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Page 13
Chapter Thirteen
If it wasn't for the lack of an ocean, I would have believed I was in Florida, sitting at a tourist-trap, beach-themed restaurant whose target audience was college kids on spring break. The floor was of gray dock planks. The stairs had stiff rope railings. Fishing nets that had never seen the water were strung under the high ceiling. It was busy, and Trent's hundred bucks had bought us a booth in front of the stage, bypassing the forty-minute wait. Maybe money couldn't buy happiness, but it could get you a table that looked like the back end of a deep-sea fishing vessel.
Tired and disillusioned, I looked over the booth. It even had fake fishing poles out the back between us and the stage where a scruffy Were was singing about a last shaker of salt. No, his lost shaker of salt, according to the paper place mat. It must bother Jimmy Buffett that no one could understand his slurred lyrics even if he had them painted on the thick support beams, too. Yep, we were in Margaritaville, and it was steaming Trent's shrimp that we were still in Vegas.
Uptight, I ate my last piece of shrimp cocktail and took a sip of soda, eying the beautiful servers moving around the tables. Every last one of them was a living vampire, and I thought it odd that vampires and the beach seemed to mix so well.
Still hungry, I ran my finger through the shrimp sauce and licked it off. I was on the outside of the semicircle with my back to the kitchen. Ye olde demon killer was to my left, then Trent, Vivian, and Ivy on the other end. Jenks was on the candle centerpiece, almost asleep despite the noise. My phone said it was seven thirty, but it felt like ten thirty, naptime for pixies and elves on East Coast time. Jenks looked better now that we'd quit moving. I was feeling better now that I'd had a shower and was in a fresh pair of jeans and a black camisole. I hadn't yet talked to Trent about his new friend, Ku'Sox; I was still trying to wrap my mind around Pierce. He was a black witch. There was no denying it. Maybe instead of trying to figure out if it was wrong to like him or not, I should do the smart thing and...forget about him.
Grimacing, I turned my phone to vibrate and tucked it in a back pocket. Jenks had talked to his kids earlier, and I'd fielded another chat with Bis. Apparently he'd woken up this afternoon for a few minutes and wanted to talk to his folks about having seen the sun. They were at the basilica, a good five minutes' flight away, and he didn't want to leave the pixies alone unless we knew about it. He was a good kid. I was surprised, though. Most gargoyles couldn't stay awake during the day until they were much older.
"Hey, Ivy," I said, leaning across the table. "How come everyone working in here is a vampire? Some kind of union thing?"
Vivian looked up from her corn chips, clearly eager to answer, but Ivy was quicker. I'd seen her watching some of the prettier ones with more than a passing interest. "They're working off their debts," she said as she sipped her soda, looking as sexy as a vodka commercial.
I glanced at our server flirting with a table of four businessmen, then the vampire stud Ivy had been eying since we walked in. "Really?"
"Really," Vivian said when Ivy air-kissed her chosen one. "The head vampire in Vegas has a policy of free movement on his turf. Otherwise there might be a drop in revenue from the gambling. No one leaves with an outstanding debt. Dead or alive."
Trent was nodding as if he'd known, but I'd never heard of an undead vampire having control of another vampire's family member, even temporarily. I turned to Ivy to see her blushing a faint, eager red. "That's why we're stopping in Vegas," I guessed, and she nodded, eyes on the table as Jenks snorted himself awake with a burst of yellow dust.
"Fewer issues to deal with when I-" She stopped, eyes on the vampire she'd culled from the herd. He was pretty enough, I guess. "You think a human is bad at not knowing when to quit at the gambling table?" she said, chewing the toothpick the cherry had come on. "Try being a vampire, bored and seeing an eternity to find the money you might lose tonight." She licked her lips for someone else's benefit, and I stifled a shiver. My eyes flicked to Trent and Pierce. Okay, they were watching her flirt, too, both of them weirdly intent and detached.
Pierce was not happy to be here, which I thought rude since his other option was Al's box in the ever-after. He'd showered as well, so he smelled like hotel shampoo instead of burnt amber. Frowning, he watched everyone from under his funny hat-it had shown up during his shower-gulping his bubbly soda and wiping his eyes when he drank it too fast. Tumbling his clothes in the hotel drier had taken care of most of the stink on them, and he was back in his tidy slacks, casual shirt, and a vest that was probably from his 1800s closet but looked new. He was still wearing that silver amulet. I had no idea what it was, but I thought it telling that Pierce hadn't taken it off, even when he'd been in the shower.
