The Witch With No Name

Three

The gritty wind had rubbed the skin between my short boot and pants leg raw. I huddled closer to Ivy, trying to get into the lee of the stone, but the boulder wasn’t large enough. Ivy didn’t move as my weight shifted, and I twisted my leg almost under myself to hide it. It would be asleep in about three minutes, but the respite from the wind was worth it.

Ivy’s shallow breath came and went, her scent obvious under the choking burnt amber reek that permeated the ever-after. I listened for the clink of rock or sliding rubble that would mean a surface demon as I looked over the dry bed of the Ohio River and to the crumbled remains of the Hollows below. The sun was almost down, and the light was vanishing from the basilica’s steeple inch by slow inch. Elsewhere the shadows were already thick. Behind me where Cincinnati would be, things moved, howled, and hooted as the sun vanished.

Surface demons. The large circle I’d put around us would keep them at bay, but they were gathering. No one, not even Newt, stayed still on the surface after dark—and we’d been noticed.

The horizon was still bright, but directly overhead the sky was that peculiar ever-after shade of reddish black that reminded me of old blood. A tiny sliver of moon would set just after the sun, and it glowed an eerie silver. It was the only pure thing, but so distant as to depress rather than uplift.

Experience told me the wind might abate with the sunset, a prospect I both welcomed and dreaded. It got cold when the sun went down, and Ivy was suffering, drifting in and out of consciousness. We were both thirsty, but she’d never said a word, happy that I was here with her.

Vampires suck, I thought, not for the first time as I rested my head against her shoulder and closed my eyes against the upwelling grief. How had we gotten here, playing a deadly game of waiting where Ivy’s life hung in the chance between time and pixy wings?

Black traces of smut ran over the gold glow of my aura hazing my protection circle, arching like electricity between poles. The surface demons were gathering outside, not so patiently waiting for my circle to fall. One of them stood so his silhouette would be obvious against the darkening sky. He was taller than the rest, and the way he held his staff made me wonder if he was the same one Newt had tormented last summer in her calibration curse.

“You should go,” Ivy whispered, and I started, not having realized she was awake.

I tugged her coat closer around her, careful not to hurt her. “No,” I said simply, and she turned her black eyes to me, unblinking and catching the faint light from the sky.

“I’m going to die compromised,” she said, as if she were talking about cutting her hair. “Without medical intervention, I’ll wake hungry and incoherent. You should leave. I don’t want to hurt you.”

My thoughts flashed to the one time we’d tried to share blood. She’d mistakenly taken her feelings of love from it and had nearly killed me. I’d seen the beast of hunger in her before, and she hurt me because I would hurt her to stop it. “No,” I whispered, and she sighed.

Silent, I watched the tall surface demon elegantly swing his staff to drive another from his rock, and the smaller demon scuttled sideways. “Bis will be awake soon,” I said, but it sounded like a prayer even to me. Ivy wasn’t shivering anymore, scaring me. “It will be okay. Jenks went to get Bis. He can jump you right to Trent’s surgical suite. It won’t be long now.”

But I knew she heard the lie as well as I did.

“I’m sorry,” Ivy slurred, and a lump filled my throat. “I know you wanted things to be different.”

I stared ahead, trying not to blink. They weren’t going to make it here in time. Forcing a smile, I adjusted her blood-stained coat. “They’ll be here in a few minutes.”

“I’m scared.”

I eased closer, not liking the chill she had. “I’m not going anywhere.” Damn it, I didn’t have anything to help her. Nothing. She was going to die, and all I could do was hold her hand. The tears slipped down, cold in the chill wind. I didn’t bother to wipe them away. Sensing the end, the surface demon with the staff moved, easing down from his rock to hunch just outside the barrier. He looked like an Aborigine, wise, gaunt, and cautious where his kin were simply thin and hungry.

“Promise me you won’t be my scion. I want Nina to do it.”

