Chapter Twenty-five

Heart thudding, I reached back for my splat gun, bringing it forward and peering into the blackness of the tunnel. If I couldn't bring him down with the gun, then I'd consider the charms. Reaching for the line, I filled my chi with a bright, scintillating glow of power, letting it leak over my soul and spindling a wad of it in my head just in case. Satisfaction was almost as warm as the line in me, and again I wondered how I could ever have willingly cut myself off from this. It was like bathing in light.

I heard Eloy slide to a stop, and I peeked up through the opening I'd left in the grate. There was a faint glow from a cell phone being used as a flashlight - he was looking for the air shaft, running his hand along the ceiling. It was hard to see, but his face was still bruised from Winona's beating. Breath held, I watched him. Grinning, I took aim. This was going to be easy.

The gun clicked . . . and Eloy dropped and rolled, right out of my line of sight, his faint light extinguishing. The blue ball burst open against the far wall of the shaft, useless. Damn!

Jenks flew through the grate, his sword out. "I told you I get first hit," he said, and the ping of pixy steel rang followed by the hiss of propellant.

"You have got to be shitting me," Eloy said, and I poked my head out of the hole in the floor, fear for Jenks making me careless. "A bug?" His shadow tensed. "Morgan? Is that you?"

"Give it up, Eloy!" I shouted, shooting at his voice. The light was gone, and I heard him swear. Crouched in the shaft, I waited for a sound, not wanting to get sticky silk in my eyes. At point-blank range, it would glue them shut. I had only so many sleepy-time balls left, or I would have peppered the hallway. Jenks was probably down, staying silent to keep from being stepped on. I wanted to keep Eloy busy until he was up again.

"When this is done, I'm going to come for you," Eloy said, and I shot at his voice, hearing him scramble back with another half-heard oath. "I know where you live. I'm bringing you in."

"Everyone knows where I live," I said from inside the lower air shaft. "I've got a sign out front with my name on it, moss wipe!"

"I'm going to find you," he whispered, and I shivered at the hatred in his voice, his sureness. "I'm going to sever your spinal cord in your sleep. You're going to wake up with me bending over you, unable to move. And then I'm going to milk your blood for the next one hundred and sixty years like the animal you are. I'll use you to wipe your species from the earth."

His threats were not going to happen, but I shivered anyway.

He was too far down the corridor. I needed a better angle. Heart pounding, I quietly wedged myself out past the grate and rolled onto the floor. Flat on my stomach, I closed my eyes and whispered, "You're going to have a hard time with that from jail."

"I could do it from jail." His voice was introspective, casual. "I'd rather do it myself, though. The pleasure. You know."

"Rache!" Jenks shouted, and I rolled, invoking a circle as the shot echoed in the tunnel. The gold of my aura glowed in the dark. Smut crawled over it like a living patina, dimpled where the bullet had ricocheted off. Through the haze, I saw Eloy by the faint light of my circle. He was crouched with his gun pointed at me, a young man overflowing with fear, hate, and misplaced zeal. The smell of gunpowder hit me. Behind him, Jenks was white faced and struggling, stuck to the floor.

"Son of a bastard," I breathed, scared for Jenks. Arms out, I shifted the angle of my gun and pulled the trigger. I rolled as the pellet hit my circle and broke the amber wash. My heart pounded in the new darkness, but I heard only a disgusted grunt.

"Noli me tangere, bitch," Eloy said, and my teeth clenched. Don't touch me? Had I missed? "Anticharm gear. You think I'd do this without it? Your magic is useless."

"You know some Latin," I said, my eyes searching for the barest hint of a glow, a glint. Anticharm gear wouldn't stand up to repeated abuse. "I'm surprised they teach you that in the bunkers."

Eloy chuckled, and I shifted my aim higher. If I hit his face or hands, he'd go down for sure. "I didn't grow up in a camp," he said, and I adjusted my grip on my gun, beginning to sweat. "I'm from a very well-respected family. Most of us are. I went to the best schools, better than you. That's why you're going to fail. We're smarter than you. You can't help it."

His shoes scuffed, and I shot at the sound, rolling as his gun popped again. Little bits of concrete peppered me, and I clenched my teeth, not wanting to set a circle and light the tunnel again. Jenks was still down and vulnerable. Where the hell was everyone? Weren't they looking for Eloy? Fingers moving, I reached to turn the radio back on to call for help. There was nothing. It was dead, and I thought of the two men running the radio. Had they been beaters or receivers? Had they left Glenn now that Eloy was on the run, planning on acquiring him themselves? They weren't HAPA, were they? Damn it back to the Turn, it would explain a lot.

