Black Magic Sanction
Chapter Twelve

 Kim Harrison

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My lungs seemed reluctant to rebound after I exhaled, and my breath came slowly as I sat at the small round coffeehouse table and waited for Pierce to return with a caffeine-and-sugar buzz. Jenks' tiny phone, on loan, was small in my fingers, and after making sure I hadn't missed Ivy's call, I tucked it in my bag, hesitated, then moved it to a back pocket. It was almost noon, and still no Ivy. I was worried. Jenks hadn't been happy about me leaving. Neither was I. Pierce accompanying me didn't make me feel better, especially since he was turning heads.
I was so tired. Even the picture of babies dressed up as fruit salad couldn't make me smile. Somehow we'd landed at Junior's place. Or Mark's, if I remembered properly. I'd been banned because of my shunning, but no one had given me a second look when I'd shuffled in, the heavy-magic detection amulet above the door buzzing a warning at my old-lady disguise. Mark knew me by sight, and without the charm, we would've been chased out.
Why a fruit salad? I mused, tilting my head to get my hair out of my eyes. I hadn't time to put it back in a bun, which sort of diluted the old-lady thing. But it was gray now, and I certainly acted old, walking slowly from my bruised knees. Rummaging in my bag, I took the lethal-spell and heavy-magic detection amulets from my key ring and moved them to my pocket instead in case I got summoned out at sundown.
My back was to the wall as I sat at the same table where I'd once had a conversation with a spoiled brat of a banshee and her husband the serial killer. Outside, my mom's big blue Buick shone in the bright spring sun. Yes, we should have parked it somewhere else, but to be honest, when I spotted Junior's I had all but screamed for Pierce to stop the car. He wasn't a good driver, unable to get his feet to work the brake and gas with any precision. I think I'd bruised his ego. He'd been somewhat cold since. Sor-r-r-r-r-ry.
I rubbed at my aching neck and smiled as I recalled his red-faced, benign cussing about jo-fired fife curs and strumpets. Gaze rising, I looked at the register where he was counting out exact change for our drinks, looking appalled by the cost. Mark was waiting impatiently, and our coffee was done and sitting at the pickup counter before the till was shut.
A sigh sifted through me, not all of it from my fatigue. Pierce looked charming in his vest, long duster, and hat, his softly waving hair almost to his shoulders. It made him look like a young Were as yet free of responsibilities. Tucking the folded receipt away, he went to get our drinks with the smooth grace of a vampire. Drinks in hand, he moved slowly, not trusting the plastic tops to keep them from spilling as he wove between the tables busy with noon customers - both breakfasting Inderlanders and lunching humans - avoiding all with the awareness of self that most witches have. It was strange watching Pierce. He was a quick study and had been among the living again long enough to pick up most things, but it was obvious he had trouble with some of the smaller stuff, like how to open a package of gum.
"Rachel," he said softly, eyes darting to mine before he placed a tall cup before me and sat at my elbow so that he could see the door as well. He looked confident but wary of the surrounding people. Furtive, maybe, as he tossed his hair from his eyes. He smelled good, too, a mix of redwood and clean hair. And he used black magic as if it were a breath mint.
"Thanks, Pierce." Gaze dropping, I took the lid off so I wouldn't have to taste plastic with my coffee. My eyes closed in bliss when the shot of caffeine laced with raspberry slipped down. "Oh, that's good," I breathed, eyes opening to see him smiling. "You remembered."
"Grande latte, double espresso, Italian blend, light on the froth, heavy on the cinnamon, with a shot of raspberry in it." Tilting his head, he added, Tm not accustomed to seeing you graced with wrinkles. It takes a body a moment."
Graced with wrinkles? Cant he just say old? I shrugged, embarrassed. "If I'd been thinking, I would have grabbed a disguise for you, too."
"You'd rather I be disguised?" he asked, and when I nodded, there was a soft pressure against me, as if something was rubbing my aura. My eyes widened when a sheet of ever-after flowed over Pierce, ebbing to nothing to show Tom Bansen. Same curling brown hair, same blue eyes, same slight build, same... everything.