Surprised, I stilled my hand against her hair. I’d thought she’d been sleeping. “Nina?” My voice had been bitter, and I couldn’t help but wonder if some of this was Nina’s fault. The young woman liked risks, was clever, and was in love with Ivy—and so addicted to the sensations that her master vampire could pull through her that she’d do just about anything to escape him even as she crawled back for more. If Ivy was an undead, she could claim Nina as her scion. At least that way, someone Nina loved would be abusing her instead of a half-mad, dying undead. Felix was insane from the sun already, and his children would soon be orphaned, vulnerable in the extreme unless another undead claimed them. No one would contest it.

“I can’t do that to you,” she said, and heartache filled me when I realized she was crying. “I don’t want you to spend the rest of your life trying to keep me from walking into the sun. If you can’t end my second life, then promise me that you’ll walk away. That you won’t try to help me. Understand that I’m lost.”

Throat tight, I held her close. “I promise,” I lied. The wind gusted and died, making the surface demon’s tattered clothes shift. “I shouldn’t have brought you here.”

“I’m feeling better,” she said, her breath becoming shallower. “Really.”

“That’s good,” I said, my hand moving against an unbloodied part of her hair. My throat was tight. She’d tried so hard to be the person she wanted to be. She’d given me friendship, kept me from pain, sacrificed her goals to keep me alive. And I couldn’t stop this. I couldn’t give her anything back. I could only hold her hand.

Maybe it’s enough, I thought miserably. The smallest things meant the world to her.

But then the head surface demon jerked straight. In a breath, he turned and vanished, rocks clinking to mark his passage. Another was an instant behind him. Tense, I pulled myself up, tasting the gritty night wind. Something had scared them off.

“Bis?” I whispered, the sound of my voice echoing back off the flat, rocky earth. But the sun was still up.

“I should have known,” a bitterly proud and slightly accented voice said. “How did you do it? Elf magic?”

My pulse thudded. Breath held, I sent my eyes searching. A soft glow blossomed, and I found him. Just outside my circle and between me and the ruins of Cincinnati, Al stood in a soft puddle of light. His velvet frock coat was elegant, and his stance sure. The glow leaking from the archaic lantern hardly made it past his silver-buckled shoes, but I knew it was all that could get through the thick layer of smut on his soul—and I knew it bothered him, for once he’d been able to light an amphitheater to bright noon.

“Do what?” I whispered, not moving—hardly breathing. Al had tried to kill me. Okay, he’d tried to kill me a couple of times, but this last time I think he’d really meant it.

“My line is no longer in that stinking puddle of water,” he said, nose wrinkled. “I came to find out why before the sun set. It was you?” Lip curling, he dusted a nearby boulder with a silk cloth and set the lantern down. “Trying to curry favor makes you weak.”

“Al …,” I breathed, and pain flashed across his face, ruddy from the setting sun.

“Do not call me that. My name is Gally.”

“Al, please,” I said again, carefully extricating myself from Ivy, hoping she would remain asleep. The heartache of his bitter abandonment hit me hard, my emotions already paper thin because of Ivy. I felt new tears threaten, hating them. “It was an accident. I was trying to …” My throat closed up. Ivy slumped behind me, but he wouldn’t help, and that hurt even more.

“Oh-h-h-h,” he said in mock distress. “Your sad, sad little friend is dying.”

He could save her with a word, but I remained silent, standing before him, hating his bitter callousness. He was better than this. I’d seen it in unguarded moments.

“You smell like carrion,” he said, nose wrinkled. Behind me Ivy stirred but didn’t wake. “Butterflies like carrion.” He paused as if in speculation. “No, that’s elf. I can smell the stink from here, even over the putrid reek of burnt amber.”

Nothing in him had changed. I knew it wouldn’t have. My finding love with Trent hadn’t hurt him this bad. I was a symptom, not the core of what brought this hatred out. The fear that he might kill Trent just to spite me was real, though, and I backed up a step.

“Silent?” He sniffed, looking disgusted. “Miracles do happen.”

Why is he still here? I heard the scrabbling of claws and I glanced at Ivy. “I could use your help,” I whispered, knowing he never would.

“Demons don’t help,” he said bitterly. “Demons torment. Can’t you tell the difference?”

