Black Magic Sanction (The Hollows #8)

"What, by the two worlds colliding, are you doing!" Al shouted, ruddy face ugly. Pierce flung himself back. A sheet of green-tinted ever-after rose between us, and I stood, my chair crashing to the floor.

"Al, wait!" I shouted, lurching clear when Al dove across the kitchen for Pierce, shoving the table aside. My splat gun and Pierce's hat hit the floor, victims of inertia. Al's white-gloved hand smacked into Pierces hastily raised protection circle with an audible crunch.

"Bloody hell!" the elegantly dressed demon howled in his proper English accent and crushed green velvet as he shook his fist and danced back. "You bloody hell sewer rat. I told you no teaching her!" Looking from his hand, his anger shifted to me. "Hello, Rachel."

Pierce's face was white as he stood ramrod straight behind a shimmering sheet of green-tinted ever-after. A flair of red washed through it, and was gone. His expression was both determined and frustrated. Clearly he wasn't happy about being caught teaching me lines.

Al backed up, his head bowed over his gloved hand until a shimmer of ever-after coated it. "Maybe I should blame you," the demon muttered, goat-slitted red eyes making me shiver. "Using your feminine wiles to lead my familiar astray. If all you want is dangerous sex, I can give that to you better than he can, and I won't break your heart afterward."

Insulted, I glared, ready to argue with a demon who could snuff me as fast as I could flip a switch - but wouldn't. "He was just teaching me the theory on line jumping. More than you ever did! And I'm not too happy about you sending him to watch me. All he does is order me around, and it's not even good advice. He's part of the problem!"

Al's eyes narrowed. I had taken three steps back before I even realized it, the small of my back hitting the counter. Sure, as his student - the only one worth teaching in the last five thousand years - keeping me in good health and not bent into a pretzel was a plus, but if I went too far he might not be opposed to being known as the one who killed their chance at a rebirth of demons. Trent could make more of me, and Al knew it. Bastard.

"Pierce watching you wasn't my idea," he said smoothly, his anger an icy thread in his voice. "You'll learn line jumping when I say so." He looked at Pierce over his glasses, and I shivered. "And not from some runt with delusions of grandeur. You need a gargoyle."

My anger hesitated, thoughts spinning back to last winter when he congratulated me on "having my own gargoyle" and asking him to come share mortar cakes with Treble... "Treble knows how to line jump?" I asked, and Al chuckled, the noise low and satisfied.

"Of course she does. She won't be teaching you, though." Spinning on a heel he turned to give Pierce a derisive look. "You're a mess. Get out of that circle. I won't kill you today. Brew me a coffee while Rachel and I talk."

His face white, Pierce let his circle drop. Al saw the direction of my gaze, and he shook his head at me. "You look even worse, itchy witch. You simply must take more care in your personal hygiene. I'll not have it said that I'm bringing you up poorly."

"I've been a little too preoccupied to worry about what I look like," I said.

"Pish posh. Appearance is all we have sometimes. Make it a priority." I stiffened when he stooped to pick up first my splat gun, then Pierce's hat, but he only handed me my weapon. "I smell pancakes," Al said as he jauntily smacked Pierce's hat back on the witch's head. "Did the runt make you breakfast?" Al said, leaning over the stove. "Quickest way to a woman's crotch is through her gullet, eh?" he said, leering at Pierce, who was now rinsing out the percolator. "Is it working? I'd be curious to know. I'd buy her a cake or something."

Pierce was silent, his lips pressed tight as he washed the coffeepot. I didn't know what to do with my splat gun, so I tucked it in the back of my waistband. "Al, I spent yesterday in Alcatraz," I said, trying to sound reasonable. "I want my name back. We had a deal."

Ignoring me, Al turned to the rest of the apartment, the tails of his frock coat furling. "Where are we?" he asked, flicking on lights as he passed into the living room. "Cincinnati," he said dryly, peeking through the blinds and gazing out the black windows, hands on his hips as he surveyed the street below as if he owned it. "It stinks of trains and that chili with the chocolate in it. Ooooh, books!" he exclaimed suddenly, making a beeline for the small library.

