The Outlaw Demon Wails

Twenty-four

A bright glow from the noon sun filled the kitchen, and I sat with one elbow on the table, my forehead cupped in my hand. The other hand, the one with the demon mark, was firmly on the cool glass of the scrying mirror. From the open kitchen window came the sounds of pixies at play. I was exhausted, having missed out on almost an entire night of sleep. And Minias, the demon from judicial hell, was not being helpful.

"What do you mean, you won't do the curse?" I said aloud so Ivy, sitting on the counter by the sink, could hear at least one end of the conversation. "It was your idea!"

A ribbon of irritation-colored thought slipped through my mind, followed by the eerie sensation of words not mine in my head. Al cut a deal two days ago. He agreed to stand trial, so he's out on bail.

"Trial?" I yelped, and Ivy uncrossed her legs in a show of worry. But Al being out for two days would explain how he'd had time to create a disguise to look like my dad. I hadn't wanted to go to the demons but if Ceri twisted the curse, one of us would have to take on the smut—assuming she would still do it—and if I went through the demons, I could negotiate the smut away. That Minias was reneging on our unfinished arrangement ticked me off. "When is his trial?" I asked, trying not to freak out.

I pressed my hand harder into the scrying mirror when Minias's presence seemed to fade while he presumably searched for the answer. I was very glad the calling glyph worked when the sun was up. Actually, this was the best time to use it since Minias couldn't follow the connection and simply…appear.

Here it is, came Minias's bothered thought, diving through my idle musings like ice water. He's down for sometime in the thirty-sixth.

I closed my eyes and struggled for strength. "The thirty-sixth. Is that this month?" We only had thirty-odd days a month, but they were demons.

No. It's the year.

"Year!" I yelped, and Ivy's face pinched in worry. "This isn't fair! You came to me. I said I'd think about it. I thought about it. I want to do it! He's terrorizing my mother."

Not my problem. Al is functioning within the law, and everyone is happy. You'll get your say in court after he does, and if it's determined he broke his word to you, Newt will put him in a bottle and that will be the end of it.

"I won't survive twenty years waiting for him to come up on the docket!"

It's not an important case, and you'll have to wait, he said. I'm busy. Is there anything else you want to bitch about?

"You little will-o'-wisp of a ghost fart," I snarled, borrowing one of Jenks's favorites. "I know who's summoning him. I can't touch him because summoning demons isn't illegal."

You should go into politics and get a law passed, Minias said, and when I took a breath to protest, he snapped the connection.

I jumped, catching a yelp of surprise at the abrupt sensation of half my mind vanishing. It wasn't really, but I'd been functioning with an expanded capacity and was back to normal.

"Damn it all to the Turn and back!" I yelled, then shoved my scrying mirror across the table to thunk into the wall. "Al cut a deal. He's out on bail and free to harass me all he wants. By the time his ticket comes up on the docket, I'll be dead and he can say anything he wants."

Ivy's expression took on a look of pity, and she drew her knees up to her chin. "I'm sorry." She had been treating me differently since our coffee in the mall. Not standoffish exactly, but a bit hesitant. Maybe it was because our relationship had changed. Or maybe the shift was because I had smacked her into the wall and almost fried her.

"It's not fair!" I exclaimed, standing up and stomping to the fridge. "It's bloody hell not fair!" Furious at my helplessness, I yanked open the fridge and grabbed a bottled juice. "I find out who's summoning Al," I said as I turned and tried to get the stupid thing open. "And then I can't arrest him. I agree to exchange names with Al, and they change their mind."

"We'll work something out." Ivy looked at the archway and put her feet on the floor.

"His court date is in the thirty-sixth," I said, still struggling with the lid. "I don't even know when that is. And I can't get the damn lid off this juice!"

Slamming the bottle down on the center counter, I stormed out, headed for the living room. "Where's the phone?" I barked, though I knew where it was. "I have to call Glenn."

My bare feet slapped on the hardwood floors. The soothing grays and smoky shades Ivy had decorated the room in did nothing to calm me. I snatched up the phone and punched Glenn's number in from memory.

"I had better not get his voice mail," I grumbled, knowing he was working today. It was the day after Halloween and he would have a lot of cleanup to do.

"Glenn here," came his preoccupied voice, and then a startled, "Rachel? Hey, I'm glad to hear from you. How did you do making it through Halloween?"