Trent wasn't good company, either, seeing that our planned pit stop had turned into a four-hour break at a restaurant he hadn't picked out. We all had to get out of the car for a while, and I still wanted to talk to Trent about Ku'Sox-to find out if he knew how bad Ku'Sox was before he let him out or after.
Ivy shifted, her motions screaming sex as she smiled up at our waitress when she came back with another soda for Pierce.
"Do you know what you want?" she said as she set it down, voice raised over the music.
"I'll have the pasta," I said, pointing to it on the menu.
"Same," Pierce said, and I wondered if he could read anything other than Latin. He'd been born in the early 1800s, and it was possible he couldn't.
"Clam chowder," Trent said as he handed his menu over.
"I'll have the tilapia," Vivian said brightly, a vestige of her usual polished self showing as she settled into a familiar haunt. "With asparagus."
"Oh God, save us," Jenks said, dramatically holding his nose. "We do have over a thousand miles left to go in that tiny car."
"My mom's car isn't tiny," I said, and Trent frowned.
"It is with five people in it," he muttered.
Ivy was handing her menu to the woman. "I want the steak sandwich," she said. "In a to-go bag."
I gazed at her in question, but the woman was nodding. "I'll put these in," she said, making a last note on our bill. "Anyone else need anything?"
By the look of it, and the slight nudge Vivian was making at Trent to get him to slide over, Ivy needed someone's neck. I shook my head, but Trent spoke up, handing the waitress a folded bill. "I want another beer," he said. "And if you can get everyone's meal out here in five minutes, there's another one of those in it for you."
The woman looked at Ben Franklin's face and tucked it away. "I'll see what I can do, honey," she said, smiling at Ivy before she sashayed away.
"Beer and soup?" Jenks said as he dusted a thin sliver of silver, his own light hardly making a dent in the dusky shadows in here. "That's going to mix well."
"You'd be surprised by how a good beer mixes with clams," Trent said, his attention on the male waiter Ivy was blinking at slowly. God, this was getting uncomfortable, and I put a hand over my neck as it started to tingle.
"He's uptight about his timetable," Ivy said, almost sighing the words.
"And you're not?"
Trent's expression froze when she turned to him, smiling to show her little fangs. "Excuse me," she said as she got to her feet in one languorous move that made Pierce shiver. 'Course it could be the cold pop he'd just slammed down.
No one said a word as Ivy sat on the back edge of the fake boat and swung her feet over. Moving with liquid grace, she made a beeline for the vampire she'd had her eye on. People were getting out of her way, and the vamp in question was smiling, waiting for her.
"What is she doing?" Trent asked, but Vivian knew, her eyes cast down as she shifted on the bench to make more room for the rest of us. Hell, even our waitress knew what Ivy was doing.
I took a sip of my soda, watching Ivy drape her arms around the man and whisper something in his ear. "Keeping the rest of us safe," I said, trying not to worry about her. She'd be okay. And if Vegas had a freethinking master vampire, then this was probably the only spot between home and the coast that she'd be able to take the edge off.
Jenks frowned, clearly not happy, but as willing as I was to let her take care of her own needs. I didn't know if I should feel upset or not. I wasn't her keeper-but I was her friend.
Pierce was ignoring everyone, and Trent didn't seem to care apart from Ivy's tryst possibly slowing us down. Vivian, though, pushed her glass around, clearly screwing up her courage, and I wasn't surprised when she asked, "She and you-"
"No," I said before Jenks could offer his opinion. "We're not sharing blood." I felt Trent's eyes on me, but Pierce didn't look up from his drink. "We tried," I said, talking to the entire table though my gaze was on Vivian. "Well, we tried it enough to know that for it to happen, one of us would have to change too much. If I bend, she'd lose what she loved in me, and if she bends, I lose what I love about her." I shrugged, flaming red in embarrassment, but that was my problem.
Jenks clattered his wings, rising up and down as if testing his strength. "I'll keep an eye on her," he said, then frowned when Pierce made a rude noise. "To be sure she stays safe!" he added sharply. "I'm not going to watch. Tink's a Disney whore, I'm not a Peeping Tom."