I shoved the table back where it belonged and Pierce picked up my chair, draping his coat and vest over it and taking off his hat. The man was subdued, his anger simmering. He wouldn't look at me, ticked perhaps that we'd attracted Al's attention. Watching Al coo over the books like they were puppies, I realized he'd never been here before, which begged the question of whom Nick was summoning. The raised circle in the corner wasn't for playing marbles.

"This isn't your home," Al said, pulling out a volume and laying it open across one thick hand. "Nothing smells like you." He gave me a questioning look over his round smoked glasses and snapped the book closed. Sliding it away, he reached over his head, not even looking where his hands were going as he found that ley-line knife resting out of his eyesight.

"Shiny!" the demon said, his lips parting to show his blocky teeth. "I haven't seen this since I stuck it in Amenhotep." The demon's eyes flicked to mine, his smile widening. "This is Nicholas Gregory Sparagmos's room," he said, and my breath caught. "Delightful, just delightfull What are you doing in Nicky's room, Rachel? Ooooh, he summoned you to the West Coast, didn't he? Did you kill him? Good for you for taking care of that little problem}. I should give you a bunny. Where is he? Stuffed in a closet?"

Pierce shut the cupboard door hard, and I jumped. "She should have killed him, but she doesn't listen to me," he muttered, and I gave him a dark look.

"Al, why are you here if it's not to give my name back?" I asked, and the demon sighed, breathing deeply of the knife's blade.

"It's after sundown. I'm assessing whether your worry is valid." Eyes closing in bliss, Al ran his tongue up the length of the blade, a soft sound escaping him as he licked the knife clean of nothing I could see. "I'm going to rub the little wizard's head from his skinny shoulders for summoning you. I'm the only one allowed to pull you about." He put the knife away, fingers reluctantly slipping from it. "Not that I ever have... "

"No, you just keep crashing my life. Look - " I said, and Al grunted.

"Here it comes," the demon muttered. "Listen. Listen to this, runt. She's going to have a list." And Pierce shrugged, carefully filling the pot with fresh water.

"Hey!" I snapped, not liking either of their attitudes. "If you're not going to make good on our deal, then you need to leave. And if you leave, you might better spend some time finding a good lawyer for breach of contract! I know people, you know."

"No need to get nasty," Al said, pouting. "With this nonsense about being summoned, I felt you slipping into a line and came to check. Apparently you've exaggerated your trouble."

"Excuse me?" I stood where I was, hands on my hips. "I'm not exaggerating anything. I was in Alcatraz. I want my name back. No one knows mine but my mom, Ivy, and Jenks!"

"And me." Al ran his finger across the front of the big-screen TV, har-rumphing at the dust. "You should just scare the hell out of them. Consider this your chance to practice."

"I don't need practice," I said through gritted teeth. "I need my name back. They're talking lobotomy. Sure would be a shame for your investment to end up dumber than a rock."

Coattails furling, Al strode to the pile of electronics, picking up a camera and opening the back to take the memory card and slip it into a pocket. "You are so cute when you squirm," he murmured, looking at me over his glasses and dropping the camera so it hit with a crack.

"Al - "

"I'm giving you the chance to grow," Al said as he sat on the couch, spreading his arms across the top. "I'd be a poor guardian if I fought all your battles for you. They're paltry witches. You're demon kin. What can they do to you?"

Frustrated, I held my arms out, hands in fists and palms up. "My knees are the size of grapefruits from dancing, maybe? And these shackle marks are from what?"

Al's red eyes slid past me to Pierce. "Play?" he said, his voice dripping interest. "Gordian Nathaniel Pierce's quirks are legendary. Why do you think I want the runt so badly? Size truly doesn't matter if you can do what he can."

