A Fistful of Charms (14 page)

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Authors: Kim Harrison

BOOK: A Fistful of Charms
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“I understand more than you know,” he said, his words shifting his son's wings.

Rex skulked to the pizza box on the floor and stole a crust, running to the kitchen. She hunkered down, gnawing on it as if it was a bone and watching us with big, black, evil eyes. Seeing her, Jenks took a deep breath, and tension brought me straight. He had decided to help me. “Tell me what you two got caught doing. I'll help get Nick out under two conditions.”

My pulse quickened, and I found myself tapping my pencil on the table.

“What are they?” Jax asked, a healthy tone of caution mixing with hope.

“One, that you don't take another run until I give you the skills to keep your wings untattered. Nick is dangerous, and I don't want you taken advantage of. I may have raised a runner, but I did
not
raise a thief.”

Pixy dust sifted from Jax as he looked from his dad to me and back again in wide-eyed amazement. “What's the other?”

Jenks winced, his ears reddening. “That you don't tell your mother.”

I stopped my snicker just in time.

Jax's wings blurred into motion. “Okay,” he said, and a zing of adrenaline brought me back to the map. “Nick and I were contracted by a Were pack. These guys.”

He dropped from Jenks's hand to land on the island, and my thrill turned to unease. “They wanted a statue,” Jax said. “Didn't even know where it was. Nick called up a demon, Dad.” Dust sifted to make him look as if he was in a sunbeam. “He called up a demon and the demon told him where it was.”

Okay. Now I'm officially worried
. “Did the demon show up as a dog and turn into a guy wearing green velveteen and smoked glasses?” I asked, setting my pen down and holding my arms to myself.
Why, Nick? Why are you playing with your soul?

Jax shook his head, green eyes wide and frightened. “It showed up as you, Ms. Morgan. Nick was mad and yelled at it. We thought you were dead. It wasn't Big Al. Nick said so.”

My first flush of relief turned to a deep worry. A second demon. Better and better. “Then what?” I whispered. Rex jumped into Jenks's lap, nearly giving me a heart attack since I thought she had been going for Jax. How Jenks knew she hadn't been eluded me.

The dust rose and fell from Jax. “The demon, uh, took what they agreed on and told Nick where the statue was. A vampire in Detroit had it. It's older than anything.”

Why would a vampire have a Were artifact? I wondered. I glanced at Jenks, his hands keeping Rex from falling over while she inexpertly cleaned her ears.

Jenks puckered his brows, his smooth features trying to wrinkle but not managing it. “What does it do, Jax?” he said, shocking me again with how at odds his youthful face was to the tone of his voice. He looked eighteen; he sounded like he was forty with a bad mortgage.

Jax flushed. “I don't know. But we got it okay. The vampire had been staked in the 1900s, and it was just sitting there, forgotten in the slop.”

“So you found it,” I prompted. “What's the problem? Why are they hurting him?”

At that, Jax took to the air. Rex's eyes went black for the hunt, and Jenks soothed her, fingertips lost in her orange fur.
“Uh,” the pixy said, his voice high. “Nick said it wasn't what they said it was. Another pack found out he had it and made a better offer, enough to pay back what the first pack paid him to finance the snatch, plus a whole lot more.”

Jenks looked disgusted. “Greedy bastard,” he muttered, his jaw clenched.

I took an unhappy breath, leaning into my chair and crossing my arms over my chest. “So he sold it to the second group and the original pack wasn't happy about it?”

Jax shook his head solemnly, slowly drifting downward until his feet hit the map. “No. He said neither of them should have it. We were going to go to the West Coast. He had this guy who could give him a new identity. He was going to get us safe, then give the first pack their money back and walk away from the entire thing.”

My face scrunched into a frown.
Right
. He was going to get himself safe, then sell it to the highest bidder online. “Where is it, Jax?” I asked, starting to get angry.

“He didn't tell me. One day it was there, the next it was gone.”

In a sudden motion, Rex jumped up onto the table. Adrenaline surged, but Jax rubbed his wings together in a coaxing sound and the kitten padded over.