"Uh, good," I said, uneasy at the reminder that Pierce was living his life out in another man's body, dead just long enough for his soul to depart. His posture, though, was Pierce's upright stance, and the slacks and vest, which were charming on Pierce, looked really odd on Tom. "You're a dead ringer for Tom."
Pierce flushed. "I am Tom Bansen, mistress witch. The trick is to look like myself."
That gave me the willies even more, and I hid my unease behind another sip. "Call me Rachel. We belong to the same demon, I think that entitles us to some informality."
He made a noise as he found a new way to sit. "To call a woman by her given name - "
"It makes you stick out," I said, starting to get peeved.
"It's powerfully disrespectful," he muttered, shaking his hand when his coffee spilled, squeezed from the cup when he took the lid off.
My eyes were on the bright sun on the street. "It's a rougher time, Pierce." Which I thought was weird. With all the conveniences and clean simplicity we lived in, people had lost a lot of polish. Sighing, I gazed up at the ceiling, glad no one had noticed Pierce changing. Few knew that the witch named Tom Bansen had been killed by a banshee and reanimated by Al to hold Pierce's soul only moments after Tom's last heartbeat. It was black magic in the extreme, and probably why Pierce's aura was now blacker than mine - among other things.
"Has Ms. Tamwood sent word?" Pierce asked intently, a weird mix of Tom and Pierce.
Another swallow of coffee, and the caffeine started to take hold. The cup warmed my hands, and I set it down. "No. I hope everything's okay. I'm about ready to leave her a voice message. Something doesn't feel right." Something more than you next to me instead ofjenks.
Pierce ran a hand under his hat to get his hair out of his eyes. "I'm sorry for you having to leave your diggings, but it's not safe, Rachel. The coven - "
"Yes, I know," I said angrily. The church had always been my safe haven, and it bothered me that it was now a place of danger. It bothered me a lot.
Leaning back, Pierce crossed his arms over his chest. "A body might begin to suspect that you don't like me. I'm only trying to see you safe."
His eyes were narrowed, and I sighed. "Pierce... ," I started, and he looked away. Save me from the tender male ego. "Can you put yourself in my shoes for a minute?" I asked, unable to keep the bitterness from my voice. "Wouldn't you be the smallest bit upset if an entire society told you that you weren't able to take care of yourself? And then your babysitter told you to leave the security that you spent a year making? That it wasn't adequate?"
"You think I'm a babysitter?" he said, clearly annoyed.
"And then you realize he's right?" I continued. "And if he's right about that, then maybe the rest of them are right, too, and you aren't able to take care of yourself at all?"
His eyes flicked back to mine, and his expression eased. "I'm not your babysitter."
My shoulders slumped, and I pushed my coffee away. "I don't know if I could have handled Vivian today," I said, depressed. "She's using white magic, and she's making it deadly and totally legal. Ivy and I managed at the grocery store, but some of that was luck." I flicked my gaze up, my heart clenching at the sorrow in his eyes. "You saved my butt. Saved Ivy." Taking a deep breath, I looked at him. "I can't thank you enough for that. I appreciate everything you did, but I don't want to be someone who needs help all the time."
I couldn't stand to look at him anymore, and my thoughts returned to the black Latin falling from him. Black magic had driven Vivian away, not me. Maybe I did need a babysitter.
Pierce resettled himself. "Al sent me to protect you," he said gruffly.
My head came up. His blue eyes were vivid as he looked at me as if he was trying to decide to say more. Past Tom's narrow face, I could see Pierce's determination, his soft confusion as he tried to fit in a world that had raced past him, and his frustration that he wasn't enough. "Is that why you stayed?" I asked. "You could have left."
"No."
My head hurt, and I looked away, but something inside me had felt the weight behind that one word. He had stayed, yes, but he used black magic with no shame, no reluctance. What was I doing here with him? This was a mistake, but what else could I do?
Chest tight, I looked over the coffeehouse noisy with conversation, only to jump when Jenks's phone rang. Ivy, I thought, then realized it was playing "Ave Maria." Maybe it was Matalina? When I flipped the lid, the name WARM FUZZY came up. Unsure, I tossed my hair from my face and thumbed the connection open. "Hello?"