Jenks gave me a meaningful head toss to Trent and flew away, taking a high path between the ceiling and the fake fishing nets.
"We don't have time for this," Trent said suddenly, and I wondered if Ivy's and my relationship bothered him. Curious.
"You're the one who wanted to eat," I said.
"I meant the rest of us could grab a decent meal while you showered, not a five-hour sightseeing excursion ending up in a sideshow restaurant."
That was just rude, not to mention an insult to Jimmy Buffett fans everywhere. "We've been trapped in that car for two days," I said. "We need a break." And I need to talk to you, stupid elf.
Trent ran a hand over his hair, leaving it attractively mussed. His eyes showed his mood, dark and irate, as he looked over the vacationing people who had nowhere to go for the rest of the night. His frustration peaked. "I need to be-"
"In Seattle by Sunday," I said, interrupting him. "Yeah, I got that part." I took a sip of my drink, which infuriated him for some reason. "Will you relax? Have a margarita or something. I told you I'd get you there, and I will. Trust me." That last jab had been sarcastically bitter, but I was ticked. I mean, why ask me to protect him on his way out to the West Coast, then free a demon to do it?
Vivian was watching me, her intelligent eyes squinting in question. She knew something was up, just not what.
"Trust you." Trent shifted in disapproval. "Seattle is fifteen thousand miles from here. Just getting to San Francisco will take us eight hours, even if we take 95."
"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Vivian said loudly, and the couple in the next boat over looked at us. "Are you crazy? No one takes 95!"
"Which means we can go as fast as we want," Trent said, his eyebrows bunching.
"We are not taking 95," Vivian said fervently, and I tuned them out, watching Ivy and her blood buddy slip out the back. Jenks gave me a color flash of green, and I turned back to the table. "If you get on 95, you don't stop!" Vivian finished intently.
Trent took a swig of his beer, looking normal. "I don't plan on stopping."
Vivian tossed a hand up in the air and pushed herself back into the cushions. "I'm coven, not one of God's angels. It's too dangerous."
Maybe he's relying on his demon friend, I thought bitterly. I didn't think any big, bad uglies on 95 would be a problem, even if we had to stop. Hell, we'd already evaded elven assassins and one severely disturbed demon. A soul eater. Crap on toast, I had to talk to Trent. He'd better not have any idea of what he had unleashed, because if he did, and he'd done it intentionally, I might be pissed enough to just walk away from this completely.
Trent leaned toward Vivian. "I don't see any other way of getting to Seattle in time other than taking 95," he said softly, his anger just in check.
"I said I'd get you there," I said, watching Pierce eye two women in shorts, his ears turning red. "Have some faith in the people you ask to protect you."
Feeling a hint from my last words, Trent leaned back, giving Pierce a good view of the female vamps making out in the corner.
His back against the cushions, Trent unrolled his silverware and arranged it perfectly with stiff motions. "I've seen how you protect people. Telling me to have faith isn't inspiring."
Oh, but summoning day-walking, soul-eating demons is?
Pierce pulled his eyes from the vamps long enough to snort his agreement, and my face flamed. "Have I ever not come through?"
Trent fingered his knife. "No, but your collateral damage is generally more than I want to pay-Morgan."
This from the man I had to save by going into a partnership with a demon? I frowned; Pierce looked happy for the first time since he'd gotten here. "And what's on your mind, demon bait?" I snapped at him. "Enjoying the show?"
Immediately Pierce's smile shifted to a frown. "I could have killed Al if not for you," he said, and Vivian started.
"You almost killed a demon?" she asked, eyebrows going high in interest. Her attention flicked from the two women to me and back to him. "Her demon?"
"Aye," he said, glancing at me darkly. "She stopped me."
"Who's going to protect me in the ever-after if not Al!" I said, fumbling my words as suddenly everyone at the table was looking at me like I'd killed Bambi's mother. "Al is the only thing between me and Newt, or worse! You look at me and think I've got this all under control, and I don't!"
Trent smiled as he moved his nearly empty glass of beer just so. "That's not what I see when I look at you."
"Me neither," Pierce said under his breath, and may God strike me dead if the two men didn't start to bond.
"What I meant," I said patiently, feeling like the butt of a joke, "is you think that I'm safe with them, but I'm not. If Al dies, I'm up crap creek."
Pierce spooned a piece of ice out of his drink. "Not my problem," he said, teeth clattering against it.
