"Pale Demon" - читать интересную книгу автора (Harrison Kim)

Nineteen

I stared at the closed door, hearing a muttered conversation behind it. “What do you mean, that’s not my mom?” I asked Ivy again, my voice hushed, and she shrugged.

“How would she know you’re here? You call her? I didn’t.”

No, I hadn’t, and I looked through the peephole to find her and Robbie discussing things. “She knows I’m somewhere in the city,” I said. “She’s crazy, not stupid, and the press probably knows where Trent is staying.”

“Rachel?” my mom called. “I want to talk to you before your trial, sweetie.”

Ivy shook her head. “She’s not swearing. And when has Robbie ever been happy to see you?”

I frowned, squinting through the peephole to try to see my mom better. Her shoes didn’t match her dress, and Robbie was still smiling. It was the last one that did it. “You’re right.” Raising my voice, I shouted, “Nice try! Go away!” I dropped down to my heels, feeling like the little goat who didn’t let the big bad wolf in to eat her.

“Is Trent there?” the man who wasn’t Robbie asked, his voice off.

Ivy leaned toward the door. “No,” she said belligerently. “Whatcha going to do about it?”

I smacked her shoulder with a huff, and she blinked innocently at me. The growing rim around her eyes vanished, and I backed up a step. “What did you tell them that for?”

“To hurry things up. I want to see the sunset over the bay this evening.”

I sighed, leaning to look out the peephole again, but I only got a glimpse of them, their heads clustered over a glowing ley-line amulet, before I flung myself away, pulling Ivy with me.

Her shout of protest was drowned out by a loud bang, and the heavy steel door burst inward, landing askew on the front couch in the lower living room.

“Holy crap!” I exclaimed, struggling to find my balance as I held Ivy’s arm. I reached for a ley line as the door frame smoked, but the energy source oozed through my mental fingers like slivers of broken mirror. It hurt, and I scrambled to fill my chi with the nasty stuff.

The smoke cleared, and I let go of Ivy when my mother and Robbie came in. It was obvious it wasn’t them, and I frowned when I recognized Wyatt and that young coven witch behind them. Son of a bitch, Trent had been right. They were going to try to off me.

“You!” I exclaimed, then yelped, ducking and trying to set a circle when Robbie pulled a small air gun from his jacket pocket and pointed it at me. Holy crap, they all had air pistols!

The circle around Ivy and me gave a hiccup and died. It just flickered and went out. Shocked, I just stood there as Ivy snatched the serving tray from the coffee table. The last of the crackers and cold cuts went flying as she pulled it up to intercept the splat ball. It hit with a ping of sound and a hiss of magic. Yellow foam bubbled, quickly turning black as the salt in the air interfered. Her lip curling in a sneer, Ivy threw the tray like a lopsided Frisbee at my not-mother.

Drawn gun dropping, my not-mother jumped out of the way, knocking into Robbie and ruining his aim. His splat-ball shot hit the ceiling. Trent was going to be ticked. The tray thunked into the wall and stuck, quivering. It would have broken a couple of ribs easily. Whatever was in those splat balls Robbie was shooting was nasty. Robbie, hell. It was Oliver. I could tell by the way he snarled and shouted, “Shoot them both!”

“Down!” Ivy hissed, jerking me up the steps into the upper living room and behind the couch.

“My circle didn’t hold!” I said, feeling betrayed as I took them in. There were four of them. Oliver looked like Robbie. That was probably Amanda posing as my mother, seeing that I recognized Wyatt with his steely brown eyes and stern expression, and the last geeky-looking witch—Leon, if I remembered the papers right.

“You couldn’t wait until tonight, huh?” I shouted, then ducked down behind the massive swivel TV that was almost a room divider. Yellow froth bubbled where Ivy and I had stood, and four new splatters outlined the angle of their reach. Ivy smelled of excited vampire as she crouched beside me, her eyes going blacker by the second. My bag was on the couch. There was nothing in it to help me anyway.

“I thought you said earth magic didn’t work on the coast,” Ivy said breathlessly, and I yanked her back down when I heard twin puffs of air.