"Hi, Rachel." Ivy's voice came clearly. "Don't tell me where you are. Are you okay?"
I blinked in surprise at Jenks's nickname for the vampire, then felt a ping of worry as I got her message that the phone might be compromised. "So far," I said, looking past Pierce to scan the tables to see ordinary people doing ordinary things. My hair started to prickle, as if we were being watched. "How's the arm?"
"Broken," she said simply. "By tomorrow, the cast will be hard enough to break heads." I went to say something, and she blurted out, "Rachel, I'm sorry. You can't go to Rynn's. I'm so angry I could rip someone's throat open."
Pierce frowned, and the feeling of a storm gathering tightened. "Why not?" I asked.
"He got a call from Brooke," she said sourly.
Slowly my shoulders fell. Crap on toast.
"The coven knows you have connections to him, and they asked him to turn you in."
"Nice," I whispered, and Pierce leaned closer, though I knew he had a spell to hear at any distance.
"Rynn isn't happy either," she finished tersely. "He's not going to turn you in, but if you show up on his doorstep, he can't fall back on plausible deniability. I'm sorry. They've got him by the short hairs. He can't risk the coven turning against him. He uses witch magic as much as any dead vampire. If you can take care of this without him, he'll back you, but if you show up, he has to hand you over. You want to meet somewhere?"
My hand went to my head, and I stared at the table. "No. I'm okay," I said softly. "Do you have David's number?"
"Uh," she said, hesitating.
I exhaled softly. "I'm not'calling David, am I."
"He's in Wyoming," Ivy said, apologetic. "The Were muckety-mucks pulled your alpha position into doubt, and he had to go and file the paperwork in person."
I glanced at Pierce, startled to see Tom. Never mess with a witch. Never. They fight with magic and red tape. David was probably upset, seeing as it was the new moon and he'd be at his personal ebb. The coven played hardball, chipping away at my support so I had nowhere to go. "So what do I have?" I asked, my caffeine rush not enough to keep me feeling good.
"lust whoever's with you. Meet me at Sharp's digs?"
She hadn't said Pierce, which meant she didn't like him or she really thought our conversation wasn't private. Sharp's digs had to be Eden Park's Twin Lakes Bridge, and I shook my head even though she couldn't see me. "No," I said, glancing at Pierce. "I'm fine, and I need you where I can fall back on you. Okay? And tell Jenks I'm sorry."
She was silent, and my eyes fell from Pierce. I could do worse than be on the run with a black-magic practitioner on loan from a demon. Rachel, you really can pick them. "Urn, if I don't call about three hours after sunset, will you call me?" I meant summon, and she knew it.
"How?" Ivy said, worry thick in her gray-silk voice. "I don't know how to do a summons. You want me to storm Trent's compound for Ceri or search the city for Keasley?"
"Don't do that," I said quickly. Keasley had vanished shortly after I'd found out who he was, and I didn't want to blow his cover. Going to Ceri would only give Trent the chance to wave his offer at me again, and I might be desperate enough to take it. Son-of-a-bitch elf. I didn't know any black witches who were still alive and out of jail. Except Lee, currently running Cincy's gambling cartel. I'd bet Pierce knew how to summon a demon, though.
My eyes shifted to his, and he reached for my free hand, cradling my bruised skin as if afraid to hurt me. "I won't allow them to take you again, but if they do, I'll follow you through hell. And if you should slip my grasp, I will summon you home."
Depressed, I pulled my hand from Pierce. A faint tingling seemed to slide from me, stretching between us until it broke with a snap that back-lashed to warm me. I shivered even as I stared at him. It hadn't been our chis naturally balancing out. It had been something else.
"Rachel, what do you want me to do?" Ivy asked, interrupting my thoughts.
Uneasy, my thoughts went to Ralph, sitting in the Alcatraz dining hall, showing me his lobotomy scar. From there, they went to my mom, two thousand miles away, but a mere jump from San Francisco. "If I'm in trouble, call my mom, okay?" I said, jaw clenching. "Tell her Al's summoning name. Tell her to be careful because it might be Al who shows up, not me."