My jaw dropped. "Hey! You were the one who went to him with some stupid idea to be his familiar just so you could kill him."
"It's a capital fine idea," Pierce said indignantly, glaring at me from under his hat. "And it would have worked if not for you."
Vivian leaned closer. "You tried to kill a demon?"
"I almost made a fist of it, yes," Pierce said, his features still holding his anger at me. "It was the only reason I did tuck with them, and I opine that if the truth were known, then the coven might have to apologize for burying me alive, and they wouldn't want to do that, would they?"
Expression becoming pinched, Vivian sank back into the seat. I said nothing. As far as I was concerned, he was a black witch. And it bothered me, probably because I thought I might be one, too. Maybe I was being too harsh. Maybe.
Pierce gave me an angry look. "I'd be free tonight if not for your misguided, ignorant stupidity."
"Yeah, yeah, yeah," I said, unable to look up at him. "It's all my fault. And if you killed Al, where would I be? You can't protect me from Newt. Like it or not, I need Al. Go kill someone else's demon to make yourself a man, Mr. Black Magic User."
Pierce became silent as the Were in one flip-flop finished his set and got down amid a too-enthusiastic round of cheers.
"To freedom," Trent said, startling me. His glass was raised and, fingers fumbling, Pierce picked up his mostly empty glass and the two clinked.
Men. "Well, excuse me for trying to stay alive," I said, elbows on the table. I didn't like being here without Ivy or Jenks. "And I thought you didn't like Trent."
Pierce had taken a gulp, his eyes watering at the bubbles popping. "I can drink with a man and not like him," he said, and Trent smiled that infuriating men's-club smile.
"I bet you can," I said, but I was busy looking over the moving heads for Ivy. Shouldn't she be back by now? How long did it take to bite someone, anyway? Or was it the cleanup that took so long? I'd never been bitten where I wasn't fighting for my life three seconds later. Must be I was doing it wrong.
"Excuse me," Trent said suddenly, and my attention jerked to him as he rose and nearly pushed Vivian out of the booth.
"Where are you going?" I asked suspiciously.
Trent hesitated next to the table, and Vivian slipped back in. "The washroom." His eyes went to his empty beer glass, then back to me. Slipping into the narrow path, he wove his way to the back of the restaurant, past the kitchens and the big sign proclaiming BUOYS and GULLS. Catchy.
My head started to hurt. This might be my only chance to talk to Trent alone. Sighing, I stood, saying, "Vivian, you got Pierce, okay?"
Vivian looked at me in bewilderment, letting go of the straw she was downing her soda with. "He needs watching? What's he going to do?"
"I don't need watching," Pierce said indignantly, and I swung my legs over the edge of the boat the way Ivy had. She'd probably looked better doing it, though. Not answering Vivian, I pushed into motion to follow Trent, noticing that he was getting some appreciative glances from the surrounding patrons. He didn't give any indication that he knew I was behind him as the noise of the restaurant was replaced by the clatter and steam of the kitchen, and then the muted noise of the back hallway.
"Trent," I said as he reached the door to the restroom. Arm stiff, he pushed the door open and went in, not acknowledging that I was behind him.
I didn't slow down, following him in with my breath held and my shoulders tight.
Trent was at the mirror, head down as he held the sides of the white sink with a resigned air about him. Glancing up, his eyes twitched when they found me in the mirror's reflection. "Get out."
Arms swinging, I let my held breath out and decided it didn't stink too much in here. Ugly things, urinals. Going past him, I looked under the single stall, then kicked it open to make sure no one was standing on the toilet. Trust me, he'd said, but he had summoned Ku'Sox, and I needed to know why.
"You hired me for protection," I said stiffly. "That's what I'm doing."
Trent turned to lean against the sink. "It's a bathroom. Wait outside."
I stood with my hand on my hip, angry. "Seems like I remember that the elves who attacked you under the St. Louis arch had the same bits that you do," I said, and he frowned. Sauntering forward, I all but pinned him against the sink. "Remember St. Louis? The arch fell down? Why the hell did you free a day-walking demon? Didn't trust me to get you there, huh?"
Turning his back on me, he pumped the soap dispenser, having to go to the next one before anything came out. The rims of his ears were red, and my anger grew. "I know you girls go to the bathroom in packs, but I'd appreciate some privacy," he said, his jaw tight and the skin around his eyes pinched. "No self-respecting assassin takes their mark in the john."