"We are everywhere, at every level," Eloy gloated, cementing the idea in my head.

"You know what they say. Book smart, street stupid," I said, one hand letting go of the gun, my fingers reaching inside my boot for the charm to paralyze someone. "How's your elven?"

"Jenks! Light him up!" I yelled, then put the butt of the pin between my teeth.

It was a huge risk, but Jenks dusted, and in the faint glow, I found Eloy's eyes. "Look at me, you bastard!" I said between my clenched teeth - then yanked the amulet to pull the pin.

I was still connected to the line, and I sucked in my breath as something alien reached through me, pulling the line like a wind-whipped ribbon over my synapses with the sound of wicked, chiming laughter. It coated me in fear, and I fixed on Eloy's eyes, hoping, praying, that Trent had done this right and I hadn't just given Jenks's location away.

Eloy blinked, his expression going slack. And then he slowly collapsed, falling facedown on the cold cement.

It worked! Adrenaline washed through me, and I waited, hardly breathing, my gun pointed at him, afraid to look away to see how Jenks was. Hot damn, it had worked, and he was down!

I took a tense step forward, intentionally scuffing my shoes. Eloy didn't move, slumped on the floor with his arm twisted at an awkward angle half under him. "Jenks?"

"I'm okay! He's down," he said in disgust, and I flicked my gaze to him then back to Eloy. "His aura went passive. God-blessed mother moss wipe of a pixy. Flew right into it. It's not sticky silk, Rache. It's worse. I'm stuck to the floor like a troll booger on the underside of a bridge."

Gun pointed at Eloy, I edged closer, bending to reach for a zip strip from my boot. "You need some help?"

"I need half a fairy farting brain!" he snarled. "No. You'll rip my wings off. I've almost got it. Zip-strip him before he wakes up, will you?"

He subsided into half-heard swearing as the glow from his fitfully moving wings lit the slumped shape of Eloy, his back rising and falling as he breathed. Trent's charm had worked.

In the distance, I could hear voices echoing in the dark. They could be thirty feet, or three hundred with the way sound traveled. "We're over here!" I shouted and, gun pointed, I wedged a foot under Eloy to roll him over.

"Rache! No!" Jenks shouted, still stuck to the floor.

His eyes were open. The spell had played itself out that fast.

"Crap!" I exclaimed, pulling the trigger, but he was faster, and his foot swung out, connecting with my ankle. I fell, my foot going numb. My arms flailed, and my head hit the side of the cement tube as he shoved me.

Stars were born and died underground, and I felt myself falling, my side scraping on the rough walls of the tunnel. Idiot! I should have double-tapped him!

"You are one tough bitch," Eloy was saying as he stood over me, and I groaned when he kicked my middle, my air huffing out as I clenched in pain. "Anyone else I'd kill right now, but I'll be back for you in about a week. Count on it." Crouching, he pulled my head up by my hair. "A lifetime of rest and relaxation wait for you, madam cow. Your blood is going to wipe the scourge from the world and make it clean again."

"You bastard . . ." I gasped, still clenched over my middle. "This is our world, too."

"And the monkeys and the donkeys, but we don't let them live in penthouse suites." He dropped my head, and my face hit the cement. My head throbbed, and my ankle felt like it was on fire as he yanked my arms behind my back and zip-stripped me with my own zip strip. The line energy I had stored washed out of me and my connection to it died. I was on my own.

"Cute," he said as he picked up my splat gun. I clenched my eyes shut, expecting him to shoot me, but they flashed open when I heard him run for the air shaft instead. Wiggling, I rolled over, finally getting a good breath of air. Voices echoed in my head, real or imagined, I couldn't tell.

"You chickenshit fairy flop!" Jenks shouted, his wings going like mad as he tried to unstick himself from the floor, finally taking his boot off and darting almost to the ceiling before dropping back down and trying to free his sword. "You're the one who's going to get the lobotomy. I'll find you. I swear I'll find you!"

By the light of Jenks's dust, I blearily watched Eloy standing under the upper air shaft, shooting up into it with that can of spray. It looked like silly string, spreading out to make a thick net falling out of the ceiling. Tucking the can in his back pocket, he quickly gathered the strands into a thicker rope. The smell of propellant drifted to me, and I hoped I wouldn't sneeze. My head hurt, and I was afraid I was going to vomit.

My fingers pushed against the cold floor and, panting, I levered my upper body up. "Eloy!" I croaked, but he didn't even look as he reached over his head and started climbing. His feet swung wildly until finding the walls, and he was gone, my splat gun shoved at the small of his back.

