I felt nervous in my outfit. White? Thanks a hell of a lot, Al.

  Vivian straightened, breaking eye contact with me before I could get any sense of what she was thinking. Oliver was supposed to vote for me, but after this afternoon, I doubted that would happen despite the agreement we’d come to in an FIB interrogation room two thousand miles away. I was hoping I wouldn’t need my gentle four-word reminder that I could bring witch society down. We came from demons.

  Finally we made it to the ground floor and the small space before the stage. My mother and Ivy were waiting at the head of an empty row of seats. Actually, the three rows after that one were empty, too, no one wanting to get too close to us. Nerves wouldn’t let me sit, and we clustered together in the aisle. As Pierce and my mother made small talk, I scanned the rising rows for Trent.

  Ivy leaned in, smiling with her lips shut. “You look green. You want me to go up there with you and hold your hand?”

  “Can’t you be nice to me for once?” I said, and she laughed. “Trent isn’t going to show,” I added, wondering what my mother was telling Pierce. His eyes were wide, and my mother’s expression was intent.

  “Is that necessarily a bad thing?” Ivy asked, and I tried to decide if she was joking.

  “I’m worried about Jenks,” I said, and she nodded. “Has he called?” I asked for the umpteenth time, and she shook her head, eyes falling from mine.

  I thought of my phone, in my bag, wondering if I should turn it off. I didn’t want to miss Jenks’s call if it should come in. A flash of guilt hit me. It was too late now to call Bis, too.

  A stir at the door we had come in caught my attention, and I turned away when the man my mom had threatened came in, pointing our way. “Don’t look,” I told Ivy, thinking that they were going to haul her out, but my fear vanished in a wash of elation when the familiar clatter of pixy wings sparked through me.

  “Jenks!” I exclaimed, suddenly feeling ten feet tall as I saw the glint of pixy dust. I didn’t care if people were staring and whispering loudly. I waved like a fool, grinning when a bright sparkle at the top of the theater dropped to us.

  “Oh my God, Jenks!” I said, elated and feeling the size difference between us keenly as he came to a pixy-dust-laden halt in the center of our group. He was smiling, a long tear in his black sleeve and his hair matted, but he was okay. “How did it go? Are you all right? Where’s Trent?” I asked, wanting to give Jenks a hug but having to settle for extending my hand for him.

  Jenks nodded to everyone, zipping around Ivy to wreathe her in silver sparkles. “I’m good,” he said, wings moving well and clearly overflowing with energy. “You’ll never believe it, Rache,” he said, eyes sparkling with news. “Trent’s here. He’s in the bathroom with Lucy.”

  “Lucy?” I asked, wondering if Ellasbeth had a younger sister. “What did you do?”

  Jenks landed on my hand, then sprang into the air, unable to contain himself. “You’ll never guess!” he said, darting back and forth. “The guy is slicker than toad snot. Trent is—”

  “A daddy,” Ivy interrupted, her gaze fixed on the door we’d come in.

  I spun as Jenks yo-yoed up and down, shrilling so high and fast I couldn’t understand him. My eyes bugged out, and beside me, my mother swore. “No. Friggin’. Way,” I said.

  Trent was on the threshold in his usual thousand-dollar suit, rearranging his badge and surrounded by too many women. One was jiggling a fussing infant. A girl from the looks of the sweet little bonnet. Lucy?

  “No. Friggin’. Way!” I said again, touching gazes with Ivy before I looked back and saw Trent take the baby. My eyes widened. She was his?

  “Yes, way!” Jenks was saying, and Pierce sighed, dropping back a step. “I about crapped my pants when I found out. No wonder Trent wouldn’t spill. That’s his kid. His and Ellasbeth’s. That’s what he was doing, Rache! We were baby snatching! Like elves used to in the old days!”

  Trent had done the nasty with Ellasbeth? Ewwwwww.

  Pierce seemed bored by it, but my mother was melting into a puddle of anticipation, her hands almost outstretched, as Trent made his way to us.

  “It was some ancient elf quest to prove himself and become a man. He had to steal a baby and not get caught,” Jenks said, still too excited to land anywhere, and I couldn’t look away. No. Friggin’. Way. Trent had a kid?

  “He stole her!” Jenks said, finally landing on my shoulder. “Right out of her crib. Like in the old days when they would leave changelings, but Trent only left a crumpled bit of paper in the crib. Rache, he sang this weird little song, and she just woke up and loved him.”

  I had to admit that Trent seemed to know what he was doing as he patted the little girl to make her stop fussing. He looked up, his eyes meeting mine still holding a blissful happiness tempered with a severe protectiveness. “He traveled three thousand miles to steal a baby?”

  “His baby! Not just any brat,” Jenks said, wings fanning my neck. “His and Ellasbeth’s. You got fairy farts in your ears? She was pregnant when you broke up their wedding. Lucy is the first elf baby to be born perfect, even before Ceri’s. The first without the demon curse, and every baby born after her will be perfect. Because of you.”