“It generally doesn’t,” I said, running through my repertoire of magic tricks and coming up short. They had timed this perfectly. No wonder they hadn’t tried to kill me on the way. This was the only place I’d be helpless. “But they’re coven,” I said, eying the mass of black bubbles and trying to guess how long it took for the salt in the air to naturally break the charm. “You know, best of the best. All they need is for the charm to work long enough to get close enough to kill us.” I looked at her, starting to get worried as I listened to Oliver’s demands for us to come out. “How long does that take?”

“Three seconds if you’re not resisting,” she said grimly.

Yeah. That was about what I thought, too. Damn it, where was Pierce when I needed him? Mr. Black Magic Man would be helpful right about now.

The splats had stopped, and I wasn’t surprised when I heard Oliver say, “She’s not coming out. You go that way, and I’ll go the other.”

Ooh, they were going to split up. Bad life choice. I looked at Ivy, thinking we might be able to salvage something. “I’ll take the two guys. You take my mom and Robbie.”

Ivy’s focus became distant as she used her ears to place everyone. “No offense, Rachel,” she whispered, “but your mother is going down.”

I nodded, but Ivy was already moving, a scream coming from her as she dove over the spell-tainted carpet and back to the broken door. I rose, seeing her stand from a roll right in front of my shocked mother. Kicking at Wyatt, she backhanded my mom, sending her sliding into the wall beside the quivering tray. Amanda’s arms splayed awkwardly, and the gun slipped from her grip and hit the floor. Ivy snatched it up, grinning as she turned.

The men had scattered, the more levelheaded Wyatt going for the bathroom where he could get a better shot at me, the less experienced Leon diving into the kitchen to hide behind the eat-at peninsula. Oliver, seeing that gun in Ivy’s hand, dove for the kitchen as well.

“Hey!” I shouted, standing tall and then ducking to evade Wyatt’s shot. Oliver peeked above the counter, shooting wildly, almost hitting Ivy. Grimacing, she grabbed Amanda as the poor woman struggled to find her feet, still dazed from hitting the wall. Oliver’s next spell hit her square on. Amanda’s eyes widened, and then she slid into oblivion, her anger at Oliver dissolving into a spell-induced coma.

“Shoot her! Shoot the vampire!” Oliver demanded, and Wyatt peeked from around the bathroom door. His range wasn’t as wide as he probably liked, and he needed to expose himself if he wanted to get a good shot at me. But it wasn’t me he was aiming at, and I threw a vase at him. My eyes narrowed when it bounced off a quickly invoked circle and broke on the tile. Either he was used to the crappy lines here or he was using a familiar.

Peeved, Wyatt shot at me, and I ducked back, but it gave Ivy the second she needed to find cover. She was beautiful with adrenaline as she slid back to me, rocking to a crouched halt in the lee of the TV. “I got you something,” she said, smiling as she handed me Amanda’s gun, and my gaze darted to Amanda, out cold. The spell wasn’t breaking as fast as I thought it might. Must be strong stuff. I bet she’d be ticked for having been taken out by one of Oliver’s spells. Again.

“Thanks,” I said as I hefted the weapon, then squeezed off a couple of shots in the general direction of the kitchen and bath, just to let them know I had it. “Hey!” I shouted, still eying Amanda. “What you got in these splat balls, boys?” I asked. “Is Amanda going to be okay, or should we call a time-out?”

“Cover me!” Oliver screamed at Leon, and Ivy snickered at the young witch’s refusal. Just because you’re good at magic doesn’t mean you like to risk your life. Wyatt poked his head out, and I shot at him, the flash of his bubble deflecting it to the ceiling where it dripped to the carpet. It gave me an idea, and I aimed for the ceiling in the bathroom. Two quick puffs of air and there was an evil-looking, foaming mass hanging over the threshold and making a venomous stalactite. With any luck, it would drip on him.

“How come his magic is working?” Ivy asked.

I pressed deeper into the shelter of the TV. “He’s used to the lines here.” I wished I was. But in all fairness, his bubbles weren’t lasting long, either. Maybe that was the trick to it.