"This is exactly why I don't like weapons," I whispered, licking my lip to find it swollen. "They can always be used against you." Pissed, I sat, my back to the wall, cursing myself as I felt my ribs, and Eloy's noise diminished.

"Rache. You okay?"

"Yes." I went to rise, but my ankle gave way and I fell back, my breath hissing out. "No."

"Maybe we're getting too old for this," he said, and I leaned forward so he could reach the zip strip.

"Just break it, will you?" There was a thump from the tunnel, and I grimaced.

"So call Glenn already," he said, and I felt a light pressure on my wrists as he wedged his sword into the fastening clamp. "No shame in asking for help."

"Radio is dead," I said, and Jenks swore.

"Those mother moss wipes with the fancy equipment are not working for the FIB," he said, then swore again, blaming Tink, the sun, and the stars all in one long breath.

My hands were suddenly free, and I pulled my arms to my front. I reached for a line, relishing the scintillating energy as it ran like a chattering stream through my neural network, washing away my slight headache. "Oh, that feels good. Thanks, Jenks."

"I broke my Tink-blasted sword!" he said in disgust, and I realized why the elaborate swearing as he came around front. "Look at it! Snapped it clean through."

"I think I sprained my ankle," I said, nauseated as I put a hand to the wall and slowly stood. "He's got my gun, too."

Jenks hovered before me, a green tint to his dust as he looked at his best garden sword, the pixy steel snapped at the hilt. I eased my weight to my injured ankle, and hissed, jerking it up again. "You want to call it?" Jenks said, and I glanced at the mouth of the tunnel.

The memory surfaced of Winona fighting Gerald as he stripped her, and Chris dancing in delight as the curse made with my blood twisted her into a monstrosity. Eloy's slurs and misplaced superiority made my eyes crinkle in renewed anger. My pulse hammered. I wanted him. I wanted him bad.

"Hell no," I said, and Jenks threw his broken sword at the wall. It made a sliding ting as it hit and fell, and I felt bad for him even as he darted to the mouth of the upward-facing tunnel, more determined yet. Hobbling, I managed the few steps to the shaft and looked up into the dark. The end of Eloy's makeshift rope dangled, looking too thin to support my weight. "He climbed that?" I said, and Jenks went up and down like an impatient yo-yo.

"It's only five feet. Then it goes at an angle."

Five feet. Straight up. My upper-body strength wasn't that bad, and I reached for the makeshift rope. The sticky lacework clung to me, and I started to feel a little better. The slimy rat had kicked me when I was down. Took my gun. Tied me up with my own zip strip. Made Jenks break his sword. It was enough to make me wish that Trent had given me a charm to turn people inside out.

I could hear thumps from the shaft, and knowing no one - not even the mysterious alpha or beta teams - would be guarding the other end of the air shaft, I tensed my arms and started up. "Move it, witch!" Jenks shouted, and I swung my body weight, trying to get my good leg up to help support my mass.

Jenks was right, and I found the other end of the weird rope stuck to the wall of the shaft where it made a sixty-degree angle and sloped upward. My ankle wasn't hurting as badly, and panting, I wiggled my way up, hitting my shoulder on the wall as I struggled.

"Good God, Rache," Jenks swore, hovering an inch before my nose as I lay in the shaft and tried to catch my breath. "Think you can make any more noise?"

"He knows I'm coming," I wheezed. "Get out of my way," I added as I got my arms in front of me and started dragging myself forward on the flats of them. I didn't know what I was going to do without my gun, but I drank in the line as I went, filling my chi again with the line tasting of earth and ice-rimmed moss. Jenks hovered for a moment, then darted ahead. Slowly the shaft grew dark, but it didn't matter. There was only one way to go.

The shaft was only two feet tall, and about as wide, made of dark metal, and claustrophobic. The edges where it was soldered together were thick, looking like someone had been in a hurry as I dragged myself over them. If this was a Turn-instigated shelter, then it had probably been constructed in a matter of months. The shaft could come out anywhere, but I bet Eloy had a car waiting already. He was that kind of planner. Who had given him the gun when he escaped from Glenn? Who had cut his zip strip?

A sudden commotion ahead of me brought my head up, and I waited a breathless moment as I heard Eloy shouting, thumps, and Jenks's laughter. I gathered myself to surge forward, and the pixy was back, grinning. "What did you do?" I said, and he landed before me, dust spilling from him bright enough to read by.

"I got your gun back," he said. "He had it stuck in his waistband in the back, and he couldn't do anything when I shoved it out and dragged it off him. Dumb place to put it, if you ask me. It's up about twenty feet, waiting for you. He might scoot backward to get it, but I doubt it. He knows you're coming. He still has his pistol."