"Rachel."
Her voice was worried, and the coffee churned in my gut. "I know," I whispered. "This feels wrong."
Her sigh was soft. "Take it slow. Be smart."
"You, too." Unable to bring myself to say good-bye, I hung up. Five minutes, eighteen seconds, I thought as I looked at the tiny screen. How could my life shift so much so fast?
"It will be okay," Pierce said, and I eyed him sourly, not sharing his enthusiasm.
"I feel weird," I said as I looked at the ceiling and the turning fan. "Empty, like I'm under a spotlight. I need to get some sleep."
"It's because you've been dislodged from your diggings, your friends cut out," Pierce said. "I meant it when I said I will follow you if you're summoned. I'll follow at full chisel, should even hell's dogs be at my heels."
He wasn't helping, but when I met his gaze, my words faltered. His eyes were the same, once I got past Tom's shorter lashes. My heart pounded, and I felt a quiver in me. I went to speak, and his smooth fingers touched mine, silencing me. I remembered him silhouetted in my front door, black magic still flickering at his fingertips, and then the miserable nights I'd fallen asleep clutching my pillow, aching for Kisten. Shit. I didn't want to do this again: I wouldn't.
"We need to talk, Pierce," I said, and his fingers slipped away.
The chimes above the door jingled. Pierce looked toward them, and my gaze followed his when his expression went to one of surprise. My heart pounded, and I stifled the urge to run. The heavy-magic detection amulet was glaring a bright red, and a tingle came from my pocket where I'd stashed my own version. It was Vivian, pushing ahead of her a small but perfectly proportioned woman with a bright green spring hat and six-inch boots, looking eighteen fresh with snappy green eyes and a saucy step.
"Crap," I whispered, and Pierce shifted to hide behind his paper cup.
"The strumpet has a new accomplice," Pierce whispered, eyes alight with the need to act. "We should've abandoned your mother's, uh, car elsewhere."
"I don't think the car gave us away," I said, hiding behind the advertisement for ordering bunny cakes for Easter. There were too many people in here. "We need to leave."
"She won't recognize us under our charms. Maybe it's of no circumstance."
I glanced over the innocent, unaware people as Vivian limped forward, my muscles slowly tightening. "All the charms in the world won't hide us if she's got a leprechaun."
Pierce choked, and adrenaline surged as I worried that his coughing would attract their attention. "A leprechaun?" he finally managed, hat down over his face. "One of the wee folk? Walking the streets? There with her?"
I nodded, my heart sinking. Damn, the coven had deep pockets, because Td bet every last one of Ivy's dollars sitting at the bottom of my bag that buying a wish was how Vivian found us. Even worse, I think I recognized the small woman.
Licking my lips, I grabbed my bag. "We're leaving through the kitchen," I said softly, but the soft snick of a safety going off made me freeze. Halfway to a stand, I looked up to find a dirty white cashmere coat between us and the door and Vivian smiling wickedly, one hand in her softly bulging pocket. Her hair was no longer slicked back but plain and straight, and her forehead had a new bruise. There was a rash on her neck that looked itchy. She'd been pixed.
Behind her, the leprechaun made a bunny-eared kiss-kiss at me. "There you be," she said, popping her green gum.
"Give me the bag," Vivian said tightly, her hand open but not extended for me to grab and do some damage. "Slowly."
Grimacing, I handed it to her and sank back down at the table.
"Good decision, Morgan." Vivian passed it to the leprechaun, then tossed two plastic-coated bands of charmed silver onto the table. "Make another one."
Pierce was still standing, his jaw clenched and a dangerous look in his eyes. Fear hit me - fear not for me, but for everyone else. He was way too free with the black magic. Damn it, couldn't we have had a standoff somewhere other than Junior's for once?
"Sit," Vivian said lightly, looking at Pierce. "Or I shoot her. With a bullet. Right in her gut. She'll be dead in twenty minutes. Understand?"
