A Fistful of Charms (38 page)

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Authors: Kim Harrison

BOOK: A Fistful of Charms
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T
he wind was whipping the decorative flags at the archway to the parking lot, and I blinked at them, fascinated. I had the remains of a burger in one hand, and a fizzy drink in the other. Jenks had insisted I get some iron-rich protein in me to chase down the Brimstone, but I suspected it had only been an excuse to get the drink, which he then spiked with even more Brimstone. Why else would I be feeling this great when my life was in the crapper? And I was feeling pretty damn good, like a weight had lifted and the sun was starting to shine.

Ivy would return soon, and though I had been all tough-girl by coming out here, it seemed prudent to get back before she found out I was gone. If Jenks and she were to be believed, I structured my life to be as horrific as possible to have fun in bed, but having Ivy mad at me might be too much for even me right now.

“What time is it?” I asked, squinting in the stiffer breeze and looking for the car. People bothered at our slow pace hustled past us, but I was enjoying the wind and the view of the straits.

Jenks snickered, clearly guessing where my thoughts were. He had slammed his twenty-ounce Dew and shook for a good thirty seconds, jittery and bright eyed, making me wonder which one of us was the better bet to drive home. Juggling his bags, he checked his wrist, beaming. “Four forty-six,” he said. “Only a minute off that time.”

“By the time you get acclimated, we'll be heading home,” I said, then pushed into motion. “When did you get a watch?”

“Yesterday with Jax,” he said, stretching to see the parking lot over the heads of the surrounding people. “I got you a camera too, and my knife. I don't like being this big.”

I wasn't going to tell him it was illegal to carry a concealed knife. Besides, he was a pixy. The law didn't apply to him. I smiled at the way the sunlight glittered on his hair, even if it was black. “Big bad wolfs,” I said, then sucked down another swig of pop, stumbling on the curb as we found the street. “We're going to blow their damned house down.”

His motions seamless, Jenks took my drink away and dropped it into the nearest trash container. “You okay?”

“Oh yeah,” I said enthusiastically. I handed him the last of my burger, which he threw away for me too. “You ought to know. You're the one who keeps spiking my food.”

Giving me a wry look, Jenks gallantly took my arm. A giggle slipped from me at the show of support, appalling me. Damn it, this wasn't fair. If they got me hooked on Brimstone, I was going to be majorly pissed—if I could remember why I was mad at them, that is.

Still laughing, I pulled my head up, going cold with a pulse of fear. Leaning against Kisten's Corvette were Brett and Walter Vincent, the first one scanning the faces of the people leaving the mall, the second doing the same but with a murderous intensity. Immediately I realized what had happened, and I thanked God we weren't at the motel, trapped in a little box of a room. Jenks and I were under a disguise, and though they hadn't known about Kisten's car, it probably smelled like the pixy, seeing as he drove it yesterday. They had found us.

“Oh, fudge,” I whispered, leaning heavily on Jenks's arm. Just that fast, I had gone from exuberant to panic, the Brimstone taking over my moods. “You got anything more lethal than that knife on you?” I asked.

“No. Why?” His forward momentum barely hesitated as he looked up from watching my feet. “Oh,” he said softly, his fingers tightening on my arm for an instant. “Okay.”

I wasn't surprised when he did an abrupt turn-about and wheeled us back into the mall. Bending close, Jenks sent the aroma of dry meadow over me. “Your disguises are working,” he whispered. “Pretend we just forgot something and have to go pick it up.”

I found myself nodding, scanning the contented faces around me, searching for anger in the vacationing people. My pulse was fast and my skin tingling. Pam was dead; they would be after me for that if nothing else. Weres were timid, apart from the alpha and the first few down, and since the round was broken, they would stay in the background and keep our squabble private. We'd be okay unless we got ourselves in a blind alley. And there weren't many of those in Mackinaw City.

“I'm going to call Ivy,” I said, pulling my bag around and opening it.

Body tense, Jenks drew me to a stop to put my back to a brick wall and stand partially in front of me. It was a candy shop—big surprise there—and my stomach growled as I hit speed dial. “Come on, come on,” I crabbed, waiting for it to go through.

The circuit clicked open and Ivy's voice filtered out. “Rachel?”

“Yeah, it's me,” I said, shoulders easing in relief. “Where are you?”