And maybe four bullets. "Thanks," I wheezed, feeling renewed hope as I resumed inching forward, dragging my lower body along. My ankle throbbed, and I ignored it. I wanted my gun. The shaft was rising at a steeper angle, and I could smell cold cement. Slowly the sounds of Eloy's passage faded, and I pushed myself into moving faster. The shadow of my gun slowly appeared, and I grabbed it, my knuckles scraping as I crawled forward with it in my hand.

Frustrated by my pace, Jenks walked before me to light his way. There was a crash from somewhere ahead, and I froze, feeling the weight of the earth press on me. "Hold on a sec," Jenks said, and he darted ahead again.

The tunnel grew dark. My ankle still throbbed, but I pushed on, arms aching. I heard Jenks before I saw him, an excited red to his dust as he slid to a stop, inches before my nose. "He's out!" he said, and I blew the hair from my eyes. "That was a grate popping off. It opens up into a sewer line or something. You're almost there. Hurry your little witch ass up!"

"Swell," I breathed, thinking someone had made a mistake. You don't have an air shaft empty into a sewer, even if there was negative airflow. "You think you could slow him down?" I panted as I tried to move faster.

He gave me a thumbs-up and darted ahead. The air suddenly smelled a lot fresher, and I thought I saw a patch of lighter darkness ahead. I could hear cars, and I wondered how far I'd crawled. A city block? "I'm going to smack you so hard you won't wake up until next week," I whispered as I pushed myself the last few feet. "Making me crawl through a pipe. God!"

Heart pounding, I managed the final span, carefully poking my head out past the broken grate hanging from one twisted chunk of metal. I was about five feet above the floor of what looked like a subway tunnel, lit by a thin strip of streetlight coming in through a grate, almost even with me on the other side of the wide cement tube. Eloy was nowhere to be seen.

"Holy crap," I whispered, looking up at the rumbling sound of traffic overhead. We were under Central Parkway. This wasn't a sewer line, but the old subway system, or what was left of it. It figured they'd use it for a bioshelter during the Turn.

I looked down at the five-foot drop. I had to take it headfirst, but if Eloy could do it, so could I, and hearing Eloy's sudden oath and Jenks's laugh, I slowly wiggled into the lighter darkness, reaching for the ground. My hips started to slide out, and I tossed my gun to the cement an instant before I fell.

The ground rushed up, and I stifled a gasp, palms and arms taking most of the impact. My shoulder hit, and I rolled, tucking my head so I wouldn't crack my nose open. The stink of wet cement hit me as I sucked in my breath and tried not to cry out. Everything hurt, and holding my elbow, I tossed my hair from my eyes and looked for my gun.

"Hurry!" Jenks said, looking frazzled as he hovered before me. "If he gets out onto Central Ave., he's gone!"

I reached for my gun. Jaw clenched, I staggered to my feet, trying not to put too much weight on my foot. At least I could stand now. My boots were tight enough to give some support, but it still hurt like hell.

Jenks flew beside me, braver than I was for doing the same thing with no sword to back up his words. The street noise grew louder, the sunlight leaking through dimmer. The tunnel ended in a wide stairway, and the quick flash of sunlight followed by a thump of metal on metal made me lurch forward.

"Wait!" Jenks whispered, almost in my ear, and I hesitated. That slow, rasping noise started again. Eloy was still down here, and I put my back to the wall beside the stairway, trying to catch my breath and regroup. He had a pistol. Trent's charms didn't last very long and could be circumvented by simply avoiding eye contact when they were invoked. Frowning, I pulled my remaining zip strip from my boot and left it in the dirt. I'd have to bludgeon Eloy into unconsciousness and sit on him until Jenks could get help.

I smiled, liking the idea.

Heart pounding, I peeked around the wall and saw Eloy at the top of the stairway. The man had his back hunched as he stood under a door set flush with the ground, like a root cellar, pushing it up with his back to make a crack big enough to get his hand through, but little else. It was hard to see with only the dim sunlight leaking in, but it looked like he was trying to saw through a chain. Where in hell had he gotten the saw?

I ducked back and met Jenks's eyes. He grinned at me, and I grinned back. "I take the high ground, you take the low," he said, and I shook my head.

"You're compromised without your sword," I whispered, and he scowled. "I need help. The radio is off. We're fighting HAPA. Go get Glenn. Tell him where we are. I'll keep Eloy busy until you get back."

"I'm not going to leave you. You're compromised, too, you stupid-ass witch."

God, I loved hearing him call me that. "Get Glenn!" I insisted, awkwardly shifting my weight. "Even with my gun, I can't bring him down by myself. As you say, I'm compromised."