“That’s not how I saw you.”

Al eyed the thin bands of smut crawling over the surface of my circle, his lips twisting in jealousy. “You did at first.”

“Because that’s all you showed me,” I shot back. I’d thought he’d understood me. I’d trusted him, and he’d turned his back on me because Trent was an elf, the same as the woman he’d once loved and hadn’t been brave enough to fight for. “What did I ever do to you?”

Al uncrossed his arms and leaned forward, anger shining from his eyes. “You hurt me!” he yelled, giving in and punching my circle.

With an inward rush of energy, my circle fell into him with a pop.

Not expecting it, Al lurched, his hat falling off as he stumbled back and caught his balance. I stared at him in shock as his hat rolled to a stop almost at my feet. There’d been an instant of connection between us, an undeniable spark. He looked just as surprised, his eyes wide in disbelief.

“H-how?” I stammered, then renewed the circle as claws scraped in the ugly red light.

His lips parted to show his blocky teeth. Al put a careful finger to my bubble. The black crawled to him, and when he touched it, my circle fell.

“Stop that!” I shouted, heart pounding as I set it anew, but he was already across it and in here with me. Something was wrong. He’d broken my circle, and he hadn’t even tried.

“That little bitch!” Al shouted, and Ivy stirred.

I gasped as Al strode to me, halting with an unexpected shortness when I raised my hand in threat. “She changed your soul, yes?” the demon demanded, fidgeting and so close I could smell the smoke from his fire on him. “Newt changed it so that puking elf goddess couldn’t find you by your aura?”

I nodded, not breathing until he took three steps back. Okay, he was pissed, but he wasn’t choking me.

“The crazy bitch changed your aura to mimic mine!”

My mouth dropped open. Horrified, I looked at my circle. Jenks had said my aura was different, but he never said it looked like Al’s! But then, mine wasn’t covered in as much smut and probably looked brighter. That’s why the demon had been able to drop my circle with a touch. Great. Now I had nothing to block his spells with!

“She patterned your new aura after mine. The bitch!” Al wasn’t looking at me, hands on his hips as he watched the surface demons throw rocks at the lantern he’d left behind until it shattered and Al’s globe of light rolled in the dust. “That’s how you were able to move my line.”

“But why?” Had it been the crazy demon’s perverted attempt at a joke? Or maybe she thought it would bring us back together. But then a new thought sparked through me. “If our auras are the same, then Treble can teach me how to jump the lines.”

Al spun, coattails furling. Expression hard, he pointed a finger at me. “I share my soul resonance with no one!”

My skin was prickling. He was pulling on the line, gathering energy to him. Our eyes met, and he grimaced when he realized I could feel it. He took a breath, and frantic, I dove for cover. “Knock it off!” I shouted as a ball of black-tinted energy exploded against the ground, peppering me with bits of rock. “It wasn’t my idea!” I added, scrabbling to my feet.

But he was already deep in a chant, a glowing mass of forced power stretching between his fingers. Crap on toast. He was using old battle magic. “Al!” I protested, then stiffened when Al’s lantern light rolled into my circle and it fell with the sensation of sparkling tingles.

“Ivy,” I whispered, turning to see a surface demon creeping to her.

“Son of a bitch,” I muttered. Ignoring Al, I dove for her. Howling, I pulled a massive wave of energy from the line. Al lurched to get out of my way, his goat-slitted eyes wide when I threw the unfocused energy at the surface demon instead of him. The surface demon skittered back, scuttling away with an evil chatter.

“And don’t come back!” I shouted, shaking as I reinstated the circle. “Or I’ll give you more of the same!”

My skin prickled. I spun back to Al. But the demon wasn’t even looking at me. Relieved, I turned to Ivy, seeing her eyes black and beautiful. “You okay?” I asked her, and she smiled.

“I’ll miss watching you work,” she said, more alive than I’d seen her in two hours.

Pissed, I pulled the hair out of my mouth and glared at Al. “You’re a prick for standing there when I need help, you know that?” I said, then ducked as something flew over my head.