“On the bridge back. Why?” She hesitated, and I could hear the distinctive sound of Nick's truck. “Why do I hear people?” she added suspiciously.

Jenks winced, and I squinted in the sun, backing up until the overhang put me in the shade. “Uh, Jenks and I went on a procurement run.”

“Shopping?” she yelped. “Rachel! Damn it, can't you just sit still for a couple of hours?”

I thought of the Brimstone running rampant through me, deciding that no, I couldn't.

Jenks tossed his head, and I followed his grim gaze to a pair of elegantly dressed tourists. They had shopping bags, but they were a little too attentive. Turning his back to them, Jenks angled to block their view of me.
Damn it, this was getting dicey.
My pulse quickened and I hunched into the phone. “Look, I did some thinking, and you're right.” I peeked around Jenks, then rocked back. “How long will it take for you to get to that open-air mall?”

“You did some thinking?” Ivy said softly, sounding vulnerable.

Jenks scanned the plaza. “Tick-tock, Rache.”

Anxious, I turned to the phone. “Yeah. I need to start making smarter decisions. But we're at that mall and Brett and Walter are sitting on the car.” The good feeling the Brimstone had instilled in me had sifted to fear, and I clamped down on my rising panic. At its heart, Brimstone was an intensifier. If you were happy, you were really happy. If you were sad, you were suicidal. Right now I was scared out of my mind. Until it wore off, I was going to be a roller coaster of emotions.
Damn it, I didn't have time for this!

Ivy snarled something at Nick, and I heard a horn blast. “How many?” she asked tightly.

I looked past Jenks, seeing sunlit flowers and cheerful storefronts. “Four so far, but they have phones. We're wearing disguises, so they probably don't know it's us.”
Calm down, Rachel,
I told myself, trying to use the drug to my advantage.
Think.

“I knew this was going to happen. I knew it!” Ivy shouted.

“Well, I'd rather meet them here than the motel,” I said, doggedly trying to pull my emotions from fear back to invincibility. It wasn't working. I was still scared.

“The bridge is still one lane either way,” Ivy snarled. “I can't get around this guy. Give the phone to Jenks. I want to talk to him.”

Jenks paled and shook his head.

“Jenks!” she exclaimed, “I know you can hear me. I can't believe you let her talk you into this. I told you she needed at least another course of Brimstone before she could work in the kitchen, much less go out!”

“I'm not that weak,” I said indignantly, but Jenks was way ahead of me, and he took the phone, holding it so we could both hear.

“She ate that last cookie, Ivy,” he said, clearly offended. “And I just gave her another dose of the stuff. She's running on full. I'm not stupid.”

“I knew it!” I said, glancing past Jenks at the drifting people. “You slipped me some!”

There was a short silence, and Ivy said softly, “You picked up more Brimstone?”

Jenks met my eyes. “Yeah. And don't worry. I paid cash. It's not on the card.”

“Where did you get the money, Jenks?” Ivy asked, the threat clear in her voice.

“It wasn't that expensive,” he said, but I could tell he thought he'd done something wrong by his suddenly worried look.

“You ass!” Ivy said. “Get her the hell out of there! You bought street-grade, you stupid pixy! She's higher than a kite!”

Jenks's mouth worked but nothing was coming out.

“Uh, Ivy?” he squeaked. “We gotta go.”

“Don't hang up!” Ivy yelled. “Give me to Rachel. Jenks, give the phone to Rachel!”

Jenks went to end the call, and I snatched the phone. I was on street-grade Brimstone? Swell. Just swell. I thought it was hitting me a little hard. I could hear Ivy telling Nick what had happened, catching the word “invincible” and “get herself killed.” Jenks turned to scan the area, his posture tense and guilty looking.

“Hey, Ivy,” I said, my mood having done a quick shift to anger. “The next time you and Jenks want to play doctor, just shove the Brimstone up your ass, okay? Both of you. I'm not your freaking play-doll.”

“I'm on my way,” Ivy said, ignoring me. “Rachel, just…sit somewhere. Can you do that? I'll get you out.”

I leaned against the brick wall, feeling every little projection dig into me through my shirt. “Take your time,” I said flippantly, ticked and nerved-up all at the same time. The adrenaline was flowing, and Brimstone had my skin tingling. “Jenks and I are going to plan B.”