I looked at Pierce - his softly curling hair hid his face, but his jaw was tight and his hands shook as he measured out the grounds and plugged in the percolator. Male witches' anatomy generally didn't measure up to a human's, but witch women always came back.

" 'Course it might all be propaganda," Al said as he pulled a watch from his fob pocket. His eyes met mine, and I shivered when he rose. "Let me guess...," he said as he started walking to me, each foot placed precisely. "The little wizard summoned you to the West Coast with my name knowing he would get you, then fled here to summon you out of their grasp, probably whining some poppycock bull about how he lo-o-o-oves you."

I retreated as Al advanced until my back hit the counter. "Nick is slime," I said, scared.

Al pressed close, far too close, and I held my breath, cringing. Not quite touching me, but almost, the lace at his throat shifted. "The question is," Al whispered, eying Pierce, "Nicky wouldn't know you had my name unless someone told him. Who told him, Rachel?"

"The coven." Al stank of burnt amber, and seeing me wince, he drew back, frowning. Knees shaking, I pushed from the counter.

"The coven," Al echoed, mocking me. "Yes. But who told them?"

I thought about Trent and dropped my eyes. "The problem isn't who told the coven your name," I said. "The problem is someone told them I can invoke demon magic. Maybe it was you trying to force me into the ever-after."

Al huffed, turning away. "Rachel, Rachel, Rachel... Such thoughts of paranoia. And you say you don't need a babysitter."

"I don't!"

He stood at the table, both elegant and derisive. "Then start acting like a demon, itchy witch."

"I'm not a demon," I said, glancing at the clock. Crap, it was after six. Nick

"You could have fooled me." Al's white glove vanished, and he examined his hand, the thick knuckles going white as he flexed his fingers. "This entire situation is so... banal" The glove misted back into existence, and his attention landed on me. "You must do better, love, if you expect anyone to take you seriously."

"Is there a point to this?" My arms were over my chest again, and I forced them down.

"I bloody well hope so," Pierce grumbled as he set a cup beside the chugging pot.

"The point is, you could excel if you would simply exert yourself!" Al complained.

My head shifted back and forth. "I don't want to be a demon. I just want my name back so my life can go back to chaotic and weird instead of chaotic and desperate."

Al took a breath to say something, and when he held it, head cocked, my face went cold. Dragonfly wings. A slow smile spread across Al's face as he locked gazes with me.

"Jax?" I called, not seeing him but knowing the pixy was here. "I didn't call him. I didn't call him, Jax! You've got to believe me!"

In a sprinkling of falling green dust, a pixy darted into the kitchen. Jax stared at us with his mouth hanging open. His hand was over his bi-cep, almost hiding a new tear in his shirt.

"I didn't call him," I pleaded, and the young pixy's wings hit a new high, his mouth moving, but nothing coming out. "Jax, tell Nick not to come in!"

Jax darted to whatever pixy hole he'd come through. But it was too late, and I heard the knob turn. "Nick! No!" I shouted, running for the door.

I gasped as I ran right into Al, suddenly before me. It was like running into a tree. "Nick!" I shouted. "Don't come in! Nick! Get out!"

But with a thump of furious music from downstairs and the smell of Chinese takeout, Nick came into the shadowy apartment. Jax was a streak of silver, his voice high and unrecognizable as he panicked. "Get out!" I shouted, stumbling when Al vanished, reappearing behind Nick in the open doorway. Oh God. Can this get any worse?

Al shoved the door shut with one foot. "Hi, Nicky."

Yup, it can.

Nick spun, eyes wide. Dropping the takeout boxes, he scrabbled frantically for the slab circle in the corner. He didn't have a chance.

Al reached a white-gloved hand out and snagged him like an errant kitten, holding him up by the scruff of his neck and giving him a shake. "Got you, you little wizard."

Nick choked, spinning slightly with his toes just touching the floor. "Little... bitch," he gagged, face red and long hair brushing Al's fingers. "You little bitch. I trusted you... "

"Jax! No!" I exclaimed, hands high as I got between Al and the pixy. He'd get himself killed. "Take the high ground and look for an opening. You can't take a demon by the front!"