Jenks's face tightened, but he nodded. "Can you just stay alive for the next five minutes?" he said, and lifted up and away, his wings a bright flash as he found the sunbeam and followed it out.

My pulse hammered. Moving slowly, I tightened the grip on the butt of my weapon and I came around the wall, gun pointed.

"Shit!" Eloy exclaimed as my bad foot scuffed and he spun. The heavy metal door slammed down again, sealing us in a room with only a thin, dusty thread of sunlight. Jaw clenched, I fired, aiming for his smug face.

Eloy dove off the steps and into the shadows. His metal saw clattered, abandoned, and my shot broke harmlessly on the stairs. Frowning, I realigned my sights. "Give it up!" I shouted, my voice echoing in the shadows. "The FIB knows where we are!"

The pop of his pistol going off shocked through me. Jumping, I dove for cover. My ankle gave way, and I fell, my splat gun skittering away from me even as I found a broken pillar to hide behind and flashed a protection bubble into place. Damn it! I'd lost my gun, and my head pounded with the remnants of the sudden flow of energy I'd used to make an undrawn circle strong enough to deflect a bullet. Three hearts pounded, one in my ankle, one in my head, one in my chest. But I'd gotten it up in time, and I was safe.

Bubble holding, I peeked up over the broken rubble and saw my gun in a spot of sun just to my left. If my ankle wasn't throbbing, I might chance making a run for it, but he had three bullets left, and I was sure my gun was in Eloy's view. I could hide in a bubble until help arrived, but if I did that, he could simply walk away. Suddenly I realized how deep in the crapper I was, and I dropped my inner circle to set a wider one, one that encompassed both of us and would keep him from reaching the door.

"Maybe I should have shot you," Eloy said as he came out from behind his pillar, satisfaction oozing from him, his gun pointed at me. "Where's your bug?"

"He's a pixy, dumbass. Get it right." I got to my feet, agony stabbing up through me. Damn it, I had lost my stealth as well as my gun. "I'm not letting you leave," I mocked, hands on my hips as I tried not to look at my gun, glinting in the sun. "I can hold that bubble all day. You're stuck until the I.S. gets here. If you jump a line, you'll end up in a cell."

Eloy smiled as he looked at my gun, then came forward a few steps. "I wanted you alive," he said, his voice soft, echoing in the hard space. "Which is why I only strapped you before, but I need to get out of here more, and Kalamack's records say there's another one of you, a male. What was he trying to do, rebuild the species that killed his own?"

My satisfied expression faltered. I glanced at my gun, wanting it.

Eloy took a few steps closer, his gun pointed down. "I'm all for conservation, but when I see a snake, I kill it. I'm just going to shoot you. A demon can't hold a circle if she's dead."

Crap on toast, he didn't want me alive anymore. Weapon held casually, he glanced behind himself and saw my bubble glowing between him and the door. "I'm curious," he said lightly as he brought his pistol up. "Are you faster than my bullet?"

With no warning, he shot at me again. Gasping, I flinched, dropping the large circle and slamming a new one into existence between us. The bullet hit with a thump of sound that echoed through me, followed by a tiny ping as it sank into the ceiling. Dust trickled down. I could hear cars overhead, but no pixy wings. Damn it, Jenks, where are you?

Seeing me behind my circle, Eloy started backing to the door.

Panicked, I flashed a new barrier up between him and the door, stopping him in his tracks. He was still farther from the door than before, closer to me, two bullets in his gun.

Eloy put his weight on one foot and looked at the chamber of his pistol. "We have a problem, you and me. Drop your circle."

My lip curled. "Right." I squinted at him, listening for the sound of pixy wings but only hearing the shush of traffic.

In a sudden show of anger, Eloy slammed his foot against the inside of my circle in a back kick and found it solid. Then his flush vanished, replaced with a smile that chilled me. Eyes darting, he took several steps closer. My breath came fast as he pulled his gun up, squinting.

"How about . . . now?" he said, pulling the trigger.

I sucked in my air. The line was already running through me, and I wavered on my feet as I forced it into a new circle, sweating with the effort. My head was humming, and my foot felt like it was on fire. The bullet thunked into my barrier and went zinging into the dark. One. He had one bullet left.

The man nodded, as if congratulating me. "Not bad, not bad," he said, and I dropped my circle, enticing him nearer. If I could touch him, I could drop him with a blast of ever-after. The thing was, he probably knew it and wouldn't get that close - unless I made it irresistible.