My first nasty words died in his concern. Leaning against the fireplace mantel, I let my tension go. "I'm fine," I said, "but my mom spent the night with my favorite demon."

The silence was heavy. "Rachel. I'm so sorry. Is there anything I can do?"

I brought my head up when I realized he thought she was dead. "She's alive," I said belligerently, and I heard him exhale. "I know who's summoning Al. I need a warrant for Tom Bansen. He's an I.S. boy, if you can believe it."

There was no answer, and my blood pressure spiked. "Glenn?"

"Uh, I can't help you, Rachel, unless he's broken a law."

My hand, gripping the phone, started to shake. Frustration knotted my stomach, and that combined with the lack of sleep had me at my rope's end. "There's nothing you can do?" I said softly. "Nothing you can dig up on this guy? The coven is either trying to kill me under the I.S.'s blessing or Tom's a stinking mole. There's got to be something!"

"I'm not in the business of harassing innocent people," Glenn said tightly.

"Innocent people?" I said, waving at nothing. "My mom is going to be hospitalized in the funny farm because of last night. I have to stop him now. The freaking bureaucrats have him out on bail!"

"Tom Bansen?"

"No, Al!"

Glenn took a slow breath. "What I meant was if you catch Tom in the act of sending Al to kill you, I can do something, but it's hearsay right now. I'm sorry."

"Glenn, I need some help here! The only options left to me are really ugly!"

"Don't go after Bansen," Glenn said, his voice carrying a new hardness. "None of them, you hear me?" He sighed, and I could almost see him rub his forehead. "Give me today. I'll find something on one of them. That widow is probably a good bet. Her file is as thick as her late husband's."

Frustrated, I spun to the high window and the red leaves still clinging to the tree. "My mother is sedated on her couch, and it's my fault," I whispered, guilt just about breaking my soul. "I'm not going to wait around for him to start on my brother. I have to be proactive on this, Glenn. If I'm not, everyone I care about will be killed."

"I got you a warrant for Trent this spring," Glenn said. "I can do this. Call your brother and get him on holy ground, then give me a chance to do my job. Don't go after Mr. Bansen, or God help me, I'll be knocking on your door with a pair of cuffs and a zip-strip myself."

Head bowed, I tightened my arm about my middle. I didn't like relying on other people when someone I loved was in danger. Let him do his job? That sounded so easy. "Okay," I said, my voice flat. "I won't go after Tom. Thanks. Sorry for barking at you. I had a rough night."

"That's my girl," he said, cutting the connection before I could respond.

Worn out, I hung up the phone. I could smell coffee, and I headed for the kitchen and Ivy's ideas. I wouldn't go after Tom without a warrant—the man would have me in the I.S. lockup for harassment—but maybe I could lean on him a little harder. He obviously wasn't convinced I was a threat. Perhaps if I set fire to his lawn—by accident—he might wait a few days to summon Al again.

I jerked to a stop in the threshold of the kitchen, shocked to find Trent standing between the center island counter and the table, trying to look like he wasn't bothered by the angry living vampire staring at him. The shoes I had left by Quen's bed were cleaned and on the table, and Jenks was on the counter. My face reddened. Crap, I'd forgotten all about him.

"Hey!" the pixy snarled, red sparks dropping from him as he got in my face. "Where the hell have you been? I was stuck in Trent's security office all night!"

"Jenks!" I exclaimed, dropping back. "God, I'm sorry. I sort of drove right by."

"You didn't drive by, you broke the moss-wipe gate!" His tiny features twisted with anger, he hovered before me, the scent of ozone dripping off him like the sparkles he was letting slip. "Thanks a hell of a lot. I had to bum a ride home with greenie-weenie here."

Trent, obviously. Before the sink, Ivy uncrossed her arms, more comfortable now that I wasn't waving my dirty laundry from the adjacent room for him to see. She might have warned me, but I'd been throwing off enough emotion to hit her like a bus.

"Relax, pixy," Ivy said, shifting into motion to hand me my juice bottle with the lid twisted off. "Rachel had a lot on her mind."

"Yeah?" he snapped, wings clattering harshly. "More important than her partner? You left me behind, Rachel. You left me behind!"

Guilt hit me, and I flicked a glance at Trent. Still waving my laundry.