Al looked at me in question from over his glasses, but the small pixy had withdrawn in frustration, and that's all I was after.

"It's not what it looks like," I babbled to Nick. "Al, let him go. You can't snag him. He's with me." I looked at Pierce, but the man was standing in the kitchen beside the coffeepot with his arms crossed, an annoyed expression on his face.

It smelled like the demons' mall that Al had taken me to once, the burnt amber mixing with the smell of green things, takeout, and brewing coffee. Al grinned to show his thick, flat, blocky teeth, clearly pleased as he held Nick up off the floor with one white-gloved hand. "No," he said. "He owes me. Got a mark and everything. I need some help in the kitchen, and since the runt over there is babysitting you, this will have to do."

I looked at Pierce standing in the kitchen beside the gurgling coffeepot. He wasn't doing anything! But then... what did I expect him to do? It was Al.

Nick's choking started to sound serious and his face went red. "Al, you're hurting him!" I exclaimed. "One mark doesn't give you the right to take him, and you know it. Let him go!"

"Make me," the demon said with a snicker, and Nick's legs started to twitch. "Let me jump you to a line, worm. It will be easier that way."

Was I going to have to force Al to hold to his agreement every bloody time? "Don't push me on this, Al," I said, pulse fast as I rocked on the balls of my feet. I could hear Jax's wings, and prayed he'd stay out of the way. "You agreed. No snagging people with me unless you have a prior claim, and you don't have one on Nick! Let him go!"

"I was a fool to have... trusted you," Nick said, gagging, hatred in his bloodshot eyes as spittle formed between his lips.

"This wasn't my idea," I barked at him. "I didn't summon him, he just showed up! Al, let him go!" I tugged the demon's arm, but nothing moved.

"Wah, wah, wahh," Al said sarcastically. "You knew what you were getting into, little Nicky. When you invite a demon into your home, you get what you get."

My face went cold. I let go of Al's arm and dropped back. Nick, clawing at Al's grip on his throat, sent his eyes to mine. "I'm not a demon," I said, knees wobbling.

Al pulled out a pocket watch and looked at it. "Technically, perhaps, but one can't help one's birth, can one? Ta. Must dash. Lots to do tonight."

"Rachel - " Nick choked out, fear thick on him as he struggled to find his feet and get out of Al's grip. "I'll get you for this. I promise."

"Don't be gauche," Al said before my mouth opened, all playfulness gone from his cultured voice. "You did this to yourself - summoning Rachel to the West Coast with my name? Don't deny it. I can still smell the stink of broken dreams on you." Nick's eyes squinted shut when Al pulled him close and breathed deeply of his hair. "No need to change names, now, love," the demon said. "I'd think you'd be glad to be rid of him, seeing as he put you in Alcatraz."

"We had a deal," I tried again, hearing the soft sound of Pierce pouring a cup of coffee. "If you don't let him go, I swear... "

Al arched his eyebrows at me, waiting. At my shoulder, Jax started humming nervously.

"You're not teaching me crap," I said, voice shaking. "And you're all but ignoring not one, but two agreements we have. What by God's little green apples are you doing for me?"

He hesitated, and I exhaled, pushing out all the tension. "Newt would love me to be her student," I said, and Al squinted at me from over his glasses. "Either you start making good or I have no reason not to accept. Hell, I'd get rid of Pierce that way. Maybe I should."

"You wouldn't," Al intoned, and Nick took a gasping breath as Al's fingers loosened.

"Why not?" I was shaking, and I crossed my arms over my chest to try to hide it. "Who's watching her?" I asked. "Anyone? She killed Minias, didn't she?"

"Rumor has it." Al loosened his fingers a touch more, and Nick's feet touched the carpet.

I felt a surge of strength. "How would all you good old boys like it if us girls got together? Huh? Wouldn't that be great? I'm sure she'll remember everything, eventually."