“It's not at our cabin, though,” the small pixy said, standing under the kitten's jaw and stretching to rake his fingers under her chin. “They tore it apart.” Stepping out from between Rex's paws, he met my eyes, looking scared. “I don't know where it is, and Nick won't tell. He doesn't want them to have it, Ms. Morgan.”

Greedy S.O.B.,
I thought, wondering why I cared if he loved me or not. “So where's their money?” I asked. “Maybe all they want is that, and they'll let him go.”

“They took it.” Jax didn't look happy. “They took it the same time they took him. They want the statue. They don't care about the money.”

I put my hand on the table to entice Rex to me but all she did was sniff my nails. Jenks curled a long hand under her
belly to put her on the floor, where she stared up at him. “And they're here?” Jenks asked, my attention following his to the map.

Jax's head bobbed. “Yup. I can show you exactly where.”

My eyes met Jenks's and we exchanged a silent look. This was going to take longer than a simple snatch and dash. “Okay,” I said, wondering if there was a phone book in the room. “We're here at least another night, probably through the week. Jax, I want to know everything.”

Jax shot almost to the ceiling. “All right!” he shouted, and Jenks glared at him.


You
are staying here,” he said, his tone thick with parental control, though he looked like a kid himself. His arms were crossed, and the determination in his eyes would have rocked a bulldog back from a bone.

“Like hell I—” Jax made a startled yelp when Jenks snatched him out of the air. My eyes widened. I didn't know what Jenks was worried about. He hadn't slowed at all.

“You will stay
here,
” he barked. “I don't care how old you are, you're still my son. It's too cold for you to be effective, and if you want me to teach you anything, it starts now.” He let go of Jax, and the pixy hovered right where Jenks had left him, looking scared. “You have to learn how to read before I can even take you out with me,” Jenks muttered.

“Read!” Jax exclaimed. “I get along okay.”

Uncomfortable, I rose and stretched, opening drawers until I found the yellow pages. I wanted to know my resources, seeing as we were out of Cincinnati. An island, for God's sake?

“I don't have to know how to read!” Jax sputtered.

“Like hell you don't,” Jenks said. “You want this life? That's your choice. I'll teach you what I know, but you're going to earn it!”

I sat at the head of the bed, where I could see them while flipping through the thin pages. It was last year's book, but nothing changed fast in small towns. I slowed when I found a large number of charm shops. I knew there must be a resident
population of witches taking advantage of the heavy-duty ley lines in the area.

Jenks's anger vanished as quickly as it had come, and more softly he said, “Jax, if you could read, you could have told us were you were. You could have hitched onto the first bus to Cincy and been home by sunset. You want to know how to pick the locks? Loop the cameras? Bypass security? Show me how bad you want it by learning what will help you the most first.”

Jax scowled, slowly descending until his feet settled in a glowing puddle of pixy dust.

“Here.” Jenks took the pencil I had left behind and leaned over the map. “This is how you write your name.” A few more silent moments. “And that is the alphabet.” I frowned at the sharp snap of the pencil being broken, and Jenks held the broken nub of graphite out to Jax. “Remember the song?” he prompted. “Sing it while you practice the letters. And L-M-N-O-P is not one letter, but five. It took me forever to figure that out.”

“Dad…” Jax whined.

Jenks stood, tilting the lamp shade to better light the map. “There are fifteen makers of locks in the U.S. You want to know which one you're picking before you blow yourself and your runner into the ever-after?”

Making a sharp noise with his wings, Jax started writing.

“Make the letters as big as your feet,” Jenks said as he came to see how I was progressing with the phone book. “No one can read your writing unless you do, and that's the entire point.”

Guilt in his eyes, Jenks sat beside me, and I shifted so I wouldn't slip into him. From the table by the door came the alphabet song, sounding like a death dirge. “Don't worry about it, Jenks,” I said, watching Rex follow him up onto the bed to make tiny jumps over the bedspread to him. “He'll be okay.”

“I know he will,” he said, the worry settling into his eyes.
Rex plopped herself into his lap, and he dropped his gaze. “It's not him I'm worried about,” he said softly. “It's you.”

“Me?” I looked up from the turning pages.

