I couldn't breathe. My lungs were starving for air, burning, but I couldn't make them expand. Stuck halfway between the memory and now, I hung, able to think, but not to do.
"Rachel!" Ivy shouted, and I felt a stinging smack across my cheek. "Wake up!"
Jenks's pixy wings clattered close, and his draft cooled my burning cheek. "Knock it off!" he exclaimed. "Hitting her isn't doing any good!"
Panic iced through me, but I couldn't move, paralyzed and running out of air.
"You let her invoke a deadly charm?" I heard Pierce say, his voice close.
"It wasn't supposed to be deadly!" Ivy snarled back. "It had already passed the lethal-amulet test. Something went wrong!"
"Kalamack crafted it? I opine that's what's wrong. He's just like his father. Sloppy."
"Look!" Jenks said. "It's still in her hands. Right there!"
My heart thudded, hurting for air; I felt shaking hands turn me over. Fingers wedged among mine, and pain shot through me. A moan I couldn't afford slipped past me.
"You're hurting her!" Nick exclaimed, completing the travesty.
"Better that than she suffocates," Ivy said. Then softer, she said, "I'm sorry, Rachel."
I clenched into myself, my head bursting in pain. Oh God. I was dying. I was going to die from a frigging elf charm. Break my fingers. Anything! The sharp tug on my fingers was a stab of agony, but I didn't think she broke anything as the smooth horsehair slipped from me.
Nick's voice was close and worried. "She's still not breathing."
"Tell us something we don't know, crap-for-brains!" Jenks exclaimed.
"Smack her again!" the thief said.
My hearing was going fuzzy, and the pain of the curse's imbalance was lost in the agony of suffocation. I couldn't think, but I felt the bed dip, and arms smelling of coal dust wrapped around me as my head thumped into a masculine chest. "Forgive me, mistress witch," I heard, and then a line burned through me.
I gasped, the involuntary reaction bringing a slip of air into me. It smelled like a meadow in the sun. Nausea rose and my heart gave a weak pound, but I still couldn't breathe. Somehow I managed to open my eyes. Pierce was holding me, Ivy standing helplessly, her eyes black and beautiful. "Do something!" Jenks shouted as he hovered close, and my eyes slipped shut.
"I am doing something," Pierce panted. "She took a breath." Smooth fingers turned my chin, and I heard Ivy say, "Trent cursed her?"
"I'm going to kill him. I'm gonna kill the son of a fairy's slug," Jenks vowed.
"It's not a curse. It's a misaligned spell. I'm going to try to burn it out," Pierce said.
I jerked again as a stronger pulse of line energy lighted through me. Almost, I got a second breath, but it wasn't enough, and my heart pounded, starved for air. I wasn't going to make it. Trent had won. Son of a bitch.
"She's turning blue," Nick said, whispering. "Do something. "
"Rachel!" Jenks shouted. "You stupid witch! What have you done!"
Pierce was shaking. "My God, how much line can you hold, mistress witch?"
"She can spindle it," Ivy said. "Give her everything you can handle, and then some."
It was as if light sparked through me. Pierce dove through my soul, reaching for a line through me and pulling it into himself. Gasping, my back arched and my eyes opened wide.
"You're killing her!" Jenks shouted, and I fell back into Pierce.
My arms moved, and my lungs expanded. Gulping the air so hard it hurt, I coughed.
"Catch them!" Jenks exclaimed, and my eyes flashed open as Ivy darted forward to catch Pierce and hold us both upright. His arms were still wrapped around me, and his head was beside mine. He was panting, lips parted and brow furrowed in pain. His breath came fast, and I could feel it on me, coming and going.
"I swan," he breathed. "You can hold a considerable amount of line, Rachel."
I shifted, and his eyes opened, finding mine. Something pinged through me again, painful in its exquisiteness. I recognized it, even as I tried to deny its existence. And I smiled, weak as a kitten as I rested in his arms. "Hi," I whispered so I wouldn't start coughing, concentrating on small, even breaths.