“Rachel!” Bis called, the cat-size gargoyle winging in a tight circle to drop down onto the rock Ivy was slumped against. “Jenks said you were going to walk to the church. Hold on. I’ll be right back. Trent’s at the wrong line.”

Trent? I took an elated breath, but the little guy was gone. The sun had gone down unnoticed, and his pebbly black skin was hard to see against the night. I’d hardly recognized him before he’d vanished.

My knees were shaking, and I turned to find Al was gone. Coward. “You left me!” I shouted. “And I can love anyone I want!” I added, but there was no one there but Ivy to hear me.

“Son of a bastard,” I muttered, hope a quick flash as a figure stepped from nothing in the soft sound of displaced air. There was the quick pulse of leather wings, and Bis was gone again.

“Nina!” I had expected Trent, but it was Nina, the athletic woman in her classy dress suit and black nylons bolting to Ivy with a vampiric quickness despite her high heels.

“You’ve been here for hours!” Nina exclaimed, black eyes angry as she fell to kneel before Ivy and covered her with her jacket. “Why didn’t you give her any blood?”

It hurt when she said it like that. “She doesn’t want any,” I said, my relief overwhelming.

Ivy pushed weakly at Nina, eyes slipping shut. “No. I’m okay. Rachel did what I asked.”

“She doesn’t want blood. Stop forcing her,” I said.

Hunched over Ivy, making her Hispanic elegance into a frightening shadow, Nina all but hissed, “This is what she is. What she wants means nothing when it comes to keeping her alive.”

But if she quit striving for who she wanted to be, Ivy might as well be dead.

I took a breath to tell Nina to back off, startled when Bis jumped back into existence. The little gargoyle was on Trent’s shoulder, and he immediately popped back across the lines, for Jenks, probably.

Thank you, God. Trent shuddered as the stink of burnt amber filled his lungs, and something flip-flopped in me. My eyes darted to where Al had last been to be sure he was gone. Trent was here. I didn’t have to do this alone. He wouldn’t let Ivy die. We’d be in time.

“Rachel.” Trent’s usual slacks and dress shirt looked out of place, sheened with red from the glow in the sky. His dress shoes slipped on the dust, and he caught his balance effortlessly. His pace crossing the dust was fast, and his eyes were quick. Sunset, even in the ever-after, was truly his best time. “Thank God you’re all right. Jenks told me what happened. Is Ivy okay?”

“She’s hurt bad,” I said as he reached me. Nina was trying to get her pearl button undone from a silk cuff, but Ivy wouldn’t let her, insistently promising she was okay. “She’s got internal injuries and a concussion.” I hesitated, surprised at the sudden lump in my throat. “I probably shouldn’t have moved her, but I had to get to a line …”

“Why the hell am I always last!” Jenks complained, joining us in a bright flash of pixy dust. His bright sparkle sifted down like a temporary sunbeam over Ivy, making her smile and lift her hand to give him a place to land. She was whispering to Jenks, comforting him when it should have been the other way around.

Bis landed on the rock above them, clearly anxious to start jumping us out. His lion-tufted tail wrapped around his feet, looking both submissive and protective—dangerous even as the white tufts on his ears made him cute.

We had to go—but I nearly lost it when Trent pulled me close, smelling of green things and spice, his touch real and loving, reminding me of everything I wanted but was afraid to call my own. Suddenly I was fighting the urge to cry as fingers strong from pulling in unruly horses and tapping out keyboard commands gentled me closer. I’d had to keep it together, and now there was someone to help. Ivy was going to make it. She’d make it! She had to.

“You did the right thing,” Trent whispered, the deep understanding in his voice bringing my defenses down. I’d never have expected it a year ago, but now … after seeing him lose everything to follow his heart, I could. I could accept his comfort, show my vulnerability—even if it might not last. The undeniable truth was, he was meant for better things than me. One day Ellasbeth would have him, and I’d be left with the memory of who he had wanted to be.

“Rachel?”

