planning to shove her over.
'No!' I exclaimed, not knowing why except she was the only thing in here on the ground floor not marked up and defiled.
But Trent scowled, and as I grasped his shoulder to jerk him back, he reached out.
Pain raced through my arm and into my chest, cramping my muscles like an electric shock. I heard Trent yelp, and I must have passed out because the next thing I knew, I was laying on the floor four feet back with Jenks hovering in front of me.
'Rachel!' he cried, and I put a hand to my aching head, my arm moving slower than it should have as I propped myself up. 'Are you all right?'
I took a breath, then another. My roving gaze found Trent sitting cross-legged and holding his head. His nose was bleeding.
'Stupid-ass elf,' I muttered, feeling my heartbeat. 'You stupid-ass elf!' I shouted, and Jenks flew backward, smiling in relief.
'You're okay,' he sighed, the sparkles sifting from him turning a clear silver.
'What in hell is wrong with you!' I yelled, my voice echoing against the distant ceiling. 'You don't think it's protected?'
Trent looked up. 'Jenks was sitting on it.'
'Jenks is a pixy!' I exclaimed to burn off some angst. 'No one takes them into account because they don't know how dangerous they are, you dumb crap of a businessman. You are completely out of your element, so just sit there, okay? You got me here, now let the professionals work, or your insufferable smarter-than-thou attitude is going to get us killed! I said I'd protect you and get you home, but I need you to stop doing stupid stuff. Just…sit there and do nothing!'
The last was shouted, but I was really mad. 'God help you!' I swore as I got up and shook the last of the cramping out of my hand. 'Now I have a headache! Thanks a hell of a lot!'
Jenks was grinning, and my brow furrowed at my unprofessional show of anger. ''Bout time you put him in his place,' he said, and my frown deepened.
'Yeah,' I muttered as I creakily moved to the statue and stood before sweet Mother Mary and her smug smile with my fists on my hips. 'But how are we going to get to the samples?'
Jenks's wings increased their pitch, and I looked at his expression of satisfaction. Immediately I felt my own expression ease. 'You already have a way in?' I asked.
He nodded. 'There's a crack in the base small enough for a mouse. I'll get them.'
My breath slipped from me in an audible sigh. The magic protecting the statue didn't recognize him. He didn't count. The thing was, he did count. He counted a lot, and he was going to save my butt again. 'Thanks, Jenks,' I whispered.
'Hey, that's what I'm here for,' he said, then darted behind the statue and was gone.
I had a trip home. I really thought I might. Maybe.
The silence was loud as I turned to find Trent still messing with his nose. The scent of blood seemed to pull whispers from the shadows at the christening pool, and though I knew it was my imagination, it was freaking me out. Going to the limit of the holy ground, I sat on the top step, remembering standing here at Trent's wedding. Right before I arrested him. I could feel Trent's presence behind me but didn't turn. He was silent for about six heartbeats, and then I heard him rise. From outside at the base of the front doors came scratching, a soft digging sound that gave me the willies. It started and stopped as if afraid, but the door was a lot thicker than the glass windows.
I forced my breathing to stay even when Trent stopped five feet from me and just stared. Swinging my waist pack around, I took out my last water and downed it. My splat gun was next to it, and bringing it out, I sighted down it at the front door.
Trent looked me up and down. 'Is that all you're going to do?'
My pulse quickened, and I gazed at the front of the basilica where the scratching was coming from. 'I might have a snack later if nothing comes through those doors.'
Jenks's voice came echoing up, sounding hollow. 'I found a terminal!' he shouted. 'It's in a cement room with no doors. I squeezed in through the wiring. Tore my freaking wing. Tink's dildo, I'm leaking enough dust to be a lightning rod. It's going to take me some time to hack in and figure out their system, but I can do it.'
I pulled my satchel with my spelling stuff closer. If Jenks was using Tink's name in vain, he was okay. The sun would rise at seven and Minias would be free. If we weren't out of here by then, it was going to get a whole lot nastier, holy ground or not. A wooden door and a maybe-gargoyle wouldn't stop a real demon. Not by a long shot.
Trent sighed, easing himself down to sit on the stairs with his knees almost up to his chin.
And now we wait.
Twenty-seven
I flipped my splat gun out of my waistband, letting it spin like a gunslinger's pistol before aiming it at the distant door. The scratching there had quit hours ago, shortly after the sound of a large rock hitting the pavement shook the dust from the ceiling. Apparently, the gargoyles were still around. That had made me feel secure enough that I'd managed to grab a few winks a couple of hours ago while Trent stood guard.
The watch—on loan from Ivy—about my wrist said it was twenty minutes to sunrise. Twenty minutes before all hell was going to break loose, and here I was playing gunslinger. Trent would be able to pop out when things got rough with his freaking 'magic word,' but I had a circle drawn beside the altar for Jenks and me to hide in if worse came to worst. It ought to hold until Newt showed. My spelling supplies to take Al's name were in it, just waiting for the focusing object. I was going to work the curse as soon as Jenks found the demon's DNA. If I didn't survive, at least everyone I cared about would be safe. Hurry up, Jenks.
'Bang,' I whispered, then pulled the gun back to me and tucked it in at the small of my back. I was dying to go out and see what had hit the street before the front door. Tired, I glanced at the statue, then Trent sitting slumped with his back against the defiled altar. He had nodded off for a few hours around midnight, trusting I'd keep him safe.
This was taking it right to the wire—and that was assuming I had a ride home. Crap, I was tired of this. The theoretical charm shop Jenks sometimes mocked me with was looking mighty good right now. Sure, I had been all spit and indignant righteousness when I told Trent that Jenks hadn't used my ride home to get to the ever-after, but the last few hours before sunrise were dragging deep across my soul, and I feared that I was living in a fairy tale if I expected Minias to accept that Jenks was a hair scrunchy and deserved a free ride.
Trent felt me looking at him and woke up. His eyes were puffy from the grit and tired, and his face showed his strain. I looked away and stretched for my hat, dropping it onto my head and pulling it low so I couldn't see him. Exhaling, I forced the tension out. Maybe I could figure ley line traveling out if there weren't demons breathing down my neck like the last time. Until Jenks came up with Al's cellular sample, there was nothing else to do. I'd been trying to piece it together all night.
My eyes shut and I made my muscles relax. If Jenks was right, ley lines were what kept the ever-after connected to reality. All I had to do was learn how to use them, and Jenks and I would be home free. Sure. Easy stuff.
Like I had a hundred times already tonight, I reached a thought out to the nearest line but didn't tap it, afraid a demon would sense me doing it. I lingered there, feeling the energy rush past my consciousness like a red- sheened, silver ribbon. It suddenly occurred to me that the energy was flowing one-way, into our reality. Was the ever-after shrinking? Its substance flowing into our reality like water is drawn to puddle up from a small drop into a larger one? Maybe that was why the ever-after was all broken up.
Tension filtered back, tightening my muscles one by one as I tried to remember what it had felt like when I'd been carried along the lines of energy. The thought of Ivy had brought me home once.
My face warmed. Newt had said I loved Ivy more than the church. I wasn't going to deny it, but there were all kinds of love, and how shallow would I be if my anchor to reality was a hunk of real estate? It was the people