Al's eyes narrowed. I arched my eyebrows, wishing I could do the one-eyebrow trick, and he frowned. "You're not worth it," he muttered, and shoved Nick away.

The human went flying, hitting the door and sliding to the floor beside the spilled Chinese food. His hand was around his neck, and he was gagging, trying to get more air into himself than was possible. Jax flew to him and I slumped, feeling sick. I couldn't stomach going to Newt. But Al knew better than to call me on this bluff. If I got mad enough, I would.

"I'll see you both on Saturday," the demon said to me, gesturing for Pierce to hand him the cup of coffee. "No more parties, itchy witch."

"Looking forward to it," I said, glowering back at him. Saturday wasn't going to be fun, but at least stupid-ass Nick would be safe and sound in reality where he belonged.

Jax's wings were loud as he hovered over Nick, and the human was stumbling to his feet, using the wall for balance as he glared at me like he wanted to kill me. Al, though, was taking a sip of coffee, his eyes momentarily closing in bliss. Opening, they fixed on Nick. "Hard to imagine, my itchy witch speaking out for you. What twisted way will you find to thank her?" he mocked. "If I find you alone, I will take you." He shifted his gaze to Pierce, unrepentant as always. "We're going to talk, runt," he said, voice hard.

"Get out of here," Nick rasped, and in a soft haze of ever-after, Al was gone.

I took a slow breath, my knees starting to shake. "Damn it!" I shouted, startling myself as I realized what had happened. I'd saved Nick, but what about me? "Damn it to the Turn. Damn it all to hell and back!" I made a fist, but there was nothing to hit. I hadn't gotten my name back. I was just as screwed as I was when I'd been sitting in Alcatraz. "Just one break," I shouted at the ceiling. "Why can't I have just one lousy break?" Depressed, I slumped at the kitchen table. "Just one?" I asked, voice high and squeaky.

"Rachel!" Pierce shouted, and my head came up. Eyes widening, I looked up to see Nick coming at me with that knife. Gasping, I slid from the chair to under the table. Hand reaching behind me, I found my splat gun and pointed it at him.

Nick slid to a stop, holding the knife pointed backward and looking like he knew how to use it. "I trusted you," he rasped, his free hand on his throat, his blue eyes almost black in the dim light. Al's handprint was clear on his neck, and his eyes were wild.

"I just saved your ass!" I shouted from under the table, shaking. My aim, though, never shifted.

"I trusted you!" he shouted again. "I brought you into my homel And you summoned him into it. I should have let you bleed out in that library. I should have walked away and let you die! My life has been one shit fest after another since I met you!"

Pierce was moving cautiously forward to get between us, his eyes on Nick, not the knife. His hands were utterly devoid of magic, which made me feel better. The gun I had pointed at Nick was starting to shake, but I wouldn't drop it.

"Your life has been a shit fest?" I shouted, and Pierce halted. "Don't talk to me about a shit fest! I just bluffed my way out of you becoming Al's latest blow-up doll!"

Someone pounded on the wall, a muffled voice demanding we shut up.

"You can get Turned for all I care!" I continued. "And for your information, I didn't summon Al! He just showed up! He does that! My life has been hell since I met you, Nick. You saddled me with a demon mark and got this started. I don't owe you anything! Anything!"

The last was a veritable shriek, and Nick lowered the knife. He glanced at Pierce, then me. Backing up, he set the dagger on the top shelf. Head down, he strode to the bathroom and slammed the door behind him roughly, not acknowledging what I had said. My eyes met Pierce's, and I swallowed hard when I heard Nick retching. Yeah, my stomach didn't feel all that good, either. Damn it, I was crying, too.

Jax hovered for a moment in indecision, then dropped to the floor and slid under the door.

The soft touch on my shoulder jerked me straight. Bringing the gun around, I gasped, trying to see through the tears. It was Pierce crouching beside me. "I-I... ," I babbled, but I couldn't let go of the gun. Nick... He'd wanted to kill me.