Wings blurring, Jenks darted into the mended rack when Ivy's eyes narrowed. "She found out her dad wasn't her real dad," Ivy said, "and she was on her way to talk to her mom. Give her a break, Jenks."

Jenks's held breath escaped him in a long, wondering sound, and then his pointing finger dropped. The dust slipping from him thinned to a whisper. "Really? Who's your dad?"

Frowning, I sent my attention to Trent, who still hadn't moved but for shifting his feet, grinding his dress shoes into the grit of salt left on the floor. He looked awkward, soft almost, having changed into a pair of jeans and a green shirt. Like I'm going to open that topic up with him in the room?

"Thank you for bringing my partner home," I said stiffly. "The door is down that hall."

Trent didn't say anything as he took in the wonderfulness that was my life. I had saved his friend, father figure, and head of security. Maybe he wanted to thank me.

Ivy's eyes widened for no reason I could see, and before I knew what was happening, she ducked when a flood of pixy children raced in over her head by way of the open kitchen window. Shrieking and yelling, they swirled around their dad, making my eyeballs hurt. Ivy had her hands over her ears, and Trent looked positively agonized.

"Out!" Jenks cried. "I'll be right there. Tell your mom I'll be right there!" He looked at me in question. "You mind if I…take a moment?"

"Take all the time you want," I said, slumping into my chair at the table and setting the open bottled juice beside the scrying mirror. I thought about hiding the mirror from Trent, then let it stay in view. My stomach hurt too much to drink anything.

Jenks headed for the kitchen window, hanging back until sure all his kids went before him. "I'm sorry, Jenks," I said morosely, and he touched his forehead in a mock salute.

"No problem, Rache. Family always comes first. I want to hear all about it."

And he was gone.

I puffed my breath out when the ultrasonic barrage vanished. Ivy turned to get a mug from the cupboard. I didn't care that Trent was standing awkwardly within smacking distance, and I put my head on the table beside the mirror. I'm so tired.

"What do you want, Trent?" I said, feeling my words come back to me from the table as a warm breath. I had too much to do. I had to figure out a way to put the fear of God in Tom without getting caught. Or I could go for what was behind door number two and try to find a way to kill Al. They wouldn't put me in jail for that, would they? Well, at least not this side of the lines.

Ivy set a cup of coffee by my hand, and I pulled my head up to give her a grateful smile. Shrugging, she sat before her cracked computer, and together we faced Trent.

"I want to talk to you about Quen," he said, his dexterous fingers moving restlessly and his fair hair starting to float in the breeze from the open window. "Do you have a minute?"

I've got until the sun goes down, I thought. Then I'm going to step out onto unsanctified ground and try to kill a demon. But I took a sip of coffee and gave him a dry "Let's hear it."

The knock on our front door made me sigh out loud, and I wasn't surprised when I heard it open and recognized Ceri's soft steps as she hastened down the hall. My thoughts jerked back to her offer to help me with the curse herself. I wasn't sure if the offer was still open since we had argued about her making charms for Al. That's not why she was here, though, back from her all-night vigil at the basilica. She was here to learn if the man she loved had lived out the night.

"Rachel? Ivy? Jenks?" she called, and Ivy eased back into her chair. "It's me. Forgive me for walking in. Is Trenton here? His car is out front."

I turned to Trent, shocked at his stark fear. He had casually moved to put the counter between him and the door, and his alarm was hidden behind a professional smile. My mood went utterly black. He was afraid of her and her demon smut, too chicken to admit it openly.

"Back here, Ceri," I called, and the pretty elf breezed in, long white skirt flowing to a stop around her ankles when she saw Trent.

"Quen…," she breathed, her eyes fixed on him, the depth of her feelings painful to see. "Is Quen still alive? Please."

For the first time all day, my smile turned real. Seeing it, Ceri started to cry. Looking like a wronged angel, she wrapped her arms around herself as if letting go would cause her to fall apart. The tears flowed unchecked, making her more beautiful yet. "Thank you, God," she whispered, and Ivy leaned to hand her the tissue box.

My muscles protested as I rose, but Trent beat me to her, coming around the counter to touch her arm. Ceri's head jerked up, her tear-wet eyes a stunning green.