But I’d be damned if I didn’t take what I could of the time we had. Catching my tears, I wiped my face, giving Trent a thankful smile as I pulled back and looked for Bis. The little gargoyle had his wings draped around him, looking like a devil himself. “Bis? Can you jump her to Trent’s?”

“Not until I give her some blood!” Giving up on her sleeve, Nina used her little teeth to rip the button off. “She can’t be moved yet,” the living vampire said as she pushed her sleeve up. Her naturally dark skin showed the scars even in the dim light, and her panic at finding Ivy this close to death obvious. “I can’t believe you let her sit here on the cold ground!”

“Easy,” Trent said when I stiffened, and he lifted my chin, reading the strain I’d lived with for the last few hours, the fear. “Why is it harder when those we love are in danger than when it’s just us?” he whispered, and I blinked fast. I wasn’t going to cry, damn it. I wasn’t!

“No,” Ivy said again, her eyes black as she found Nina’s. “No,” she said more stridently, and Nina hunched over her, aching with her need to help her.

“Ivy, sweetheart, please. Let me make you stronger so we can move you.”

Bis waited, wings half open, unsure and unwilling to do anything that might hurt Ivy. Trent, though, was grimacing. He knew it for the lie it was as well as I. Oh, I was sure blood would help stabilize her, but it would be an unredeemable step backward, back to where Nina, in all her expensive perfume and trendy clothes, was—back to where Ivy was striving to pull Nina from despite Nina’s assurances that she wasn’t allowing Felix into her mind anymore. The clever woman was too in control most days not to be.

“No.” Ivy’s voice was stronger. “No blood. Not like this. I’d rather die twice.”

“But, Ivy …,” Nina protested, breaking off when Ivy fumbled to pull Nina’s sleeve down and kissed her fingertips. Frustrated, Nina knelt over Ivy. “It doesn’t have to be this hard!” she begged, but Ivy only smiled lovingly, feeling good that she’d resisted, that she’d won again for another day. “Why do you do this to yourself?”

I turned away as Ivy patted Nina’s back, comforting her. In Ivy’s eyes, Nina was the one who needed help.

“Bis. Go. My surgical staff is waiting,” Trent said, and the gargoyle awkwardly hopped from the rock. “We need to get out of here before the surface demons find us.”

“Too late.” My eyes lifted to the surrounding rocks, glad they hadn’t shown themselves yet as they evaluated the threat Nina and Trent might be.

“I thought so.” Trent sighed, turning to watch my back. “I’m sorry about the church.”

“My church? What’s wrong with the church?”

Jenks’s blur of wings shone against Trent’s fair, almost transparent hair, glowing red as it picked up the red ever-after dust. “The pixy-piss vampires have overrun it,” he almost snarled. “Stinking up the place and stomping everything like fairy maggots looking for spiders. They thought you might jump to the line in the garden, and they’ve got enough manpower there to make Piscary puke—if the putrid pus pile of vampire piss were still alive.”

Ivy chuckled, the laugh choking off in a pained sound making Nina’s eyes go black again. Bis carefully reached a clawed foot out to touch her, and when Bis and Ivy winked out of the ever-after, the tight knot around my gut finally began to ease.

Nina hunched over the space Ivy had been in for a moment before rising to lean dejectedly against the rock. Slowly her expression changed as she realized where she was. Tension wound through her, turning her from uneasy to a threatening shadow, smeared red with the remaining light in the sky. When I’d first met Nina, she’d been lively and eager for anything new. Now, after almost a year under a failing master’s warped attention, she was still looking for thrills, but she was also twitchy and unpredictable—her jealousy of any attention I might show Ivy becoming increasingly violent. I didn’t believe for a second that Felix was ignoring her, but every time I brought it up, Ivy got mad, wanting her happy lie rather than the inconvenient truth.

“Word got out you were finding undead souls,” Trent said softly.

“That’s not true!” I exclaimed, but he was nodding as if already knowing it.

“Even so, every undead vampire in the city now believes you can,” he added. “Especially after what happened last July. In their minds, they don’t understand why you haven’t done it.”