A faint sound of pixy wings rasped against my ear, the very familiarity of it catching my attention over the loud conversation. Jenks? My attention darted past Vivian to the front, and my breath caught. Nick was in the corner behind a New York Times. Our eyes met, and he winked. Jax was with him, waving enthusiastically and dusting an excited silver. Eyes wide, I pulled Pierce down into his chair. What is Nick doing here?
"Put them on," Vivian said as she stood over us, and I fingered the zip strip. I was really tired of these things. I could do something stupid and try to get it on Vivian instead of me, but I threaded my hand through the circle and ratcheted it closed. Ley lines weren't my forte, anyway. Lucky for me, my amulets still worked, and I retained the old lady look and the pain relief.
Pierce glared up at Vivian. I could feel him tensing, feel his chi beside mine glowing with ley-line power. If he put the strip on, he would be magically helpless. If he didn't, Vivian would shoot me. "Put it on," I said softly, and Pierce's eyes pinched at the corners.
"Rachel - ," he almost growled.
"Listen to her, Tom," Vivian said, and my breath caught. She thought Pierce was Tom?
Pierce, too, realized the power behind the understandable mistake. His motions rough, he put the loop over his wrist and tightened it.
The tension visibly left Vivian. "Better," she said. "I'll get a bonus for bringing you in, Bansen. Where have you been the last couple of months?"
Dead, I thought, eyes on my bag as my mind went first to the money, then my splat gun, and finally the scrying mirror I'd brought so I could talk Al into giving me my summoning name back. Might be hard to explain that last one.
"I'm surprised to see you with her," she continued, almost cocky now that she was the only one who could tap a ley line. "Politics makes strange bedfellows, huh?"
Pierce stayed silent, knowing his speech would give him away, but the leprechaun was eying him as if she knew. Vivian assessed Pierce's silence, then glanced around the coffeehouse before pulling out the last chair and sitting down.
Behind her, the leprechaun huffed for being ignored. "How about a wee coffee?" she said, standing with my bag tantalizingly close. The charms in my splat gun's hopper wouldn't care if I couldn't tap a line or not.
"I'm not your date," Vivian said, noting where my eyes were. "Get your own coffee."
"I dunna carry cash," she said, her small features bunched up, and she gracefully clambered up onto the nearest chair with a little hop, setting my bag well out of my reach.
"You just love digging holes, don't you," Vivian said to me as she leaned back, her hand finally coming out of her pocket to scratch at the welts on her neck. "The first sign of trouble, and you go to another shunned demon summoner. Smart, Rachel. Really smart. You're lucky he didn't turn you in himself. Word is, Tom knows your summoning name, too."
Pierce's expression didn't shift as he sat like a stone across from Vivian. "It would be wise for you to walk away, witch," he said, his words slow as he chose them carefully to try to sound like everyone else. "You will be beaten soundly."
Vivian looked at him curiously, but seemed utterly unworried. "Not even a circle stops a bullet at this range," she said confidently as she tugged a slim phone from an inner pocket and flipped it open. God, the thing was as thin as a credit card. "Come quietly, or you'll be in Alcatraz for so long that you won't be able to craft a love charm by the time you get out."
My face burned at what they were doing. They had no right.
Nick was at the counter ordering and flirting with one of the clerks. He was here to help, wasn't he? The leprechaun was watching me when my eyes came back, and I dropped my gaze, resolving to not look at Nick again.
"Give me my coin," she said to Vivian, still eying me. "I need it to get paid."
I made a sour face and said, "You bought a wish to find me? I'm flattered."
"I'll give you the coin when I'm done," Vivian said, rubbing her welts.
"I want a coffee, then," she demanded.
Vivian's face darkened. "Can it wait a moment?" she snapped. "I'm on the phone."
The leprechaun sneered at her, then turned to smile at me. "I be liking your hair the other way," she said, clearly recognizing me. "Hey, isn't this the same place - "
"Yeah," I interrupted her, then shouted, "Mark, when you have a chance, can we have a tall latte over here?" Mark raised his hand in acknowledgment, and I smiled. "There's some money in the bottom of the bag. Help yourself. My treat."