"Rachel saved him," he said, and I marveled at how good they looked together. Almost the same height, both had the same translucent hair and slim build. I glanced at Ivy for her opinion, and she shrugged, looking sour as she crossed her knees and leaned her chair back on two legs until it hit the wall.

Ceri pulled from him. The fear he was hiding hurt her more than an honest reaction would have. Her gaze flicked to me. "I knew Rachel would save him," she said, wiping her face and smiling.

Trent heard a rebuke whether it was there or not, and he stepped back. A thick animosity started to grow in me. Trent was scum. Absolutely pathetic. I didn't have time for him, and I wanted him out. I had too much to do. "You're welcome, Trent," I said bitterly. "Get out."

Trent balked. I knew he felt vulnerable without his lackeys, and I wondered why he had come alone. He backed up when Ivy rose to escort him out.

"Morgan, we need to talk," he said as he maneuvered out of Ivy's easy reach.

"We already talked," I said, the bitterness of frustration closing in. "I don't have time to talk again. I have to figure out how I'm going to keep every last person I care about alive through the night, and I only have six hours to do it. If you don't want to be demon fodder, I suggest you leave." I'm sorry, Marshal. I never should have said hello.

Ivy glanced at me for direction, and I shook my head. I didn't want her to touch him. Ivy had a lot of money, but Trent had better lawyers. Her lips pressed tightly, and she let her pupils widen to cow him into leaving. Trent rocked back a step, then gathered his courage, a dangerous look in his own expression.

Ignoring us, Ceri had gone to the stove to fill the kettle, as naturally as if there wasn't an argument going on. "You should trade names with Al," she said, knowing it would make Trent fear her all the more, but not seeming to care. She was proud of it, maybe.

"I tried that," I said, giving my scrying mirror another shove before I wrapped my hands around my warm coffee mug, enjoying how it felt on my fingers. "Al cut a deal. He's out on bail, and he'll kill me before his court date in the thirty-sixth. Year, that is."

Ceri's eyes were so vivid, so beautifully green behind her tears when she turned to me, glowing with the knowledge that Quen was still alive. Nothing could dampen her quiet joy. "You can still twist the curse," she said, a tightening of her jaw showing as she noticed Trent's horror that she could speak of such things so casually. "I told you I'd help you with it, and I will. All you need that you don't have is a focusing object from Al. The smut is almost nil. Nature doesn't give names, so it doesn't care if they are shifted."

I swallowed hard and gave her a grateful look. I hadn't known if she would still help me after I had condemned her for working for Al, and she smiled back, telling me that she was wise enough to set aside differences when real things were threatened. I had saved the man she loved, and she would help me save my family and friends.

Trent looked pale, and I gave him a steady look until his gaze dropped. Maybe now he understood why I did demon curses. No one else was going to save me, and I had to fight fire with fire. But then I went sober in the thought that maybe he had a reason for the things he did as well. Damn it, I was too busy to learn another freaking life lesson.

Ivy jerked into motion, startling all of us. Tense and fast, she pulled the trash out from under the sink and started rummaging.

"Uh, Ivy?" I said, embarrassed.

"Remember that hunk of hair you pulled out of Al?" she said, and I jumped up to elbow her out of the way.

"Rachel. Rachel, wait." Ceri pulled me to a stop. "That won't work. Al's hair isn't an accurate sample of his DNA. He's modified it from his original pattern."

Ivy shoved the can back under the sink, slamming the door with a loud bang. Her motions were tight with frustration as she put the taps on full and washed her hands. I fell back against the table, depressed. It would have been so easy. "I should have just killed him," I whispered, then jumped when Ceri touched my shoulder.

"You can't," she said, her voice diving to my core with a terrible certainty. "Newt is the only person who has ever managed to kill a demon, and it made her insane."

Sounds about right, I thought, pulling myself upright. Okay. Next option…

Ceri's grip on my shoulder tightened. "You can still do the curse," she said, bringing my head swinging around. "All you need is the sample, and I know where they keep them."

"What?" Ivy blurted.

Looking from me to Ivy, Ceri nodded. "There's a sample of Al's DNA in the archives. There's one for every demon and familiar. The only problem will be how to get it."

Trent's shoes ground into the salt on my floor, his face empty of emotion as he stood in my kitchen, ignored and about as wanted as a fifth wheel.