No wonder they were camped out at my church. “I don’t think you can tie a soul to a mind when the body is dead,” I said. “That’s why souls leave after the first death.” I was tired, but I didn’t dare relax, and I strained for any clink of rock, any sliding of dust.

“They don’t want to believe that.” Trent cupped my elbow. Tingles spread from there to the small of my back where his other hand had gone to pull me closer to him. “We’ll figure this out. I’m not entirely penniless, you know.”

That he was there to help without my asking was a guilty relief, but I didn’t know how he could. He’d lost almost everything in discrediting the truth of his illegal manufacture of genetic medicines and the very drug that the vampires depended upon for survival. It didn’t sit well that both the vampires and the elves had gone after him because of me, and I bowed my head when I realized I’d done the same thing to Al, bankrupting the demon before he’d had enough and left. I was an albatross, pulling down those who meant the most to me. Maybe I should leave before I brought Trent down, too.

Trent’s arms were around me, but I couldn’t speak, unwilling to breathe in his clean scent and feel the whisper of wild magic that sometimes rose from him like aftershave. But the guilt of him losing almost everything because of me was a sharp, insistent thorn.

“He still cares for you,” Trent said, and I looked up, confused. “Al, I mean. He was here, wasn’t he?”

Oh. That. Grimacing, I turned in Trent’s arms, feeling his grip ease as I looked at Al’s line, knocked off its path by my desperate pull on it. Al’s jealousy wasn’t born of affection, but from a weird kinship and maybe a little envy. I’d stood against the demons to keep who I loved, and Al had worked within the shadows of their hatred for a thousand years for the same reason, ultimately failing. He was bitter. “How can you tell?”

Smiling, Trent tucked a gritty strand of hair behind my ear. “You have that ‘I yelled at someone who deserves it’ look. He’ll come around.”

Sour, I bobbed my head and pulled entirely from him. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

Bis jumped back in, and Jenks yelped, taking to the air and dodging the winged gargoyle until the bigger flier snagged him. “I’m going last!” Jenks protested. “I’m going last with Rachel, you overgrown worm!” And then he was gone. It was just me, Nina, and Trent.

The scrape of wood on rock jerked my eyes to a surface demon, its gaunt shadow rising up black against the still-darkening horizon. And the surface demons, I thought, setting up a new protection circle and wondering if it was too late.

Behind me, a rock clinked. Slowly Trent moved to put his back to mine.

Yep, it was.

“Rachel?” The air tingled at the pull Trent drew on the ley line.

“There,” I said, flicking a tiny pop of energy at a swiftly moving shadow. Shit, there were two of them in here. Heart pounding, I turned to the first. “Detrudo!” I shouted, and he pinwheeled back, crashing into the inside of my circle. His staff lay on the dirt, and I ran forward, scooping it up before running back to Trent.

Hissing, the larger surface demon jumped from rock to rock, looking alien as he circled us. Nina was white faced, pressed up against that rock, and I beckoned to her. Scared, she inched closer, but she was moving too slowly, and there was a demon creeping up behind her.

“Nina! Get down!” I shouted, leaping to get between them. Without thought, I pulled on the line, sending it from my chi to my hand, condensing it as it took fewer and fewer pathways until it finally reached my fingertips and ran down the staff. “Dilatare!” I shouted as it exploded from the end, the rod acting like a rifle bore to focus it into a finite point that slammed into the surface demon with a thunderous ache of release.

Nina screamed as she dropped, the burst of light showing surface demons doing cartwheels into the rocks and pebbles. The shock echoed back up my arm, and the staff fell from my senseless fingers. Shaking, I looked at it, wondering what the thing was made of.

And still … a hunched shadow found its feet, not giving up as it began to creep forward again, low to the ground and hissing.

Slow with surprise, Trent helped Nina up before coming to stand beside me. His jaw was set, and he looked fantastic, eyes bright and a glow of magic about his hands. Seeing him as he wanted to be, not the careful businessman he was so good at being and that others had forced on him, I felt my heart swell. I’d had something to do with it, and I was proud of him for finding the courage to be what he wanted. Why can’t it last? I thought, aching.