“Hey, Ivy,” I said, a sudden thought coursing through me. I couldn’t tap a line worth a damn, but I knew a spell that used just quick bursts instead of long, drawn-out pulls like a circle. Maybe if I kept spindling power, filtering it, as it were, I could do something. “I’ve got an idea,” I said, turning the gun over and opening the hopper.

Ivy’s confused expression softened to one of amusement as I shook a little yellow ball into my palm, clearly remembering our games in the graveyard where I deflected splat balls shot by Ivy and thrown by the pixies. All I needed was some ley-line energy and a focusing object. “But you can’t tap a line,” she protested as I jammed the hopper back into place and handed the gun to her.

“I can. I just can’t hold on to them for very long,” I said, shifting my shoulders as the broken energy seeped in, filling my chi and spilling over to be spindled in my head. My damp hair would stay flat, not giving me away. “Here, you take the gun, I’ll deflect what they shoot.” I didn’t need Pierce. We could do this together, like we always did. Relying on him had made me soft.

Ivy’s smile grew. “Ready?” she asked, ducking as a splat ball zipped inches over her.

I wasn’t, but she had already leapt into motion, the little pop-pop-pops of compressed air joining her howls as she made the jump to the broken door and propped it up to hide behind. I stood, the splat ball lightly held in my left hand. “Hey!” I shouted, and heads turned.

His eyes alight, Oliver shifted to aim at me. My heart pounded. Four puffs of air sounded loud, but my hand was moving already, the thumb and pinkie showing direction and distance, the three middle fingers giving my spell strength. “Iacio!” I shouted, feeling a drop in my chi.

My ley-line spell hit the splat ball headed toward Ivy, and the yellow plastic bounced as if hitting a wall, deflecting back to Wyatt. His eyes widened as he pulled back, and the ball vanished somewhere inside the bathroom. I could do this. It would work!

“Iacio!” I shouted again, and I bounced a second ball at Leon. The man ducked back behind the kitchen peninsula, his brown eyes wide in fear.

“Rhombus!” I shouted, and the two shots from Oliver simply hit my bubble as I ducked, not willing to trust it. The balls slowed, as if hitting cotton, then fell unbroken to the carpet.

“Rachel!” Ivy shouted, and I spun, hand raised to ward off Wyatt’s next shot. I didn’t have enough time for a spell, and my circle was sputtering out its existence. I dove for cover. His shot went wide as he pulled back too soon, ducking behind his own circle for an instant. Crap, this wasn’t working, but even as I prepped to deflect another charm, I watched the glob I put on the bathroom ceiling finally drip.

Wyatt jerked as the spell hit his head, reaching up to touch the cold spot, his expression shifting to alarm. His eyes met mine, and I stood, hearing Ivy shooting at Oliver and Leon. “Son of a bitch,” Wyatt said, hatred in the expression he directed at me, and then his eyes rolled back and he dropped.

Two down. At least until the charm broke from the salt in the air.

Grinning, I pulled heavily on the shattered lines, spindling energy that tasted like broken rock deep in me. Ivy was out of ammo, and she threw her gun down in disgust. Still, she didn’t hide behind the door, but boldly strode forward to the kitchen, beside me.

My brother’s thin face that Oliver wore was red and ugly as he stood in the kitchen and shot at me, backing up as I came forward. His eyes became more and more frightened and his shots wilder as I absorbed his magic in quickly invoked bubbles I took down as soon as his magic hit them. I felt like a demon, unstoppable, and a part of me was worried even as I enjoyed the sensation.

“Why won’t you die!” he yelled at me, and I backed him up past Leon. The young witch was crouched in the corner, his gun shaking. But Oliver still didn’t get it. Four coven members reduced to two, soon to be one, all because of a little more knowledge, and it wasn’t even black. I could spindle ley-line energy, and they couldn’t. It had made all the difference.

“You need to shut up,” I said, and feeling Ivy behind me, I swung my foot in a wide crescent kick. That Oliver still looked like my brother was going to be a bonus.