  I licked my lips, and Pierce moved to make room for Trent. The next elf generation. Lucy was the beginning. That’s what Trent had meant. And it was because of me? No, it was because of Trent, Jenks, Ivy, and me. We’d done it together.

  The noise of the auditorium seemed to fade as Trent scuffed to a halt before us, his ears red as he met everyone’s eyes. “Trent?” I managed, and then my mother broke down.

  “Ohhh, let me hold her!” my mom exclaimed, hands reaching out.

  Immediately everyone relaxed. Trent’s attention fell from me, focused entirely on his little girl as my mother came close. “Ms. Morgan,” Trent said, his hands changing position as he carefully moved his…daughter? “She’s a temperamental little thing. She might not like you.”

  “Of course she’ll like me,” my mother huffed. People were watching, and on
stage, the last of the coven members had assumed their places. My mother took Lucy, and the little girl began to cry, green eyes spilling over as she refused to look at my mother, searching until she found Trent, then making a face as if she’d been betrayed.

  “Oh, dear,” my mother said, jiggling her carefully, knowing that it was a lost cause. “Such a beautiful thing you are. Don’t cry, sweetie. Your daddy is right there.”

  Jenks was laughing—not at my mother, but at my and Ivy’s shocked expressions. “You’re a dad?” I tried again, and Trent shrugged, his attention lingering on my dress.

  “It happens.”

  “Rachel, you take her,” my mother said, clearly uncomfortable. “She might like you.”

  “No. Mom, no!” I protested, but it was my mother we were talking about, and it was either take the baby or have her hit the floor. I had no choice, and as Trent stiffened, I found I was holding another person in my arms. I couldn’t look at her as her blanket fell away, scared almost as she cried, but I held her against me, and burn my toast if I didn’t jiggle a little on my feet. She was kind of soft and squishy, but she fit nicely against me. I gave another hop, and when I looked into her eyes, she quit crying.

  Trent’s hands dropped from where he had been going to snatch her away. Pale eyebrows up, he said, “She likes you,” as if he didn’t believe it.

  “Of course she likes Rache,” Jenks said belligerently, leaving me to hover before the baby and make her sneeze from his silver pixy dust. Cooing, Lucy flung her hand out—searching for Jenks, probably—but latching on to my finger instead.

  Shit.

  Her tiny hand gripped mine with a surprising warmth, and in a shocking wash of emotion, I felt everything I knew shift. The scent of cinnamon and baby powder hit me, and as my eyes widened, my heart melted, making room for her. As I gazed into Lucy’s green eyes, and seeing her pale hair and perfect face, it was as if something had flipped a switch in me. I’d held babies before. Hell, I’d babysat for my old friend at the I.S., but this small person holding my finger had looked to me for protection from the noise, the crowd, and the frightening sparkles of pixy dust. All of a sudden, I didn’t want to give her back.

  My gaze came up, fastening on my mother. Unshed tears made her eyes dark. She was gazing at Lucy with longing, remembering Robbie and me. When she glanced up, I gave her a rueful smile. Damn it, she’d given me Lucy for just this reason. It wasn’t an elf thing, it was just…life.

  “She likes you,” Trent said again, but he was reaching for her, jealous maybe.

  “Perhaps she knows you helped her survive,” Ivy said from the background.

  “Look at her ears, Rache,” Jenks said as he returned to my shoulder, and I moved away from Trent. “You gotta look at her ears.”

  Her ears? Pulling her back to me, I leaned closer, breathing in cinnamon as I peeked under her bonnet. Trent’s jaw was clenched, but he let me do it. Lucy just cooed, and I stared as Ivy leaned close to me to see as well.

  “You’ve got to be kidding,” I whispered, my attention darting up to Trent as he frowned. “They’re pointy.” Trent was annoyed, but I was almost laughing. “You guys have to dock your ears to fit in?” I said in a hushed voice.

  “Not anymore,” he answered, reaching to take her.

  Lucy gurgled as I felt her almost-not-there weight leave me, kicking in frustration until her father—oh my God, Trent had a baby—took her. My shoulders slumped, and I felt her loss. On the stage, they were making motions to start the meeting, and Pierce was trying to get my mother and Ivy to sit down. “Is she really yours?” I asked Trent as they took their seats in the second row while he rearranged Lucy’s blanket around her.

  He wouldn’t look at me. “In about six different ways,” he said, and remembering how I’d felt after holding her for just one minute, I knew what he meant.

  “Trent, why didn’t you tell me you were after your…child?”

  All around us, people were settling in, hushing themselves, getting ready for a show. But he was oblivious to them as he looked at me, a mixture of embarrassment and reluctance in him that I’d never seen before. “I don’t know,” he admitted, seeming more honest, more bewildered than he’d ever been before. “It sounded lame. Me? Going three thousand miles to steal a baby? I’m a product of the twenty-first century, not some elf with a title living in a castle with servants.”

  “Yeah, but it was your kid,” Jenks said, having finally parked it on my shoulder.

  Lucy was kicking at her blanket, and he tucked it back not even knowing he had done it. “She wasn’t mine until I saw her.” His gaze was unfocused as he remembered. “She’s…” He stopped, unable to put it into words as he looked at her. She was entirely her own person but needed him for everything.