"Go away," I managed. I was crying, and I wiped the back of my hand under an eye.

"No," Pierce said gently, one knee on the faded linoleum. "I may have used your mistake to twist Newt into forcing Al to grant me leave, but I'm here, and I'm not leaving."

I looked up, numb as I wiped my eyes again. "I don't feel so good."

Pierce encircled me with his arms, and before I could protest, he pulled me out from under the table and carried me to the couch. I was trembling, and he draped the afghan over me. My blood was being drawn inward, leaving me cold. I couldn't let go of the gun. I wanted to, but I couldn't.

"I never should have come here," I said as Pierce tucked the scratchy yarn under my chin. "This was a mistake. You were right. I should have gotten on the bus."

"Just because you give a man the mitten doesn't mean you don't care for him," Pierce said, and I looked up, seeing Nick's and my words through Pierce's eyes. A lovers spat?

"I don't love Nick," I breathed, numb. "He's a thief, and I'm attracted to danger. That's all. The thief part I might have been able to overlook, but the lies I couldn't."

Pierce had knelt beside me to put his eyes even with mine. Damn me if his stubble didn't make him look even more appealing. His concern was almost palpable, and my heart ached for having seen that same emotion in Kisten. But he wasn't Kisten. He was different.

"You risked everything to keep him from Al," Pierce said, his strong hands adjusting the afghan, always moving, adjusting, shifting. "If that's not love, what is?"

When Pierce got it wrong, he really got it wrong. "Pierce. Listen to me," I said, feeling the gun under the afghan. "I do not love Nick. But I could not stand there and let Al take him. Not for Nick's sake, but for mine. If Al got away with snatching people once, then his word to me wouldn't mean fairy farts."

His eyebrows went up, and his hands wiped my tears away. "You have grit, Rachel Morgan."

"You shouldn't have told me anything," I said, throat tight as I felt the gun shake in my hand. "I'm sorry I ever asked. He's going to give you hell on Saturday. I'm sorry."

Pierce shook his head, his lips pressed tight. "I suspicion... I think Al didn't mind me telling you about the lines, or he would have broken my circle and rowed me up salt river directly. It's not worth shucks."

"He might," I said, not wanting to see Al torment him. "He knows you were teaching me. He came because... " I hesitated, my tears stopping. "Al said he came because he felt me start to slip into a line." My eyes rose to his. "I was doing it?" I asked. "I was tuning my aura?"

Slowly Pierce's expression went from questioning to what might have been excitement. But then I sneezed. It was followed immediately by another.

"God bless," Pierce said, but I turned back with my hand over my face, my brief joy shifting to fear. My gut twisted, and that hollow ache I had thought was from despair worsened. I reached out in panic when it felt like the world dropped out from under me, my hand gripping Pierces shoulder. It was too soon for the sun to be down in San Francisco. Is itAl?

"Pierce?" I whispered, scared to death. Someone had me. "Someone has me, Pierce!" I warbled, panic icing me. "I can't stop this!"

I heard the bathroom door open, and the hum of pixy wings.

Pierce's arms went around me, and yet, I felt them become thin. "Rachel, I swan you'll be okay!" he said, struggling to make me look at him, but I was panicking. "I'll find Bis, and then I'll follow you. I promise. No one will hurt you!"

"She's being summoned?" Nick asked from the other side of the room, ignored.

To resist was stupid. The tears came down for real this time, big and heavy. "Thank you," I whispered as I held Pierce, and then my gut twisted and I had to let go as I bent double. Pierce pulled me back to him, and I breathed in his warmth. "I take it," I moaned, forehead pressed into Pierce's shoulder, my voice harsh as I tried to breathe through the pain. The imbalance demanded to be paid, or it would kill me.

As soon as I uttered the words, the pain vanished. Breath catching, I looked up to Pierce, his stubbled face inches from mine, reassurance struggling to make it past the worry in his eyes. "I'll find you," he whispered.

"Okay," I breathed, trusting him.

And then his hands slipped through me. I was gone.