"Hi back at you," he said, the modern phrase sounding funny with his accent, and then Jenks was there, spilling a green dust and looking panicked.
"Rache, are you okay?" the pixy demanded. "Was it a curse? Trent tried to kill you?"
"Looks like it," I said, vowing to jam a curry brush down his throat the next time I saw him.
Jenks started swearing in one-word syllables. My thankful gaze went to Pierce. Damn, the man could hold a lot of energy. Maybe as much as me with a little stretching. And he was holding me. On my bed.
My expression became empty. I didn't have time for this, and it hurt too much when it was over. "Phone," I rasped, trying to untangle myself. The bed shifted as Ivy got off it, and the cooler air hit me when Pierce let go and moved to stand awkwardly beside me. "Where's my phone?" I asked, then remembered it was in San Francisco.
Nick's eyes were wide, and Jenks was spilling a red dust, but Ivy seemed to be thinking the same thing I was, and she handed me her cell. "Use mine."
"Tink's titties!" Jenks was saying, darting up and down, making me nauseous. "Rache, you're not calling him, are you?"
"Watch me." My fingers trembled as I punched in the numbers. I was so pissed. How dare he. How dare he give me a charm and try to kill me with it. Was this his backhanded way of threatening me? Do what he wanted or else? He hadn't changed at all from the brat of a boy demanding I hold his horse's head when there was a post only two feet away.
"Don't call him! He'll know it didn't work!" Jenks shouted, and I waved him back. The pixy's wings clattered noisily, but then went quiet. "You know his number by heart?"
Yes, I had Trent Kalamack's number memorized. Sort of like when you remember the name of the kid who beat you up in the third grade. Some things you don't forget.
"Quiet. I want to hear," Ivy demanded as the phone rang, and my anger tightened when Jenks landed on my shoulder. Together we listened to the line click open.
"Kalamack Industries," the woman said, but I couldn't tell if it was Sara Jane or if she'd gotten smart and run away. "How may I help you?"
A thousand smart-ass answers went through my head, but my eyes on Ivy's, I managed, "This is Rachel Morgan - "
"Yes, Ms. Morgan," she interrupted. "Mr. Kalamack has been waiting for your call."
"I'll bet," I said, but she'd already put me on hold. If there was elevator music, I was going to scream.
"Rachel!" Trent's voice came clear and clean, a hint of warmth to it that slid out of the professional into genuine pleasure.
"You son of a bastard!" I exclaimed, and Jenks snorted.
There was a slight hesitation, then, "I take it this isn't a social call?" Trent said dryly, his entire mood shifting.
How could he sit there like nothing had happened? "It didn't work, you bastard. I'm still alive, and you'd better start watching your back. I should have let you rot in the ever-after, you son of a bitch!"
"Still alive?"
I'd give him one thing. He hid his smugness well. "The Pandora charm?" I supplied to jiggle his conveniently faulty memory. "It was us riding your horse at camp. You're scum, Trent!"
"I didn't try to kill you. You fell off!" he said indignantly.
He thought I was talking about the memory? "Not the horse!" I said, suddenly unsure. "Your spell! It almost killed me. The memory ended with me lying on the ground with the breath knocked out of me, and it froze everything. I couldn't breathe when the charm ended. I could have died! If you can't have me, no one will, huh? What in hell is wrong with you!"
"Be reasonable, Rachel," Trent said coldly. "If I wanted you dead, I wouldn't do it with a charm I helped craft that could be traced back to me."
"I think you would!" I exclaimed. "You want me dead!"
"There are at least five people I can think of off the top of my head who want you dead."
"Wanting me dead is not the same as having the resources to do it" I reminded him.
I heard him take a breath to say something, then pause as if in sudden thought. "I have to go," he said abruptly. "You're okay? Right?" he asked, and I looked at Ivy, knowing she could hear both ends of the conversation as well as Jenks, on my shoulder.