“Together?” I said, and Trend nodded, eager to blend our strengths into one. I quashed the fear that Al was watching. If he’d known Trent was here, he’d be trying to kill him.

Pale, Nina scooped up the staff, holding it inexpertly. My hand found Trent’s, and my breath came fast as his energies mixed with mine like shades of gold twining together. The rank taint of burnt amber eased, overpowered by the clean scent of grass and trees and sweet wine. My chin rose. This wasn’t wrong. I didn’t care that the demons and elves said it was. This wasn’t wrong!

The surface demon hissed, his ragged clothes hanging like a tattered aura. He hunched, preparing to jump, and Trent and I gathered our power.

“Now!” I shouted, exhilarated as our joined energies wound together and struck the demon, sending it rolling back into the darkness. Trent’s eyes were alight, his hair almost floating as he inhaled, bringing with it a wash of sparkles through me. My God, it was almost better than sex with the man.

Nina’s scream iced through me, and we spun. The second demon was on her, the staff the only thing keeping it from her neck. Snarling, the twisted form fought to wrench the staff away. My heart thudded. I reached out, fingertips aching as I made a fist, unable to use my magic for fear of hitting her. “Nina, get him off you!” I shouted. “Let him have the stupid staff!”

But she couldn’t let go, afraid. Her gasping breaths cut through the air, and I jumped when Trent blasted the first surface demon behind us. Jaw clenched, I ran for her, feeling as if my hand sank into the demon when I reached for it.

It screamed at my touch, and I stumbled back, ripping it off her as I fell on my butt.

It didn’t do much good, as the age-twisted thing went right back at her.

“Oh God!” Nina cried, and then both surface demons were on her, smelling the blood.

Son of a bitch! I stared, flat on my ass, aghast and panicking as they covered her. I could not go back to Ivy and tell her Nina died in the ever-after.

“Trent!” I shouted, head hurting as I pulled in a massive amount of ever-after. This was going to end right now.

“Get! Off!” Nina thundered, and I froze, halfway to her, when first one, then the other surface demon flew through the red-tinted air to land in the rock-strewn shadows.

Someone touched me, and I jerked, pulling my energies back when I saw Trent. “Trent …,” I started, words failing when I realized he was dragging me away from Nina.

My eyes darted to her, and my mouth went dry.

I didn’t think it was just Nina anymore.

She’d rolled to her feet, hands still holding that staff as she hunched into a ball and bared her teeth at the surface demons still shaking off the fall. Her eyes flicked to Trent and me, and I shuddered as I recognized the second presence smothering her psyche. It was Felix. And it had happened far too fast.

In a smooth, unhurried motion, Nina rose, her feet placed wide to bind the skirt about her knees. An almost visible charismatic power spilled from her in the new dark. Black eyes glinting, she whirled the staff in a dangerous arc, making it smack into the earth in a clear threat.

Anger tightened my resolve, and I pulled myself straight. Nina had lied. She had outright lied to Ivy, telling her she’d made a break from Felix. There was no way the master vampire would’ve known she was in danger if she hadn’t already had him in her, balancing her emotions and soaking in her thoughts of sunlight and love.

From the darkness, a surface demon hissed.

Trent spun, his shoes grinding the grit as his magic tugged at my energies. The smaller demon was running at her, Nina screaming at it, egging it on, whirling the staff again as if it were a sword.

But it never reached her as that second, larger surface demon plowed into the first.

“Look out!” I cried, pulling Trent back as the demons rolled in the dirt, grappling, hissing and howling, clawing at the tatters of their clothes and gouging each other’s eyes.

“Get back!” Trent said when, with a scream of outrage, the larger demon finally beat the first away. Standing between Nina and the darkness, the tall surface demon raised his hands to the sky, howling as if making a claim. His cry echoed against the flat spaces, dying away to leave the demon staring at us, his chest moving up and down as he panted, thin hands clenched.