“Plan B?” Ivy said. “What is plan B?”

Jenks reddened. “Grab the fish and run like hell,” he muttered, and I almost giggled.

“I'm going to walk out of here,” I said, deciding I'd rather be invincible than scared, “and catch the trolley back to the motel. And if anyone stops me, I'm going to kick—their—ass.”

“Rachel,” Ivy said slowly, “it's the Brimstone. You aren't thinking. Just sit tight!”

My eyes narrowed. “I can take care of myself,” I said, starting to feel really good. It wasn't the Brimstone. No, I lived for excitement! I made decisions based on what would screw my life up the most! I was a messed-up, screwed-up stupid witch who had to mix danger with her sex life in order to get turned on, and I was going to live a very short, exciting life. I went to end the call, then hesitated. “Hey, you want me to keep the phone line open?”

“Yes,” she said softly. “No. Yes.”

I sobered at the worry in her voice. “Okay.”

My blood tingled through me, and I tucked the phone into my waistband, upside down so the mike was exposed and not muffled by my jeans. Ivy would be able to hear everything that happened. I looked at Jenks, seeing his worry and tension. “Well?” I said, pushing myself off the wall. “What do you think?”

“I think Ivy's going to kill me,” he whispered. “Rachel. I'm sorry. I didn't know.”

I took a breath, exhaling long and slow. It was done. If anything, I ought to thank him; I was up and walking, able to run even if I was going to pay for it later. “Don't worry about it,”
I said, touching his shoulder. “Just stop making my decisions for me, okay?”

My roving eyes fell upon the bench he and I had been sitting on. My mouth went dry and I tried to swallow. Brett was standing by it, his arms crossed and his eyes fixed on me. He was smiling. At me. “Shit,” I breathed. “Jenks, they know it's us.”

He nodded, his youthful face going serious. “He showed up a few minutes ago. We have six at the exit behind us and four at the bend the other way.”

“And you just let me keep talking to Ivy?” I said, not believing it.

A shrug lifted his shoulders. “They're Weres. They aren't going to make a scene.”

Normally I would have agreed with him. Heart pounding, I snuck a look at the six Weres at the exit. They had scads of jewelry and were in bright colors, making them from the street pack. Bringing up my second sight, I felt the last of my bravado wash out of me. Their auras were rimmed in brown again. How had Walter managed to pull them back together like that?

“Ah, Jenks?” I said, knowing Ivy was listening. “They're in a round. They aren't going to just sit there. We have to leave before the rest arrive.”

Jenks looked at me, looked at the Weres, then looked at me again. His gaze went to the roof, and he was probably wishing he could fly. “There's only one layer of shops,” he said suddenly. “Let's go.”

Grabbing my arm, he pulled me into the fudge store. Feet stumbling, I followed him in, breathing deeply of the rich scent of chocolate. There was a small line at the counter, but Jenks plowed to the front of it amid a chorus of indignant protest. “Pardon, me. 'Scuse us,” he said, flipping the barrier up between the front and the back.

“Hey!” a large woman called out, her apron tied with the smartness of a uniform. “You can't come back here!”

“Just passing through!” Jenks called cheerfully. The bags
he held rattled, and letting go of my arm for a moment, he dipped a finger into the puddle of fudge cooling on a marble table. “Needs more almond,” he said, tasting it. “And you're cooking it half a degree too long.”

The woman's mouth opened in surprise, and he pushed past her and into the kitchen.

“There,” I said, and Jenks's eyes shot to the back door, outlined by the boxes stacked around it. The security door was open to let the hot air of the kitchen escape through a normal-looking screen door. Beyond that were the employees' cars in a nasty-looking alley, and beyond that, the main road. In the distance, the straits sparkled, looking as big as a lake.

“Ready?” Jenks asked.

I jerked my splat ball gun out of my bag. “Yup. Let's go.”

“What the hell are you doing back here?” a masculine voice called.

I turned, and the man's eyes went wide at my cherry-red gun, then he got nasty. “This is my place of business!” he shouted. “Not a paint ball stadium! Get out! Get out!”

“Sorry,” I mumbled, then bolted for the door when he shambled forward, hands reaching. Jenks and I dove through it, skittering into the alley in a surge of adrenaline. The bang of the heavy door slamming shut shot through me.

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