He cared if I was all right? And he hadnt called Lee hack either when he knew I was afraid of him. "Don't you hang up on me, Trent," I said. "Don't you do it!"
"Good, you're okay. I'll talk to you later. I have to check on something. Ah, sorry about the charm."
My breath came in fast, and I sat up. "Trent!" I shouted, but the phone went dead. "He hung up on me," I said sourly, then flipped the phone closed and handed it to Ivy.
Jenks took off from my shoulder, and a shiver coursed through me. "That sounded like real surprise to me," he said, hovering before the tight-lipped vampire.
"Me, too," she said, looking worried as she leaned back against the dresser.
"Even so, I wouldn't trust him," Pierce said. "His father was a devious sort, and I've seen nothing to convince me he's any different."
"Yeah. I know." Exhaling, I pressed my knees together so no one would see them shake. Do I believe him, or not? God! Why can't it be simple just once? I had invoked the charm to figure out why my gut kept telling me there was something good about this guy, and I was more confused than before. I'd give anything to know Trent's thoughts just before he'd hung up. "That was a complete waste of time," I said softly.
"I don't care if Rynn complains," Ivy said dryly. "I'm going to kill Trent. Slowly."
Pierce was nodding his agreement, but my damned intuition had me clenching my jaw in doubt. Trent had killed people before, one right in front of me. And once he had pulled out a gun and shot me with a subjugation spell, the decision made and acted on in a second. It wasn't that Trent couldn't kill me, but if he was going to do it, it would be over and done within an hour of his decision. Not like this. This smacked of cowardice. It wasn't his style.
I rubbed my wrist where he had grabbed me, feeling it as if it had just been today. He'd violated my person to see if I was as dangerous as his father had warned him - and I had thrown him into a tree the next day, proving it. He was good and bad all at the same time. God, I hated Trent. Or maybe I just hated that I didn't know if I could trust him or not.
"I opine it wasn't a curse," Pierce said as I fingered the smooth rope. "It was a spell crafted to not cleanly break. Death by something designed as innocent so as not to invoke your lethal-charm amulet. Powerful tricky. But you didn't make a die of it, and that's what matters."
My eyes went to his, and Pierce dropped his attention to the hat in his hands, his ears going a faint red. "Thanks, Pierce," I said softly. "I owe you. Big."
Jenks snorted and Ivy sighed, making motions to try to leave. Sheesh, Pierce had pulled a line through me to burn the malfunctioning charm to nothing. No wonder he was embarrassed.
His eyes met mine. "It was what any decent man would do. You owe me nothing," he said, and Jenks groaned from the overdone drama. But Pierce had probably saved my life.
Orange dust falling from him, Jenks dropped to my knee. "Well, what did you remember?" he asked, wings going full tilt. "Hope it was worth dying for."
Ivy crossed her arms over her middle to look both aggressive and pensive. "This was my fault. I convinced her to try the charm, thinking it might tell her if she didn't trust Trent because of a grade-school tiff or because he's a bastard."
"I think we can safely answer that now," Pierce muttered, but I wasn't sure, and it made me angry.
"It was just something from the Make-a-Wish Camp," I said, and Jenks buzzed his wings for more, but I wasn't talking. I was remembering all sorts of things now. Stuff like Lee being trapped in the cistern for three days shortly afterward. He was half dead when they found him, suffering badly - apparently Trent had taken my advice with an overly aggressive vengeance. And Jasmine finding flowers on her pillow every morning in contrast to the fox scat I kept finding in my shoes. I'd thought it was cabin razzing, but now I wondered if it had been Trent trying to get his hoof pick back. My stuff kept going missing that year, invariably showing up a few days later in the cabin toilet. Uncomfortable, I swung my feet to the floor, and Jenks took off. "Yes, he's a bastard all right," I said softly, not meeting anyone's eyes.
"Tink's contractual hell, you still think he's telling the truth about the coven?" Jenks exclaimed at the whisper of doubt in my voice. "He just tried to kill you!"