My pulse pounded as he edged forward, tense and eager. The sheen of sweat glistened on his brow, red where Jenks had pixed him, black and blue where Winona's feet had pounded him. His blue eyes glinted as he stepped in and out of the sun leaking through the pavement grates. Lips a hard line, he pulled his gun up, smiling, showing his teeth. The gun was FIB issue, and I felt myself pale. No one was coming, and as I remembered the bells that didn't ring in San Francisco, I reached deep into myself and found a sliver of courage. I had survived then. I would survive now.

"Feeling lucky?" I said, and he inched closer, his arms stiff and his aim unwavering. "Well, do you?" I mocked, and his finger moved.

The gun sounded like a cannon as it fired. Energy pulled through me, leaving me gasping as I fell to one knee. I felt the bullet hit my bubble and twang off. I lunged forward for my spell pistol as cement cracked under the bullet. My circle fell as I hit it, and my eyes closed at the sudden pain as I found the cement floor, front first. My hands scrabbled, reached, and found the butt of my splat gun. Elated, I turned, still on the ground, and brought my gun up.

Eloy was there, and I cried out when his foot slammed into my raised hands, knocking the pistol free and probably breaking a finger.

"You son of a bitch!" I shouted, trying to sit up with my hands clenched to my chest. Trent's ring burned on my finger, and I panted, feeling the pain where Eloy's foot had jammed it into my skin, cutting me.

"Some demon," Eloy said, swooping down to pick up my splat gun. "You're going to be downed by your own spells. Pathetic."

"It wouldn't be the first time," I said, reeling from the pain in my hand. What in hell kind of demon was I? But then I stared at the ring, glinting with my own blood, and had a sudden idea. It would jump me to Trent, but with that net sink in place . . . it would jump me - and anyone I was touching - into a jail cell.

Hope pulled my head up, and Eloy stared at my grim smile as I clutched my bruised hand and spun the ring on my finger to prime it. Slowly Eloy's own smile failed as he realized I wasn't giving up.

He began to raise my gun.

Screaming, I lunged at his knees. He cried out in surprise, and we went down together, me on top.

The world spun as he shoved me off, and I took the foot he was swinging at me right in the ribs. Grabbing it, I tapped a line, thought of Trent, and shouted, "Ta na shay!"

"Let go!" he shouted, kicking until my fingers gave way and he danced back, shaking in anger. "Don't you ever touch me again, you putrid animal!" he shouted, and I curled into a ball as he drew his foot back and kicked me, lifting me from the concrete. Agony thumped into my middle, and I cowered, holding my bruised arms over my head. I didn't understand. The charm was supposed to jump me to Trent! It hadn't worked! I had spun the ring, I had said the words, and I had thought of Trent - seeing him in my mind not as the businessman he showed the world, but as he had been in the woods, a shadow crouched on a tree, wild and ephemeral. Maybe he was the businessman after all . . .

Gasping for air, I looked up, my lank hair falling into my eyes. Eloy stood before me in a patch of sun, my gun in his hand. "Was that supposed to have done something?" he shouted.

My lips parted as my eyes went to the taut form standing behind him. Trent?

"Something did," Trent said, and Eloy spun.

Sweet and golden as honey, Trent pulled back and rabbit-punched the man square in the jaw. Eloy's head snapped back, and he dropped like a stone. I stared as his body hit the ground, the displaced air shifting my hair from my eyes for a second. Trent is here? The charm had worked - sort of.

"Ow, ow, ow!" Trent whispered, hunched over his hand, his expensive suit and perfect hair looking wrong against the dull concrete walls. "Is it supposed to hurt that much, or did I do it wrong?"

Still clenched over my bruised ribs, I managed to sit up. "That's why I always use my foot. I thought I was supposed to go to you!"

Sidestepping Eloy, Trent picked his way to me, his nose wrinkled as he glanced up at the ceiling and the obvious street noise. "You were trying to bring him to me?" he said, incredulous, and I shook my head as he extended his hand to help me stand. He had a ring, twin to my own. "I was in a meeting. Oh my God. I was in a meeting. I vanished right in front of them." He slapped his pants pockets. "I don't have my phone. My wallet."

"Welcome to the club," I said, then groaned as I got to my feet, waving off his help since my hands were swollen and bruised. "No, I wasn't trying to bring him to you. The I.S. has a net sink up," I said as I bent over my knees and tried to stand up straight. I think I had a bruised rib - I couldn't even breathe right. "I was going to jump us to you and land in a cell. I didn't expect you to show up." Still hunched over, I tilted my head and found his eyes. "Thank you."

His lips twitched. "You're welcome."

I looked at Eloy, resisting the urge to kick him, but only just. "I think you saved my life again. They know about Lee. You need to warn him. Eloy was going to come back for me."

