you! Please!”
The demon holding a staff to his chest shrugged. “Well?” the demon asked me. “You know him best. Is it Ku’Sox or his familiar?”
I edged past Trent, feeling every stone under my foot, every gust of gritty wind in my snarled hair. Weary, I came to a halt before the downed figure, seeing the emotion behind his eyes, the wrinkles just starting at the corners, the stubble glinting red in the rising sun. It looked the same as when I had left Nick at midnight.
Reaching out, I touched his face, rubbing a bit of blood off his cheek, feeling it between my fingers, remembering Nick’s smile that turned into betrayal, not once, twice, but three times. Was this Nick or Ku’Sox?
“Rachel,” he whispered, begging. “Tell them it’s me.”
My heart beat, and my lungs emptied. Ceri was gone. Pierce. But what hurt the most was that two girls would grow up not knowing Ceri’s proud strength, how her compassion blended with a brutal justice, and that she had loved them with the depth of her soul.
“Rachel!” he screamed, terror making his face lined. “You told me that you would keep me safe!”
I leaned in, smelling the fear in his sweat under the stink of burnt amber. “You left the church,” I breathed, and he jerked away from me.
Trent’s light touch on my elbow shocked through me, and I spun. “It’s Nick,” he said to me, his desperate expression the last thing I’d ever expected.
Trent stepped forward, the demons silently watching. “You know it’s him.”
“He should be dead!” I shouted, and he nodded, his eyes closing in a strength-gathering blink. “He is slime! He’s everything I despise. He’s hurt you, he’s hurt me, and he has lied to me too many times. He doesn’t deserve to walk away from this!”
Nick pulled himself together, shaking as he looked up at me whispering, “Please.”
Trent shoved a toe at him to be quiet, then took my hands to draw my attention to himself instead. On our fingers, the slavers glinted blood red in the coming sunrise. “You’re right,” he said, and Nick whimpered. “But let him live. Not for him. For me.”
“For you!” I jerked out of his grip, falling back into Al. His thick hand fell on my shoulder, and I pulled myself straight.
Jaw clenching, Trent followed me. Nick cowered behind him, the torn remains of Ku’Sox steaming beside him in the cold wind. “For me,” he said, but his voice was too soft for it to be him wanting to take his revenge on Nick alone. “I want . . .” he said, then hesitated, taking a breath of air and lifting his chin. “I want one pure thing in my life,” he said loudly, his voice ringing in the red-tinted air. “I want one thing I can point to and say, ‘That is good, and it’s a part of me.’ ”
My heart thudded and my eyes teared up. He thought I was good? I couldn’t speak as Trent took my hands and pulled me a step from Al, and I shivered as the demon’s touch fell away. “I want,” he said softly, “you to keep what you can of the person you want to be. Don’t sacrifice it for this.” Lip curling, he gave Nick a sidelong, dismissive glance. “Don’t let your desire for revenge give him the power to make you what you don’t want to be.”
“It’s hard,” I said, and the demons around me began to shuffle, eager to be gone.
But he smiled and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “Of course it is. If it was easy, everyone would do it.”
Newt pushed the dead carcass of Ku’Sox into the hole with her foot, and Nick scrabbled away from the edge. “Well?”
It hurt to say it, but I took a breath and looked straight up. Trent’s fingers were clasped in mine. “It’s Nick,” I said, then danced back when Nick cried out, reaching for me.
As one, the demons groaned. Al’s shoulders slumped, and then his eyes narrowed. “I say we still kill him,” he muttered, reaching, and Newt slammed her staff down between them.
“I claim him!” she shouted, swinging her staff in a wide circle, and they fell back, used to her outbursts. Trent pulled me out of the way, and I watched Newt almost crouch over Nick, her robes covering his feet. “He’s mine! He’s mine by rights! His actions cost me a familiar, and I claim him!”
“No!” Nick cried out, his hand reaching for me. “Rachel! Please!”
Her head tilted, Newt waited, one eye almost slitted shut as she looked at me. I nodded, and the demon laughed, hauling him up and giving him a shake. “Go wait for me,” she intoned, and he stared, panting in fear. She gave him a shove, and he stumbled, vanishing as she flung him to her rooms. I thought of him landing in the mockery of my kitchen, and a tiny part of me felt the first hints of justice.
I jumped when Al’s hand landed on my shoulder again. “He will be dead in a week,” the demon murmured, his ash-scented breath tickling my ear.
But I knew Nick. He was too ugly to die.
The sound of Newt’s staff scraping on the stones was loud as she came forward to us. Demons were vanishing with their gargoyles in pairs and groups, and the bite of windblown rock blew about my feet, rising. I closed my eyes when it reached my face, and my hair began to stream behind me. I didn’t know what was going to happen tomorrow. Maybe I could take a day off.
“It was an excellent Hunt,” Trent said, and my eyes flew open to see him extending his hand to Dali. “I am Trenton Aloysius Kalamack. I am not my ancestor.”
Dali looked at it, then Trent. “No, you are not,” he said, his hand unmoving. “But you come from the same place.”
Trent’s hand slowly dropped, and he inclined his head in understanding. “Perhaps later.”
Dali backed up a step, his eyes touching mine and Al’s. “I need to think on this.” A coating of ever-after shimmered over him, leaving the clear air of morning empty of him.
Newt sighed. “And so it circles,” she said, her black eyes coming to meet mine as the sun spilled over the rim of the ever-after, turning me a blood red. “It looks as if I won’t be killing you this morning, Rachel. You have been given a reprieve.”
Nodding, I pulled the slaver ring off my finger and handed it to Trent. The two demons winced as Trent removed his slave ring, silent as he handed them back to me. They were mine again, and I could destroy them.
I was alive, but what color was my soul?
Chapter Thirty-One
There was no moon as I followed Trent down the soft sawdust path of his private gardens. It was silent but for the sighing of the wind in the tender new leaves, and I could smell the cedar the path was made from. Small ferns laced the path, tiny because they’d been above the earth for only a few weeks, but I knew that by the end of the summer they’d be nearly as high as my knees.
“I appreciate you coming out,” Trent said, a few steps ahead of me, looking comfortable in his black pants and gray shirt, his tie loose about his neck and no coat on against the slight chill. “I have a clear schedule, but showing up at your church after midnight isn’t prudent.”
I thought of the news vans and nodded. “It’s not like I have anything on my plate,” I said, staring up at the dark branches as my steps slowed. No, it had been very quiet the last week. Most days it was just Jenks and me knocking about in the church—Ivy was spending a lot of time with Nina, trying to bring her back from the brink. I’d gotten a lot done in the garden, but I was bored to tears. When Trent had asked me to come over when I’d called to tell him I had the curse to mend his hand ready, I’d jumped at the chance. But I was more than a little curious as to why we hadn’t done it in his office or private apartments. Maybe he wanted to make s’mores? I could smell a wood fire somewhere.
“Business still slow?” he asked, holding a dogwood branch heavy with last night’s rain out of the way.
“Nonexistent, but Al is keeping me busy.” I had to force myself to move forward to duck under the branch,