Vivian stretched between the tables to snatch the bag from the leprechaun even as she continued to talk to someone in soft tones. Her eyes widened at the stash, and I wasn't surprised when both the cash and my splat gun went into her pocket. Son of a bitch.
The leprechaun frowned as she fingered the five Vivian had left her. "So how did the wishes go?" she asked me as we waited.
I lifted a shoulder and let it fall. "I gave two away. I'm still digging myself out of the one I used."
She snorted. "Aye, it's a good thing you didn't spend them all. People have been known to die from too many wishes."
"You know one of the wee folk?" Pierce said, the awe in his voice making her beam.
"I let her go for the wish I used to get out of my I.S. contract," I admitted.
Pierce stared at me, aghast. "You accepted a wish from a felon leprechaun?" he asked, making my face warm and the leprechaun frown.
"It isn't like she's an ax murderer," I said. "Besides, the I.S. wanted me to leave." Jeez, look who was talking, Mr. Black Magic.
Pierce lapsed into a pensive silence, and Mark came forward, handing the leprechaun her coffee and looking at me as if trying to figure out how I knew his name. She needed to use two hands to manage it, but her smile was honest enough as she took it, giving him the five and telling him to keep the change.
"Did she really use a wish to find me?" I asked her, thinking how I could use a wish right about now.
"Aye." She took a large draft of her drink as if it were cold milk, not steaming coffee. "The wish is from the West Coast, but we'll honor it. Bitch of a loss on the exchange, though." She glanced at Pierce. "Do I know you?"
His eyes wide, Pierce shook his head violently. "No."
Vivian straightened, smiling as she confidently said, "I'll see you at baggage claim," and snapped her phone closed.
"You're not getting me through security," I said. "Shunned witches can't fly."
"Then it's a good thing it's a private jet."
I sighed, and the leprechaun put her cup down with a tap. "Me coin? I do have a life. I found Rachel Morgan for you. That's all you be wishing for. You want me to help you get her to the airport, that be another wish. And you don't have one."
Eyes fixed on me and Pierce, Vivian stood, drew a coin with a hole in it from her pocket, and handed it to the leprechaun. It looked exactly like Ivy's. The small woman slid from the oversize chair and took it. "You're welcome, chump," she said loudly, then walked to the front with her coffee, smiling beautifully up at the man who held the door for her as he came in.
Nick was sitting at his table. My heart beat faster. Adrenaline washed into me like a drug, and I felt the tingle of anticipation. Pierce eyed me, waiting for direction.
"Go," Vivian said as she gestured to the door, my bag tight in her grip and faded strawberry smears marring the once-perfection of her coat. Her neck was swollen and red, and there were circles under her eyes, making her a far cry from the self-assured, posh, professional coven member I'd first seen in the grocery store. Now she was dirty, tired, and determined. Nice to know I wasn't the only one having a bad week.
"You can't hold me, Vivian," I said with deceptive calm as my foot jiggled out of sight under the table. "You just can't. Soon as I get a good nap in, I'm gone. I don't care what you do to Tom here. He's not my favorite person."
A sifting of pixy dust landed on the table, and I wiped it away. Pierce noticed, and his expression changed as his eyes slowly went from the ceiling to the front of the shop. His breathing became paced and regular. Lovely, lovely adrenaline poured into me. When it wore off, I was going to hurt, but if I was lucky, Vivian would be hurting more.
"I said, get up," Vivian repeated, her hand again in the front pocket of her coat, and together Pierce and I stood. "There's a white van in the lot. Get into it. Leave your coffee here," she added, and Pierce bumped me as he set his down.
"Do you trust him?" Pierce whispered, his breath soft against my ear.
Nick? "No. But look at my choices." I swallowed hard. "Be prepared. He's inventive."
"He is a thief," Pierce said indignantly.
"Yep. He's a slimy little thief who knows how to survive."
I stumbled when Vivian gave me a shove. "Stop talking," she muttered. "Tom, you first through the door. Then her." But true to his nature, Pierce held the door for me when we reached it, glaring stiffly at Vivian from under the brim of his hat, daring her to protest.