Jenks wouldn't bring his gaze from the kitten, a puddle of orange in his lap. “I have only a year to get him up to snuff so you'll have backup when I'm gone.”

Oh God.
“Jenks, you aren't a carton of milk with an expiration date. You look great—”

“Don't,” he said softly, eyes on his smooth fingers among Rex's fur. “I've got maybe one more tolerable year. When it goes, it goes fast. It's all right. I want to make sure you're okay, and if he's working for you, he won't be tempted to do anything stupid with Nick again.”

I swallowed, forcing the lump out of my throat. I had not gotten him back just to lose him. “Damn it, Jenks,” I said as Jax started the alphabet song again. “There's got to be a spell or a charm…”

“There isn't.” Finally he met my eyes. They held a deep bitterness, touched with anger. “It's the way it is, Rache. I don't want to leave you helpless. Let me do this. He won't let you down, and I'll feel better knowing he won't be working for Nick or the likes of him.”

Miserable, I sat beside him, wanting to give him a hug or cry on his shoulder, but apart from that time in front of Terri at the grocery store, he had always jumped when I touched him. “Thanks, Jenks,” I said, turning to the pages before he could see my eyes swimming. There was nothing I could say that wouldn't make him and me feel worse.

His grip shifted in Rex's fur, clearly wanting to change the subject. “What do the boat rentals look like?”

Taking a breath, I focused on the time-smeared print. “Okay, but there's still the problem of noise.” He looked blankly at me, and I added, “It would be stupid to think they don't watch the water, and it's not like we can just boat up to the beach and not expect to be seen. Even at night there's noise. It carries too well over water.”

“We could paddle across,” he suggested, and I gave him a telling look.

“Ah, Jenks? It's not a lake, it's a friggin' freshwater ocean. Did you see the size of the tanker going under the bridge when we came into town? The wake from it could tip us. I'm not canoeing it unless your name is Pocahontas. Besides, the ambient light will give us away, first-quarter moon or not. To expect fog is ridiculous.”

He made a face, glancing at Jax and clearing his throat to get him to start singing again. “You want to fly it? I lost my wings.”

“We're going to swim it.” I flipped forward a few pages. “Underwater.”

Jenks blinked. “Rache, you gotta stop using that sugar substitute.
Under
the water? Do you know how cold it is?”

“Just listen.” I found the page, and after taking Rex off his lap, I dropped the book onto it. It was my turn to hold the cat. She wiggled and squirmed, settling as the warmth of my hands covered her. “Look,” I said, charmed when Rex patted at my swinging bracelet. “They have scuba diving off the wrecks, charm enhanced so you don't freeze to death. The water's pretty clear here despite the current, and since they're privately owned, you can take whatever you want off the wrecks. It's a poor man's treasure-hunting excursion.”

He snorted. “I've never been swimming, and unless you took a class I wasn't aware of, you don't know how to dive.”

“Doesn't matter.” I pointed to the half-page ad. “See? They're licensed to take you out regardless of experience. I've heard of these things. They teach you enough so that you don't kill yourself, then you go out with a guide. Once you sign that release form, they're off the hook except for gross negligence.”

Eyebrows high, he looked at me. “Gross negligence? As in losing two divers? Won't someone notice when we don't get back on the boat?”

My fingers in Rex's fur moved faster, and she peered up at
me with her sweet kitten face. “Well, I wasn't going to try and slip away from them. I, uh, was going to talk to the owner. Maybe arrange something.”

Jenks glanced at his son literally hovering over his work, then back to me. “You'd trust a human to keep his mouth shut?”

“God, Jenks. You want me to knock them out and steal their stuff?”

“No,” he said, the quickness of his reply telling me he thought I should do just that. Sighing, he frowned. “Let's just say you talk to the owner and they go along with your little stunt. How do you plan on getting back to the mainland with Nick?”

Yeah, there was that
. “Maybe they'll give us an extra tank and stuff so we can all swim back. If we can't get to the mainland, we can get to Mackinac Island. Look, you could almost walk underwater to it. From there we can take the ferry to either side of the straits to help confuse our trail.” Pleased, I tucked a curl out of my way.

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