Pale Demon

Frustrated, I tucked the splat gun in the small of my back.

“You’ll burn for this,” Oliver snarled.

I’d had enough. Angry, I grabbed his shirtfront, shaking him as he tried to get his eyes to focus. “You should have listened to Vivian!” I said, then shoved him back against the cupboard. Wincing, he felt the back of his head, not nearly scared enough.

“Well?” Ivy said. “You want me to find some friends and drain them?”

She was joking, but Leon paled.

I scowled, wondering if Vivian knew they were here and if she was okay. Maybe they just didn’t tell her what they were doing. “I have to make a call,” I muttered, rocking back to get my phone out of my bag. “If any of them move, break their fingers. If any of them speak, make it their teeth.”

Ivy smiled to show her fangs, and Amanda shrank back. Unspent adrenaline made me jittery as I found my bag and pulled out my phone. On impulse, I flipped it open and scrolled to the camera function. “Smile!” I said, snapping a picture of the four of them slumped against the cupboards, then carefully punched in Vivian’s number. Not that the press would believe a photo, but I wanted it for my scrapbook.

Oliver glared at the fake sound of a shutter clicking, and he almost got up, settling back when Ivy cooed at him. She was doing remarkably well, only the faintest widening of her pupils giving away her bloodlust.

I sat on the arm of one of the chairs where I could see out into the hall and them. The propped-up door was nearby, and I kicked at it. I hadn’t let go of that broken ley line, slowly replenishing my chi and spindling it in case they tried something else.

Finally Vivian picked up. “Hey,” I said before she could even say hello. “Did you know about your friends crashing my hotel room this afternoon? They made a bloody mess.”

“No, but that explains a lot.” She was on the conference-room floor if the background noise meant anything, and I held the phone closer when I heard Pierce’s low inquiry of my state of being. “Everyone still alive?” she asked.

“For the moment. And only because they stocked their splat balls with nonlethal charms. They blew the door right off my room, and I’m not paying for it. Aren’t coma spells a little too close to black magic for you guys?”

“Your word against ours,” Oliver said snidely, and Ivy moved, threatening to hit him.

His voice was far too confident. I took a breath to tell him to shut up, but his eyes narrowed in victory and he smashed the back of his hand against the cupboard. There was a snap of glass as the stone in his ring broke.

“Down!” I shouted, and Ivy dove for cover. I cowered behind the propped-up door, but nothing happened.

Oliver was laughing, and slowly I got to my feet, embarrassed. Vivian was yelling through the phone, but Ivy was staring at me, her eyes a scared black. A second later, I knew why.

“Earthquake!” she exclaimed, and I staggered for balance as the floor suddenly became Jell-O.

“Get under a table, Rachel!” Vivian was yelling. “Get in a doorway!”

A chunk of ceiling fell between Oliver and me. I froze, not knowing what to do. As one, the four witches ran for the door. It was all I could do to stay upright, and I fell into the couch as they found the hallway and vanished. Pictures were falling, and one of the windows cracked, sounding like a gunshot.

“Rachel!” Ivy cried, then grabbed my arm and yanked me into the threshold of the door to the hallway. We stood there, holding the doorway to remain upright as the ceiling flaked and bits of plaster covered the burn marks. Finally it stopped, but I was still shaking. My eyes went to the empty hall. They were gone.

“Why do people live here?” I asked, looking at the room as if I’d been betrayed as I took the gun out of my pants and dropped it on the couch.

“Did they do that? Make the earthquake?” Ivy asked.

“Probably.” Her pupils were still black, and I shifted away from her, not wanting my own fear to tip her over the edge. I put my ear to the phone to find that the connection had been lost. Pierce was probably on his way back already, a day late and a dollar short. The damage to the room from the quake had been minimal, and the broken door from their attack could be dismissed by a paid-off insurance adjuster. I still had my photograph, though.

“And they call me a black witch,” I said as I closed my phone and gingerly picked my way through the burns and plaster dust to the window to look down and see if I could spot them leaving. I couldn’t help but wonder how many of the smaller quakes that the coast sustained were from the coven. This was just nasty. But at least I was alive.

Ivy had gone to the wet bar, and the hiss of something full of sugar and bubbles opening was loud. We both were alive.

“Thank you for helping me,” I said.

Ivy exhaled long and loud as she came up from her drink. “You’re welcome. Any time.”

I smiled, but my thoughts were on her last words before the coven had shown up. Ivy and I worked well together. We always had.

Too bad I’d totally screwed it up.

Twenty

I leaned forward over the backseat to look up at the tall conference hotel we were trying to turn into, feeling lost as we waited for traffic to clear. We weren’t in my mom’s car since it would be impossible to find a parking spot. No, we were still cashing in on Trent’s hospitality, and we’d ridden across town in the car his hotel had on reserve for when their most important guests wanted to go somewhere. The car was long, black, and shiny, and came with a driver. Only problem was that Trent wasn’t in it. No Jenks, either. To say I was worried would be like saying pixies were a tad mischievous.

It was getting close to midnight and the conference was starting to kick into high gear. Lights from the oncoming traffic were nonstop. Pierce sat beside me, his feet spread wide as he tried to look unaffected by the crowds, but I could tell they were getting to him. He wasn’t happy that the coven had used his chat with Vivian to take a shot at me, and he’d apologized several times, thinking I blamed him. I didn’t, but the odds the demons had given me were sounding more realistic than they had.

Pierce was wearing his long coat despite the weather being too hot for it, and he held his hat like a life preserver. Dressed in brown slacks and a brightly colored vest over a white shirt, he made an odd statement—one that was probably going to go unnoticed. Just from the car, I could see three witches in traditional robes and hats. Behind them was a woman wearing wings for the ball tonight, and behind her three guys dressed like Neo from The Matrix. To be fair, though, there were just as many people wearing business suits as pointy hats, and the clothing of choice seemed to be jeans. Goth was still in, and almost every fifth person had a glowing bracelet with SAN FRANCISCO—2008 blinking from it, this year’s knick-knack of choice, apparently.

Ivy is going to fit right in, I thought as I glanced at her, up with the driver. The turn signal of the car ticked as we sat in silence, waiting for someone to move so we could pull into the drop-off area. I leaned back into the cushions, my curiosity rising when Pierce reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a badge with SECURITY on it. “When did you get that?” I asked as he looped it over his head. The name on it was Wallace Smyth. Holy crap, Pierce stole it?

He smiled, teeth glinting in the light of the oncoming traffic. “This afternoon,” he said, shuffling through his pockets again to bring out two more. “Before the cowardly dogs attacked you. You can’t get past the first floor without a badge. Ivy, here is yours. I thought you’d like the black.”

Ivy took the black lanyard, looking bemused. Her badge had her name on it. “Thank you, Pierce,” she said, looping it over her neck, and he smiled.

“And, Rachel, I picked up yours, as well. It was good I did. You may have paid for it months ago, but they’d lost it and it took three people an hour to produce another.”

“I’m not surprised,” I said, feeling the cool plastic in my fingers. Mine said PRESENTER. Great. I was part of the entertainment.

“Thanks, Pierce,” I said as I attached it to my bag, hoping there wasn’t a bug or a charm on it. If we got stopped because Pierce had stolen a badge, I was going to be mad, but I really appreciated his picking them up. I didn’t give him enough credit, and a pang of guilt twanged through me.