"Bug! In my coffee!" exploded a high-pitched, disgusted voice.
I smiled, stopping in the threshold and turning in time to see Nick trip on nothing in his rush to show the clerk his coffee. The cup went flying, hitting Vivian's face in a black wash.
"Out," Pierce hissed, pushing me, but I half-turned, wanting to stay and see the show.
People had looked up, and everyone watched in noisy, shocked concern as Vivian pawed at her face. Nick was there, patting it as he apologized, but things got worse when a shimmer of pixy dust sifted down and Vivian suddenly couldn't open her eyes.
"Ooooh, that's going to hurt," I said, stumbling as Pierce snatched my bag from where Vivian had dropped it and pushed me out the door.
I jerked to a halt at the harsh-winged clatter of an excited pixy. "There's a bus leaving," Jax said breathlessly, inches from my nose. "Don't get on it."
"Get off me!" Vivian shouted, shoving Nick. Nick flew backward into the cold shelves with their cakes and imported waters, but his foot hooked Vivian's, and they both went down.
Pierce pulled me the rest of the way out the door. The cold sunshine hit me. There was the bus, and Pierce ran for it. "Stop the carriage!" he shouted as he waved my bag and ran. "Stop the bus!" he amended, and the bus's brakes hissed as the sliding door opened. They never stopped for me. How come they stopped for him?
I looked behind me at the uproar, then to my mom's car. There was a white van across the lot, and a beat-up Impala that I'd be willing to bet was Nick's. God, my knees hurt.
"Rachel!" Pierce demanded, one foot on the bus's stairs. "On the bus!"
His eyes were wild and beautiful, and though he looked like Tom, he was Pierce. "No," I said as I stumbled to him. "We're going with Nick."
In a flash, Pierce's brow furrowed, and his eyes narrowed. "I say we're getting on the bus. Don't be difficult. Get on the bus."
I jerked out of his grip, pissed. "Don't tell me what to do!" I shouted, pulling a strand of hair out of my mouth. "I'm going with Nick!"
The driver sighed heavily. "On or off, lady."
I gave him a nasty look. "Off," I said. "Get the hell out of here."
That did it. Pierce barely got out before the man slammed the door in our faces and gunned the big engine. "This is a mistake," Pierce groused loudly as I dragged him to the nearby Dumpster. "No wonder Al agreed to send me to watch you."
"Hey," I said hotly, "I got through my first twenty-six years without you. My life may be messed up, but I am alive. You died, remember?" But I jerked to a stop when we nearly ran into the leprechaun, a long-stemmed pipe in her teeth as she leaned against a pollution-stunted maple and waited for her ride.
Shit. Pleading for mercy with my eyes, I shoved a self-congratulatory Pierce in front of me to slip in the small space between the Dumpster and the privacy wall. Please, please, please.
"Shut up," I whispered as I snatched my bag back. Crap. Could I look any more stupid?
"She's going to tell her where we are," he whispered back, his breath on my neck warm. "Damn fool woman. I told you to get on the bus."
"And I told you to shut up!" Damn fool woman, indeed. But I hadn't seen the leprechaun there when I'd pulled Pierce off the bus.
The door to the coffee shop jingled, and I heard Vivian's heels clack on the pavement. Peeved, I pushed Pierce's cautioning hand off me and went on tiptoe to peek over the top, hiding behind an empty box smelling of coffee beans. Looking haggard, Vivian ran to my car, peeked in at the empty seats, then turned to the bus just now turning the corner.
"Is she on the bus?" she shouted at the leprechaun, and I pulled my head down, pressing my forehead against the cold metal. Not like this.
We were so close, I could hear the leprechaun suck on the wooden stem. "I saw her friend get on the bus," she said casually, and my eyes closed in relief.
Vivian swore, and I heard her run to her van. There was a harsh revving of the engine, a short squeak of tires, and she was gone. From the coffee shop, the door jingled, and two people came out, laughing at the excitement.