Trent’s fingers tightened in mine, his uninvoked charm hovering just under his skin. “Wait,” I said as the surface demon spun to Nina. “No, wait!” I demanded as the silence was broken by the soft clicks of rock and the whisper of dead grass as the surrounding surface demons skulked back, leaving us. “I think he drove the rest off.”

With a high-pitched whine, the tall surface demon fell prostrate before Nina, burbling and groaning, the tattered remnants of its aura smearing the dust to leave patterns. Nina/Felix stared, inching backward.

“What is it doing?” I whispered as the demon closed the new gap, his wizened arm black with age or disease, stretched out as if wanting to touch her but afraid to.

Bis popped in, winging up for altitude when he saw the surface demon writhing at her feet, gibbering like a monkey. I’d never seen anything like it, and the noise it made crawled up my spine like ice.

“Go away, you putrid thing,” Nina threatened, her voice dropping into the lower ranges. It was Nina, but not, and I started when Bis landed on my shoulder to wrap his tail around my back and under my arm for balance. He wouldn’t dare jump her out. Hell, I think he was scared to touch her, much less share mental space with her.

But the surface demon cowered like a beaten dog as it couldn’t move forward, couldn’t move back, snatching glances at Nina and the blood dripping from a scratch under her eye. I’d never been this close to one before and not been fighting for my life. It was almost as if I was looking at him through a fog. His features were indistinct, but gaunt, as if starved. The tattered remnants of his clothes gave no indication of color, and as soon as I looked away, I couldn’t remember if his hair was long or short. Again, I was struck by the feeling that he was there, but not, and I shuddered at the memory of how it had felt when I had pulled it off her.

“I said, go!” Nina/Felix shouted, and the surface demon scuttled back at her swinging foot. Feet spread in a way no woman in a skirt ever would, Nina threw the staff after it to clatter into the dust.

My circle was long gone, but it didn’t matter. The surface demons had left, even the ones at the outskirts. I exhaled, relieved. But another part of me was seething in anger. Felix had taken Nina over far too easily. The woman had been lying to Ivy, lying for three whole months. The worst part was, I think Ivy knew it.

“I ought to leave you here to rot,” I said, talking to Felix, but if I did, Nina would be the one to suffer.

Nina stiffened, her lip curling to show tiny pointed canines. She wouldn’t get the extended fangs until she died, which—if I got my way—would be tomorrow.

“Rachel,” Bis whispered as his feet pinched my shoulder in worry. Trent, too, wanted to leave, but I couldn’t. Not yet. The son of a bastard was playing Ivy for a fool.

“Get out of Nina,” I said, shaking off Trent’s hand and moving a step closer.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Nina said, foolishly trying to hide the fact that it really was Felix, but young women in dress suits do not tug their sleeves down in agitation.

“Do we have to do this right now?” Trent said, eyes on the darkening shadows.

“Yes,” I said, coming another step closer. “Felix, get out of Nina. Get out and don’t come back. Right now, or I’m telling Ivy.”

The woman bared her teeth, dark eyes going darker. “Ivy? She doesn’t matter!”

“Maybe not to you,” I said shaking from the spent adrenaline. “But if Ivy knows, she might give up on Nina.”

“That’s fine with me.” Nina’s eyes narrowed, making the woman look dead already in the last of the light.

“Me too,” I said, heartsick for Ivy even as I hated Felix. “But if she does, Nina is going to find the balls to kick you out for good.”

Beside me, Trent made a sound of understanding. Nina’s expression twisted up in a snarl, hearing the truth of it.

“Love is funny like that,” I added.

Nina’s expression darkened, anger bubbling up until she was as ugly as the monster seeing the world through her eyes, wallowing in Ivy’s love as if it was his to have. My chin lifted, and seeing my determination, he suddenly left her.

Nina staggered, collapsing like a puppet whose strings had been cut. Sobbing, she huddled on the ground, exhausted and hyped up on the hormones Felix had pulled into her blood system. She touched her face, shocked at the blood, and my heart just about broke for Ivy. God, I hated the master vampires.

He might be gone, but the flash of evil intent that had crossed her left me shaking.

He’d be back.