Newt pressed the air from my lungs, and my mind shattered. I was everywhere and nowhere. The perfect disconnection of the line raced through me, making me exist in every line on the continent. Ivy! I thought again, starting to panic until I remembered her, fastening on her indomitable will and the tragedy of her desires. Ivy. I want to go to Ivy.
With a savage, jealous thought, Newt snapped my soul back together. Gasping, I covered my ears as a loud pop shook me. I fell forward, my elbows and knees smacking into gray tile. People screamed, and I heard the crash of metal. Papers flew, and someone shouted to call the I.S.
"Rachel!" Ivy cried.
I looked up past my falling hair to see I was in what looked like a hospital hallway. Ivy was sitting in an orange plastic chair, her eyes red and her cheeks blotchy, shock in her wide brown eyes. David was beside her, dirty and disheveled, Kisten's blood on his hands and chest. A phone rang and went unanswered.
"Hi," I said weakly, my arms starting to tremble. "Uh, could one of you maybe check me in? I don't feel so good."
Ivy stood, reaching out. I tipped forward. My cheek hit the tile. The last thing I remember was my hand touching hers.
Thirty-three
"Coming!" I called out, my pace quickening as I strode through the dusky sanctuary to the door, my snow boots thumping to leave small inverse divots of snow behind. The huge dinner bell that was our doorbell clanked again, and I picked up the pace. "I'm coming. Don't ring the bell again or the neighbors will call the I.S., for God's sake."
The reverberations were still echoing when I reached for the handle, the nylon of my coat making a sliding sound. My nose was cold and my fingers were frozen, the warmth of the church not having had enough time to warm them up. "David!" I exclaimed, opening the door to find him on the softly lit stoop.
"Hi, Rachel," he said, looking comfortably attractive with his glasses, long coat, thick stubble, and his cowboy hat dusted with snow. The bottle of wine in his hand helped. An older man stood beside him in a leather jacket and jeans. He was taller than David, and I eyed his lightly wrinkled but trim physique in question. A wisp of snow-white hair peeped from under his hat. There was a twig in his grip, unquestionably a symbolic offering for the solstice bonfire out back, and I realized he was a witch. David's old partner? I thought. A limo idled softly behind them, but I was guessing they had come in the blue four-door parked in front of it.
"Rachel," David said, drawing my gaze back to them. "This is Howard, my old partner."
"Pleased to meet you, Howard," I said, extending my hand.
"The pleasure is mine." Smiling, he slipped off a glove to extend a softly wrinkled, freckled hand. "David told me all about you, and I invited myself. I hope you don't mind."
"Not at all," I said earnestly. "The more, the merrier."
Howard pumped my hand up and down three times before releasing it. "I had to come," he said, green eyes glinting. "The chance to meet the woman who can outrun David and put up with his working style doesn't come along very often. You two did good with Saladan."
His voice was deeper than I expected, and the feeling of being evaluated strengthened. "Thank you," I said, mildly embarrassed. I shifted back from the doorway in invitation. "We're all back by the fire. Come on in. It's easier to go through the church than stumble through the garden the back way."
Howard slipped inside in a whiff of redwood while David knocked the snow from his boots. He hesitated, looking up at the new sign above the door. "Nice," he said. "Just get it?"
"Yeah." Mood going soft, I leaned out to look up at it. The deeply engraved brass plaque had been bolted to the front of the church above the door. It had come with a light, and the single bulb lit the stoop in a soft glow. "It's a solstice gift for Ivy and Jenks."
David made a sound of approval laced with understanding. I flicked my attention from him back to the sign. VAMPIRE CHARMS; LLC. TAMWOOD, JENKS, AND MORGAN. I loved it, and I hadn't minded paying extra to make it a rush order. Ivy's eyes had gotten very wide when I pulled her out on the stoop that afternoon to see it. I thought she was going to cry. I'd given her a hug right there on the landing as it was obvious she wanted to give me one but was afraid I'd take it the wrong way. She was my friend, damn it. I could hug her if I wanted.
"I'm hoping it helps stop the rumors about me being dead," I said, ushering him in. "The paper was really quick to print my obituary, but because I'm not a vamp, they won't put anything in the risen-again announcements unless I pay for it."
"Imagine that," David said. I could hear the laughter in his voice, and I gave him a dry look as he stomped his boots a final time and came in. "You look good for a dead witch."
"Thanks."
"Your hair is almost back to normal. How about the rest of you?"
I shut the door, flattered at the sound of concern in his voice. Howard stood in the middle of the sanctuary, his eyes ranging over Ivy's piano and my desk. "I'm doing okay," I said. "My stamina is shot, but it's coming back. My hair, though?" I tucked a curl of reddish-brown hair behind an ear and the soft knit hat my mother had given me that afternoon. "The box said it washes out in five shampoos," I said sourly. "I'm still waiting."
Somewhat peeved at the reminder of my hair, I led the way into the kitchen, the two men trailing behind. Actually, my hair was the least of my worries. Yesterday I had found a scar with a familiar circle-and-slash pattern on the arch of my left foot; Newt's claim of a favor. I owed two demons, but I was alive. I was alive and was no one's familiar. And finding the mark there had been better than waking up with a big N tattooed on my forehead.
David's steps faltered as he saw the plates of goodies laid out on the table. Ivy's workspace had been pushed into a three-by-three-foot section, the rest was full of cookies, fudge, cold cuts, and crackers. "Help yourself," I said, refusing to get worked up about things currently out of my control. "Do you want to nuke your wine before we go out?" I asked, eating a slice of salami. "I've got a pitcher to warm it up in." I could use my new charm, but it wasn't reliable, and I was tired of burning my tongue.
The clunk of the wine as it hit the table was loud. "You drink it warm?" David said, sounding appalled as he looked at the microwave.
"Ivy and Kisten do." Seeing the Were hesitate, I gave the pot of spiced cider on the stove a quick stir. "We can warm up half and put the rest in a snow bank if you want," I added.
"Sure," David said, his short fingers manipulating the foil-wrapped top.
Howard began filling a plate, but at David's pointed look, he started. "Mmmm!" the older witch said abruptly, plate in hand. "Mind if I go out back and introduce myself?" He wiggled the twig sandwiched between his hand and the foam plate in explanation. "I haven't been to a solstice burning in a long time."
A smile came over me. "Go right on out. The door is through the living room."
David and Howard exchanged another look, and the witch found his way. I heard a soft rise of voices in greeting as he opened the door. David exhaled slowly. Something was up.
"Rachel," he said. "I've got a paper for you to sign."
My smile froze. "What did I do?" I blurted. "Was it breaking Lee's car?"
"No," he said, and my chest tightened when his eyes dropped. Oh God. It must be bad.
"What is it?" I set the spoon in the sink and turned, gripping my elbows.
David unzipped his coat and pulled out a trifolded paper and handed it to me. Taking his bottle, he started to open it. "You don't have to sign it if you don't want to," he said, glancing at me from under his cowboy hat. "I won't be offended. Really. You can say no. It's okay."