"And no self-respecting assassin makes a hit on an interstate, either." I moved closer, well within his discomfort zone. "You want to tell me what in the hell you thought you were doing freeing a day-walking demon from under the St. Louis arch?"
Trent didn't pause, his smooth motion never bobbling as he turned off the water, shook his hands, and reached for a paper towel. Silent, he turned, his expression closed.
A quiver rose through me and tightened my gut. I wanted to shove him, but I managed to keep my hands where they were. Through the cement walls, I could hear cheers as the next band took the stage. "Ku'Sox was halfway to killing you until I shoved that energy back into him. He knocked down the arch, trying to kill both of us," I said, pushing forward until we were only inches apart. "And then I freed you from your familiar bond and made you immune to him. What I want to know is whether you've been planning this from day one, or if you're making this up as you go along."
He turned his back on me, not looking at my reflection as he arranged his hair. "I've known about Ku'Sox since last year," he said, and I dropped back, not knowing if I believed him or not. His eyes flicked to mine in the mirror. "You think Ivy is a planner? She has nothing on a motivated elf with too much money." He looked away, shifting one thin lock of hair over his ear. "I've got this under control."
I blinked, trying not to lose it, but my hands shook. I could almost hear him add, "Don't worry your pretty little head about it." "Yeah?" I barked, glad I'd waited until we were alone to bring this up-this way, there'd be no witnesses when I killed him. "Do you have any idea how much trouble you're in? The demons are pissed. They can't control this guy, can't kill him! That's why he was imprisoned!"
Trent slowly turned, gesturing as if waiting for me to leave.
"Trying to catch him the first time was a friggin' war," I said, remembering Al's spells slithering through our connected brains. "Ku'Sox isn't confined to the ever-after during daylight, and he eats people to absorb their souls! He eats people, Trent."
A flicker of emotion crossed the back of Trent's eyes. A soft twitch at his lips. I pounced on it, seeing a sliver of humanity.
"You saw him eating those pixies!" I said, hammering the guilt home. "That's what he does. He eats people because his soul doesn't work right. Ku'Sox is a magically engineered disaster the demons created while trying to break the curse your people put on them in your stupid war! What they got was something so horrendous and disturbed that they buried it in the next world over. And you go and free him?"
Trent's green eyes hardened. "I have this under control."
I snorted. "Like you got him to stop eating pixies? Just because he can't kill you doesn't mean you control him! The demons aren't blaming me for this, they're blaming you! This emancipated-familiar thing makes you liable. You're going to have demons with little red robes coming at you for breaking the law of uncommon stupidity if you're not careful."
His gaze on mine narrowed, and he turned away. "I have this under control. He's sworn to protect me."
Did he not get it? "Protect you?" I yelped. "He ate pixies-alive-to distract them so we could escape with Jenks."
"You're welcome for that," Trent interrupted, and my head pounded.
"If you didn't think I could protect you, then why am I here? Huh?" I asked, hands on my hips as I stood between the door and him.
A small, infuriating smile showed on his face, shocking me. "Because Quen wouldn't let me out of Cincinnati without you."
My teeth ground together, and I forced them apart. I didn't think Quen knew about Ku'Sox, and I sure as hell believed that Ceri didn't. "You are an idiot," I managed, hands in fists.
Trent turned back to the mirror and brushed nonexistent dust off himself. The motion lost something with his being in a casual shirt instead of a thousand-dollar suit. "Right back at you, babe."
Babe? Did he just call me babe? Shaking, I turned on my heel. This guy was a piece of work. "I'll wait outside for you," I said, not trusting myself with him right now.
"If you feel you have to."
Pissed, I stiff-armed my way out of the bathroom. You can die here for all I care, I thought, the warmth and noise growing as I stalked down the empty hall. Trent was a jerk. A jerk and an ass. The demons might not blame me, but the coven would. And then I'd have to take care of Ku'Sox myself. What in hell was I? Trent's maid?
Not looking at the man I pushed past, I peered out over the kitchen archway to the restaurant-then paused. Cinnamon. Cinnamon and wine.
My anger vanished, and I turned to the man now heading for the men's room. Nice slacks, nondescript windbreaker, soft shoes, dark hair, well built. Smelled like a snickerdoodle dunked in wine.
Shit, the guy was an elf.