Pierce and I slowly edged out from around the Dumpster. Exhaling, I took my disguise amulet off, fluffing my hair as I tucked the amulet away. I looked at the small woman, now smiling at me as she smoked. "Thank you," I said earnestly, reaching forward and shaking her hand. It felt really small in mine, but strong. "If you ever need anything. Anything at all."
"Ah, it wasn't nothing," she said, nodding to Pierce's wonder. "You look like you need a break is all." She wedged open a pocket to show a handful of bills. "You dunna owe me anything. Once a leprechaun is given money, it's hers. All she got was some dried oak leaves." She laughed then, sounding like a delighted child. I found myself smiling, not begrudging her all three thousand. Ivy had deep pockets.
My head came up fast when the door to the coffeehouse jingled and Nick stumbled out. He had a wad of environmentally conscious brown napkins against his nose and Mark at his side. The kid was apologizing profusely, shoving a bag of something at him as Nick tried to get away. He never even looked at us as he wedged Mark's hand off him and staggered to his car.
Mark gave up, standing forlornly in his apron as Nick started his car and tilted his head back against the headrest to wait. Mark went back inside, his steps slow.
"I be thinking that's your ride," the leprechaun said, indicating Nick's rusty car with her pipe.
"Only because the fool woman wouldn't get on the bus," Pierce grumbled, and I gave him a dark look. Seeing it, Pierce took a loud, slow breath, then started across the lot to Nick, his head down and his hands in the pockets of his long wool duster.
It worked, I thought, but it could easily have gone another way. Knees shaky, I started to follow Pierce, hesitating when the leprechaun tapped her pipe against the Dumpster and said, "I'm not an oracle... "
"But," I prompted.
She looked up at me, fingering the money I'd told her to keep. "Trust your judgment, baby witch. No one else's. You've got good instincts for someone flakier than my mum's pie crust."
Pierce waited impatiently by the open door, Nick behind the wheel. "Rachel... "
My judgment sucks, I thought. She's got to be kidding.
The leprechaun's smile faded and her fingers left the money. "I never did say thank you for letting me go. I would have lost my accreditation. I don't do that stuff anymore. Illegal, I mean." Pierce made a pained noise, and she added, "Hey, you want a wish?"
My heart seemed to stop. A dozen thoughts flashed through my mind. Jenks and Matalina living forever. Me not on the run. Ivy's soul. "No. No, thank you." I looked at Pierce beside the open door, frantically motioning for me to get in. "Thanks. But I've got to go."
"No, really. Take it!" she said, holding out a coin with a hole in it. "You could use it."
I held my breath, staring at it. Slowly I smiled. "No thank you," I said softly. "Give it to someone who needs to learn a freaking life lesson. I'm done."
The woman's red hair glinted in the sun as she laughed. "Okay," she said, tucking it away. "Watch them," she warned. "Both of them. Neither one is thinking of anyone but himself... yet."
I kind of figured that, and I nodded. Feeling like I was in control for the first time in years, I walked slowly to Nick's car. My knees protested as I got in and slid to the middle of the long bench seat. Pierce got in after me and shut the door. It felt too close, but I didn't care.
"Hi," I said, looking at Nick smiling at me with his bloody nose, success making his eyes almost glint. "Does this thing move?"
"YouVe no idea, Rachel," he said, putting an arm behind my shoulder for the moment it took to back up. Nodding, I eyed the extra levers on the dash, imagining the canisters of NOS that would fit in the huge trunk this thing had.
Pierce leaned close to my ear as we found the exit. "You should have gotten on the bus."
"Why?" I said. Maybe it was the lack of sleep, or turning the leprechaun down, or just that I loved seeing a plan fall together even if it wasn't mine, but I was in a wonderful mood, sitting between two clever, dangerous men. "I don't trust him if that's what you're worried about," I said as we pulled out into traffic. "But you have to admit this is better than being on a plane to Alcatraz. Vivian wouldn't be after me if they had someone ready to summon me back. I'm good for a while."
Pierce made a low noise of disapproval deep in his chest, settling back into the seat and adjusting his hat low over his face as we drove deeper into the Hollows. "If you say so, mistress witch."