"I know!" I shouted, and Jenks flew backward in surprise to Ivy. "Don't you think I know that? But I can't figure him out!"
"What's to figure out?" Nick said dryly. "He's a liar. He's always been a liar, and he will always be a liar."
Frustrated, I opened up the box and took out the hoof pick, looking at it like it was a puzzle box. "Trent was that same mix of ruthless bastard and sympathetic best friend at camp that he is now. And I think I helped make him that way. Apparently I won the bet, though."
I lifted the exquisite hoof pick and handed it to Pierce, figuring he'd be interested in it. I wondered if Trent sneaking in to take my ring last year was because I had stolen his pick. Maybe he wanted it back? He had given me my ring back - and not in my toilet.
Nick shook his head in warning and I gave him a mirthless smile as I rubbed my aching arms. It was as if my childhood fatigue had soaked back in and wasn't leaving. I was so messed up. And what was it with Trent's pattern of taking my stuff only to give it back?
Ivy picked up the empty plate and moved to the door. "Are you sure you're okay?"
"Yeah, you were blue, Rache," Jenks chimed in.
Flexing my fingers, I felt the lack of strength. Cripes, she'd almost broken them.
Without warning, a high-pitched barrage of near-ultrasonic pixy voices rose, shrill at the front of the church. In a flash of silver dust, Jenks darted out. My eyes touched on Pierce's, and he was gone as well, his feet thumping on the oak flooring to the front of the church. Ivy was a step behind, almost shoving Nick out of the way.
Eyes wide, I stared at Nick, jumping when I felt two people tap into the ley line out back. This wasn't pixy mischief. We were being attacked!
Pierce's voice rang out from the front of the church, and then a crash of glass. Shit. He was yelling in Latin.
In a spurt of motion, I got to my feet, pushing past Nick to reach the hallway. It was empty, but a heavy thump from the sanctuary filled me with dread. "Ivy?" My knees gave a hard twinge, and my run turned into a shuffle. Breathless, I came to a halt at the end of the hall, leaning on the open frame. The bright glare of late-morning sun spilled into the empty sanctuary, stripped ages ago to walls and a wooden floor. The light over the pool table was swinging, and my heart seemed to stop when I saw Ivy flat out beside her grand piano, face turned away and hair spread.
Pixies were a dangerous cloud surrounding Vivian and Pierce, both of them standing on broken colored glass. Vivian's produce-stained coat gave her some protection from pixy steel, but blood was about her face and neck where she'd been nicked. She didn't look too happy about it. A red haze glowed around her hands, growing darker as her fingers manipulated magic and her lips moved to give it strength. I had no doubt that it would be both white - and deadly.
Pierce was grappling with her, holding her wrists with a black-and-green glow hazing out from his entire body. I had no idea what he was doing, but his face was creased with strain. The scent of ozone was heavy, and the morning air drifted in, almost too cool for the pixies.
With a cry, Vivian kicked out to shove Pierce off her. Pierce hit the floor, seizing when his magic backlashed into him. Angry, Pierce tossed his hair from his eyes and looked up at the ugly smile of anticipation coming over Vivian, widening as she finished her charm and held it, a glowing ball of who knew what.
"Hey, Strawberry Shortcake!" I shouted, pushing myself upright.
Vivian's pretty lips parted, and swearing, she shifted her aim to me.
Crap. When would I ever learn?
"No!" Pierce shouted from the floor, and I dove for the pool table, hitting the floor hard as I skidded under it. Pixies scattered as the glowing ball skipped across the felt and exploded within the arrangement of TV and chairs for interviewing potential clients. The leather couch started to melt, sending the reek of burnt flesh into the air.
"Set a circle!" Pierce shouted again. "Get yourself safe!"
Does he think I'm stupid!. "Rhombus!" I exclaimed from under the table, my view of feet and legs useless. My protective circle sprang up through the slate over me, the smut-covered gold taking the hit as a second spell exploded against it and dripped evilly down the sides to pool on the floor like blood marking the rim of my circle.
And outside it, Ivy.