"I will." Trent met my eyes as I tried to straighten up, making it only halfway. His gaze held pity, and I looked away, unable to stomach it. "He beat you?" he said, his voice holding unexpected anger.

Like I'd do this to myself? "I'm fine. It's part of the job," I whispered, still unable to breathe right. My fingers searched my ribs, and I winced.

The smell of clean laundry grew stronger, and I went to shove his hands off me as he tried to help me, but he was determined and my hands hurt. My jaw clenched, and when I had to sniff back a tear, I got mad. Damn it, I was not going to cry! "I said I'm fine!" I exclaimed, and he fell back at the sound of pixy wings.

"Jenks, what took you so long!" I said, then winced when my chest ached. Yep, at the very least they were bruised.

"Oh, for sweet mother-loving Tink!" he exclaimed in disgust. "I leave for five minutes, and you ask Trent to help you? Damn, girl, why didn't you just ask me to leave if you wanted some alone time to beat up the bad guy? Ah, his aura is brightening, by the way."

The grit ground under Trent's thousand-dollar shoes as he crouched at Eloy's head, lifted it up by his hair, and slammed it back down. Eloy groaned, his entire body becoming slack.

"Yeah, that did it." Jenks tried to land on my shoulder until I waved him away.

"Not bad, Trent. Not bad," I said as I began limping to the stairway. I could hear people, blessed people, coming to help me. "Hey! We're down here!" I shouted, then almost passed out when I began to cough.

"I'm okay. I'm okay!" I said, thankful there was no blood as Trent's arm went around me, holding my ribs so I wouldn't fall apart.

With a clatter and a boom of sound, the twin metal doors at the top of the stairway were flung back. The late-afternoon sunlight poured in, blinding me. "It's us! We're good!" I tried to shout, but Trent had swung me up in his arms and the clean smell of his silk suit poured over me. I couldn't see through my squint, but I heard men shouting and feet stomping down the stairs.

"He's over there," Trent said, then, "No, I've got her. Is there an ambulance on-site? She's banged up pretty bad. I don't know. Jenks?"

"How the hell should I know what happened?" the pixy said, and I shut my eyes against his sparkles; they were giving me a migraine. "I was out looking for the FIB!"

"I'm okay," I insisted, squinting. "I just need a pain amulet. Does anyone have a pain amulet?" Ivy had a pain amulet. Ivy was somewhere else.

"I'll get you to an ambulance," Trent said softly, the obvious cost of his clothes granting him passage to the surface as he went up the stairs against a tide of uniformed people flowing underground.

"Rachel?" came Glenn's voice as our heads broke the surface and the wind blew my tangled hair into Trent's face. "Jenks said . . . My God! What did he do to you?"

"I'm fine," I said, feeling dizzy as Trent stopped and the two tall black men peering at me coalesced into one. "We played chicken with his bullets, and I won. You mind getting that light out of my eyes? I can't see crap."

Glenn and Trent exchanged uneasy glances, and I realized it wasn't a light in my face, but the sun. "Close your eyes, Rachel," Trent said, and I did, a faint feeling of fear sliding to the back of my head and making me shut my mouth, too. Some of those blows had been to my head.

"Is she okay?" Glenn whispered. "How did you get down there, Mr. Kalamack?"

"She tried to jump out and jumped me in instead," he said simply. "She just needs some shade. I've got her okay. Can you get those reporters out of here?"

"Lord have mercy, they found us already," Glenn said, and I cracked an eye, almost smiling at the phrase and the hint of his southern background showing. "Ah, the ambulances are over there. You got her?"

"Yeah, we got her," Jenks said, and I winced as his dust hit my face.

"No ambulance," I whispered. "Trent, no. I want to see Eloy put in a car and leave. If you put me in an ambulance, they'll take me to a hospital. Promise me."

"No ambulance," he said, and I relaxed - until I realized I was still in his arms as he marched through the stopped traffic to a bus bench and set me down. His arms slid from me, and I shivered in the heat of the afternoon.

Slowly, bleary and blinded by the sun, I started to notice things. Traffic was stopped both ways, and Trent slowly sat down beside me, propping me upright without appearing to. Jenks was between us on the back of the bench, dusting in worry. FIB guys were everywhere, their successful mood making it feel like the Festival of Honking Horns. I could see the opening into the tunnels and the official vehicles arriving on the scene. Numb, I sat and shallowly breathed the good Cincy air, the late afternoon thick with the scents of a million people. The delicate scent of cinnamon and wine laced with green sherbet seemed to grow stronger.

"Ah, Trent? I think she needs an ambulance," Jenks said suddenly, and I sighed, my eyes closing.