  “She’s beautiful,” I said softly.

  Trent’s attention flicked to me, and his grip on her grew possessive. “I’d do anything for her. Risk anything. I never got it until now. I never understood true sacrifice.”

  Huh. Maybe Lucy was going to save us all.

  Jenks clattered his wings, going to distract her and make her squirm. “Just like any parent, Trent,” he said as he hovered over her, reminding me of who he was. “Think you can do anything for Rachel for the next hour? You owe her. I may have helped you get Lucy, but Rachel got you here alive to do it. Even with your help.”

  My chest tightened, and where I was came rushing back. Trent was nodding, and Vivian began tapping her amplifying amulet for attention. “Just about anything,” he said, smiling with half his face. He looked at me, and even that vanished. “Rachel, it’s going to get bad. You’re going to have to trust me. You’ve got to lose before you can win.”

  “Oh, that makes a lot of sense,” I said darkly. “You aren’t old enough for wise-old-man crap. Even with a three-month-old in your arms.”

  He leaned close as Jenks zipped off to talk to my mother. “I mean it,” he said, Lucy reaching up for my face. “Oliver is going to weasel out of his promise no matter what I say. He knows you’re not going to tell anyone that witches were born from demons. If you do, witch society will crumble in a century of witch hunts that will make Salem look like a puppet show.”

  “No,” I said, but he wasn’t listening.

  “You’re going to lose,” he said firmly. “And when you do, I’m telling you, don’t do anything stupid. Go with it. Go to Alcatraz. Go with Al. I don’t care, but just go with it. It’s not over when that bell rings.”

  Trent’s gaze went to the silver bell on the coven’s table, and fear slid through me. I heard what he was saying. Oliver was scum. Trent didn’t see me walking out of here. He had me lost and was planning a comeback. I looked at Ivy, and her eyes dilated at my fear.

  “Take your seats, please,” Vivian said loudly from the podium, her words bouncing through the auditorium and silencing 90 percent of the noise.

  Pierce was at my elbow, and he pulled me down the empty aisle of seats, putting us right in front of my mother and Ivy. Trent edged in next, and we all sat. On the stage, there were two empty chairs at the coven’s table, one for Vivian, one for Brooke. I could not lose. I couldn’t. I’d be in the ever-after, taking my sun in thieving snatches.

  Vivian gestured at the silver bell, and it chimed, making me jump. A wave of force had echoed out of it, having the feeling of a bubble going up. The auditorium was closed for the duration. No one in or out. It had begun.

  Twenty-one

  “ I said pipe down!” Vivian said crossly when the room reacted to the doors locking. Trent tried to quiet Lucy with an offered pinkie, and she protested, refusing it. Behind me, my mother piled her stuff on the empty seat next to her and settled in, completely unfazed. Pierce ran a nervous hand over his soft curls, taking his hat off and dropping his hand to finger his stolen badge.

  “You will shut up!” Vivian shouted, cheeks coloring when Oliver said something only those on the stage could hear. “As the junior member of the coven, it’s my responsibility to maint
ain order at these proceedings, and you will be silent or I’ll gag you myself!”

  My mother leaned forward, between Pierce and me. “She’s a bit of a hard-ass,” she said, and Jenks buzzed his wings.

  “You’ve no idea, Ms. Morgan,” he said. Then he sat on my shoulder, his wings tickling my neck. It was good to have him back.

  Vivian put her hands on her hips and waited, frowning. Slowly the witches grew silent as she used a sixth-grade-teacher stare on them. I put a hand on my stomach, feeling sick. Everyone I cared about was around me. Oliver had promised to clear my name if I publicly apologized for using black magic and never went to the press with the fact that witches were stunted demons. I had held up my end of the bargain, even when the coven had tried to off me, but Trent, playing peekaboo with Lucy, believed they’d back out of it, scared I’d go to the press with the ugly truth anyway. If Oliver called my bluff, I didn’t know if I could do it. Not only would it destroy our society, but it would upset the balance of everyone else’s. I’ll hurt him. I’ll friggin’ make Oliver sorry if he screws me over.

  I jumped when Pierce touched me, a slow trickle of broken ever-after turning into a rush that made me feel ill once he had my attention. “You need this,” he said, slipping me the security amulet.

  “Pierce, no,” I whispered, not taking my eyes off the stage as I tried to shove it back into his hands, but he only dropped it in my pocket. Neither one of us was touching it, but it was a ley-line charm, and I tried to dampen the flow to something that didn’t feel like tinfoil on teeth. My headache eased, and I was starting to wonder if I needed to be in touch with a ley line to feel good.

  “Thank you,” I whispered, and he sat in his chair, totally happy with himself.

  “It’s a trifle,” he said, and I touched his hand with my free one, completing the circuit and giving him a taste.

  “I mean, for being here with me,” I said, and he smiled.

  “I know.” From my other side, Trent sighed dramatically, and Pierce pulled away, turning his attention to the stage.