"Everyone is registered when they become a familiar," Ceri continued, oblivious to his sudden stillness. "They started the practice when Newt went insane and started killing demons. It was the only way to be sure who she really killed."

I looked at Ivy in the pixy-filled silence, hope flooding me. "Where?" I said. Sunset was going to get here really fast. "Where do they keep them?"

"On a patch of holy ground in the ever-after, to prevent them from being tampered with," she said. "I can draw you a map…."

They have holy ground in the ever-after? Pulse quickening, I looked to where I'd once kept my spell books, glad they were in the belfry where Trent couldn't see them. My gaze rose to my calling circle on the table. I had to talk to Minias.

"Ceri, would you help me barter with Minias?" I said, my voice high and sounding as if it was coming from outside of me. Trent's eyes were wide. I didn't care if he thought I dealt with demons. Apparently I did. "I must have something he wants," I said when she hesitated in confusion. "If he won't get the sample for me, he might give me a trip through the lines and I can get it myself."

"Rachel, no," Ceri protested, her loose hair swinging as she reached to take my hands. "This is not what I meant. You can't. You have two demon marks, and if you get a third, someone could trade for all three, and then they'd have you. You promised me you wouldn't go into the ever-after! It's not safe!"

Technically I hadn't, but she was scared, and I pulled out of her grip, surprised. "I'm sorry, Ceri. You're right. It's not safe, but not doing anything isn't safe either. And since the lives of everyone I care about are in the balance, I'm going proactive." I lurched forward, tension demanding I move.

"Wait." Ceri gracefully got in my way. She looked to Ivy for support, but the vampire was leaning against the counter with her ankles crossed, smiling helplessly.

"I have to do something!" I said, then hesitated at an alternative thought. "Trent!" I barked, and he jumped. "Do you have Lee's number?" He stared at me with his wide green eyes, looking odd, and I added, "I want him to teach me how to jump the lines. He knows how. I can learn." I fingered the charm around my neck, nervous. Before sunset. I had to learn before sunset. Damn, I was shaking. What kind of a runner was I?

"He doesn't know," Trent said, his voice distant. "I asked him when you freed him, and it turns out he was buying trips from Al."

"Damn it!" I exclaimed, then took a deep breath. How was I going to get in and out of the ever-after without racking up enough imbalance to make me easy pickings? And all before sunset, 'cause if I didn't do something tonight, Al would be hunting my family.

"I'll get you there," Trent said, and Ceri spun, putting her small white fingers to his mouth. Trent took it in his own hand, holding it, looking at me, not her.

Maybe I can figure out line tripping on my own, I thought, remembering Newt saying I didn't have enough time to figure it out, implying that I could. Time. Time! I didn't have time!

Then I paused when Trent's words hit me. I turned to see his face hard with determination and the fear in his gaze almost hidden. Ceri had dropped back from Trent, and she looked angry.

"I'll get you there and back, but you're taking me with you," he said, and Ceri hissed at him to be still.

I glanced at Ivy when Jenks landed on her shoulder and made her short hair billow with the wind from his wings. "Why?" I said, not believing this.

"I'll pay for it," he repeated, his feet solidly planted on the salt-dusted, faded linoleum. "I'll take the smut. For both of us."

"Trenton," Ceri pleaded. "You don't understand. There's more here than you know."

His eyes flicked to her, and his fear softened. "I understand I can do this. I need to. If I don't, I'll never learn how to live by the eleven percent." His gaze rose to mine, and there was a new light in them. "I'll pay for your trip there and back, but I'm going."

Making a puff of disbelief, I dropped back a step. Why was he doing this? To impress Ceri? "This is stupid," I said harshly. "Ceri, tell him this is stupid."

Trent faced me with his hair disarrayed and his jaw clenched, almost a different man. "I'll pay for your trip, but you are going to keep me alive while I get an elven sample."

My mouth dropped open and I blinked. Ceri fell from her tiptoes and backed away. A hand to her head, she turned her back on us, silent. From Ivy's shoulder, Jenks started to swear with a steady stream of half-heard curses. It was the only noise apart from the wind in the dry-leafed branches and the cheerful shrieks of his children at play.

"Elves were kept as familiars since before the start of the war," Trent said, putting a hand on Ceri's shoulder as she started to shake silently. "If there's a sample in the archives of an elf from over two thousand years ago, I want it."