"She's fine," Trent muttered, propping me back up. "Can you point out any of those men you saw earlier? The ones that weren't FIB or I.S.?"

Jenks's wings clattered, and I touched my cheek, warm where Eloy had smacked me. "Ow," I murmured, and Jenks rose up, his dust falling on me a worried black.

"I'm going to find Ivy." Jenks darted off.

Trent shifted uneasily, squinting even though we were in the shade. The wind moved his fair hair fitfully, and I started to reach for it, to brush it out of his eyes, but he beat me to it. My chest hurt, but I smiled, wondering if he missed his pointy little ears. They would hold his hair back better than what he had now.

"Rachel, I don't see anyone here not FIB or I.S.," he said, oblivious to the fact that I was slowly starting to slide into shock, the pain from my ribs making it hard to breathe. "How confident are you in your assessment?"

"That's because the guys with the radios bugged out when Eloy got free," I said as I flipped the useless radio earbud hanging down my front, and he reached for it, his gaze sharp on its construction. "You want it?" I said, and he nodded, reaching back for the battery pack as I dropped the bud down my shirt and he pulled it through, scraping my skin. "Alpha and beta teams are meeting up at the bird nest," I said, almost slurring. "Beaters and receivers. Personally, I would think they were HAPA's extraction team. If HAPA had any money, that is." I pulled my head up. "Look, Glenn isn't having a very good day, either."

The unlucky man had clearly been hijacked by Dr. Cordova in his quest to dissuade the newspeople. She looked pissed as she chewed him out in front of an FIB van, her arms pointing wildly. We had recaptured Eloy, so I don't know what her problem was. The sound of Ivy's footsteps drew my attention, and Jenks flew in to make nervous circles around me.

"What are you doing?" she hissed at Trent as she reached for me. "Look at her. She's going into shock. And you have her sitting on a bench? What are you doing here anyway?"

"He's saving my ass," I said, smiling up at her until my face hurt. "Hi, Ivy," I added, then hissed in pain when she tried to slide her shoulder under my arm and lift me. "Ow! Ow!" I cried out, and Jenks let a burst of yellow dust slip from him.

"Watch it!" he shouted, but Ivy had jumped back, her eyes going black as she pulled her hands from me.

Trent had gotten to his feet, and as I listed sideways, he propped me back up with a single, obvious finger as I tried to breathe, my ribs hurting. "Her ankle is broken," Trent said as he held my shoulder, and Ivy's eyes went even wider. "Her ribs are bruised, and her hand has suffered major damage. She'll be fine, but - "

"She needs an ambulance!" Ivy hissed, dropping her pain amulet around my neck and carefully scooping me up. My shoulders slumped at the quick relief. It didn't get rid of everything, but it at least took the edge off.

"She didn't want one!" Trent said loudly.

"When does Rachel ever know what she wants?" Ivy said, her pace jarring as she walked away with me. I looked back, giving him a painful bunny-eared kiss-kiss as Ivy toted me away. The last I saw of him, he was standing beside that bench looking disgusted, his suit askew and the radio in his hand, probably wondering how he was going to get home. I almost felt sorry for him. Almost.

"Thanks for watching her, cupcake," Ivy said dryly to Jenks, and he clattered his wings aggressively.

"Hey! I got you as soon as I could!" Jenks exclaimed as he flew alongside. "You were the ones who let him get away."

"No ambulance," I protested as she carried me, wincing when she took the curb hard. "I want to see Eloy get in a van, and then go home. My gun is still down there, too. And my bag."

"You can get your gun later," she said, glancing over her shoulder. "I've already got your bag in one of the FIB cruisers. Do you think you could work with these guys just once without finishing a run needing stitches?"

Jenks laughed, and Ivy started in with unusually cheerful chatter as she led me to the waiting ambulance, her topics ranging from the celebration pizza party Glenn had invited us to, all the way to Dr. Cordova's unique vocabulary that she'd shared with everyone when Eloy had gotten away. I let her words wash over me, soaking them in and thinking they were better than a bubble bath. She'd been worried on finding the shaft empty except for my shoulder bag, and I couldn't help but feel loved.

The ambulance guys were great, patching me up and making me feel less like a battered woman and more like a battle-weary warrior. They even let me keep the door open as they gave me a shot for infection and wrapped my ribs - fortunately not broken, and my ankle - which was. I wanted to watch and make sure the van that Jenks told me Eloy was in left with no incidents. I wasn't the only one.

Dr. Cordova stood by her car and watched, too, getting in and slamming her door before she drove off in the opposite direction.

We had gotten him, but I felt empty. It wasn't the victory I had wanted.

It looked like it wasn't the victory Dr. Cordova had wanted, either.