Oliver’s eyes widened, and his mouth opened in protest as he saw my foot coming. “No!” he managed, and then it connected with his jaw.

The shock reverberated up through my leg, and I jumped back, hopping on one foot as the other throbbed, the pain a sharp stab. This was exactly why I hadn’t used my fist, and I staggered. Ivy gripped my arm, and together we found our balance. “You really need to just shut up,” I whispered, my weight on my good foot as I looked down at Oliver, out cold and slumped into the cupboards. Spots of potion hissed and subsided, and I looked up to be sure there was nothing on the ceiling ready to drip on me. I felt drained, and I frowned as Ivy let me go.

My eyes went to Leon, pressed against the cupboards. Scared, he dropped his gun and kicked it across the tile toward us. Seemed like it was all over but for the lawsuits.

As Ivy smiled at the frightened witch, I crouched before Oliver, fingering the cord to the questionably legal ley-line charm that turned him into my brother. Expe-e-e-ensive. Giving it a yank, I broke the chain and tossed the amulet into the sink. The image of my brother wavered and shifted, and Oliver took shape, still out cold and drooling. I rose, wishing I had some zip strips. There was a red mark on his cheek, swelling already. Damn, my foot hurt.

“You going to be good?” Ivy asked Leon, and when he nodded, she sauntered out of the kitchen. I watched her, slightly concerned. She had taken care of herself yesterday and so wasn’t hungry, but fighting brought out the worst in her.

“Watch out for that dripping potion,” I warned her, and she dragged Wyatt onto the carpet before hoisting him up and dumping him unceremoniously next to Oliver. Amanda was next. At least I thought it was Amanda.

“What are you going to do to us?” Leon whispered, and my eyes flicked to his, holding his gaze. “We will be missed. You can’t just kill us.”

“My God, do you really think I want to kill you?” I said, disgusted, though chucking them out the window had occurred to me. They would just send assassins after us until I fled to the ever-after and everyone I ever knew was in jail. But he had brought up a good point. I had them. Now what?

“Why couldn’t you just leave me alone?” I said, irate. I slid aside to give Ivy more room as she pulled the image of my mother into the kitchen and let her slump over Wyatt. The woman’s eyes were twitching as the charm began to break. Oliver, too, was stirring, his wincing eyes shut as his fingers fluttered up and over his swelling cheek. Good. I had a few things to say to him. That the potions had lasted this long was a testimony to coven magic. Oliver might look stupid and slow, but he wasn’t. He was just backward as all hell.

“Do you have an anticharm for this?” I asked Leon, wanting to hurry things up.

He was still pressed into the corner, and his eyes darted to the front pocket of Wyatt’s jacket. “S-salt water,” he stammered.

“Thanks,” I said, gingerly searching the spelled witch until I found a couple of the little vials.

Only now did I take the amulet off my not-mother, smirking as the slightly chunky blond earth witch shimmered into existence. Yeah, it was Amanda. I flicked the top off a vial of salt water and dumped it on her. She came to, sputtering as she pushed herself off Oliver and sat with her back to the cupboards. Wyatt was next, glaring at me as soon as he could focus.

“If you move, I break your fingers,” I told the ley-line witch, then turned to Amanda, crouching to look in her eyes. “Hi, Amanda,” I mocked, and her lips moved, but she didn’t say anything, terrified. “Don’t worry,” I said as I straightened and backed up. “I’m not going to eat you. At least not today. If you make me go hide in the ever-after, I might have a different answer for you.”

Ivy silently handed me one of the two remaining guns before she took up a position near the wide entryway to the kitchen, blocking their exit and still having a good view of the hallway through the blown-off door. Her feet were spread wide, her hands were on her hips, and her eyes were dark. The fear and anger weren’t dissipating nearly fast enough. Sure, the coven was down, and we had their guns, but what was I supposed to do with them now? Trent would slap a forget curse on them. Pierce would probably want to give them to Al, seeing that those of their ilk had buried him alive. I wasn’t going to do either, and I was the one they called black. It just wasn’t fair. 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.