The Outlaw Demon Wails (50 page)

“Demon kin!” Trent exclaimed, his voice raw and alien. “It was there in front of me, but I didn't believe it! My father…Damn him!”

“Trenton!” Ceri's voice came faintly from over the graveyard as my consciousness started to slip. “Stop! Stop it!”

I felt her fingers trying to wedge between Trent's grip and my skin, and I choked as it loosened again. I couldn't break his hold, and my oxygen-starved muscles were like wet paper.

“She has to die,” Trent said, his voice close and rasping in my ear. “I heard them. My father. My father mended her,” he agonized, and his grip tightened. “She can start it up again! Not now! I won't let her!”

His arm muscle bunched, and as pain struck through me, I heard my last breath gurgle.

“Let go,” Ceri pleaded, and I saw her dress. “Trent, stop it!”

“They called her kin!” Trent shouted. “I watched her take a demon's name. She was summoned out under it!”

“She's not a demon,” Ceri demanded. “Let her go!” Her braid slapped me as she bent over us and tugged at his fingers. “Trenton, let her go! She saved Quen. She saved all of us. Let her go! She's not a demon!”

His grip loosened, and as I gasped, retching almost, he shoved me away from him.

I fell against the tombstone that he had hammered my head against, and I held it, fingers shaking as I pulled lungful after lungful of air into me, holding my neck and trying to find a way to breathe that didn't hurt. “She might not be a demon,” Trent said from behind me, and I turned. “But her children will be.”

I slumped back against the stone, feeling the blood drain from me.
My children…

Ceri was kneeling beside him, her hands on him as she felt for damage, ready to hold him back if he tried to finish the job. But all I could do was sit in the sun and stare. “What?” I rasped, and he laughed bitterly.

“You're the only female witch my father fixed,” he accused, taking the red ribbon from his neck and letting it fall to the ground. “Lee can't pass on the cure. It's in the mitochondria. You're the only one who could start it all up again. But I'll kill you first!”

“Trenton, no!” Ceri exclaimed, but he was too weak to do anything.

Staring at him, I felt my reality start to crumble.
God, no. It was too much.

“Trent,” Ceri was saying, kneeling between us, trying to distract him. “She saved us. You have a cure waiting in your labs because of her. We can be whole again, Trent! Kill her, and you stain our beginning. You lose everything! Stop fighting them. It's killing us!”

From under the mat of his hair, Trent seethed, his eyes trying to burn me where I sat. I felt dirty, unclean. Filthy.

“Your father saved her because he was friends with her father,” Ceri rushed. “He didn't know what it would do. It's not your fault. It's not her fault. But she gave you the way to make us whole today. Right now.” Ceri hesitated, then added, “Perhaps we deserved what happened.”

Trent's attention tore from me, landing on Ceri. “You don't believe that.”

Ceri was blinking to keep from crying, but a tear slid down, making her all the more beautiful. “We can start again,” she said. “So can they. The war almost destroyed both of us. Don't start it up again. Not when we finally have a chance to live. Trent. Listen to me.”

I shut my eyes.
Why doesn't it go away?

In a rush of sound, Ivy and Jenks arrived together, standing over us in shock while Ceri held Trent back from killing me.

“Hi,” I croaked, still holding my neck, and Ivy dropped to me.

“What happened?” Ivy asked, and my chest clenched to an unbearable tightness. She didn't know. How could I tell her? “You're back,” she added, checking me for damage. “Are you okay? Your mother said you went with Al at Eden Park. Damn it, Rachel, stop trying to fight everything by yourself!”

I opened my eyes at the concern in her voice. I wondered whether I should just stay in the ever-after. At least there, I wouldn't be putting my friends in danger. Kin.
Witches are kin to demons.
Suddenly it was making a whole lot of sense. Demons had cursed elves into a slow slide of extinction. Had it been done in retaliation? Had the elves hit the demons first?

“Rache, you okay?”

No. I wasn't okay, but I couldn't seem to get my mouth to work to say the words. I wasn't a demon, but my children would be. Damn it! This wasn't fair.

“Is it Trent?” Ivy said, her anger rounding on him, and I shook my head. “Get out of here, Kalamack, before I pound you into the ground!”

Ceri's delicate form helped Trent up, and as they hunched into each other, she helped him hobble to the street gate. She turned once, the tears flowing freely from her anger-black eyes. “I'm sorry, Rachel. I-I…”

I looked away, unable to bear it. I wasn't ever going to have kids now. Not with anyone. Never.
Stupid-ass elf. Look what they did to me.

“Rachel,” Ivy said, forcing me to look at her. “Tell me what happened.”

She gave me a shake, and I stared at her, numb. Jenks was on her shoulder. He looked terrified, like he already knew. “Trent,” I started, and tears spilled over. Wiping them angrily, I tried again. “Trent's dad…he…”

Jenks took to the air and got in my face. “You're not a demon, Rachel!”

I nodded, trying to focus on him. “I'm not,” I said, choking on my words. “But my kids will be. Remember last year when I said witches and demons both started in the ever-after? I think the elves spelled the demons, magically stunting their kids and starting the witches, and when Trent's dad fixed me, he broke the genetic checks and balances they put in to keep the demons from having children. Witches are stunted demons, and now demons can come from witches again. From me.”

Ivy's hand fell from me, and I saw the horror in her quiet face.

“I'm sorry,” I whispered. “I didn't mean to screw up your life.”

Ivy sat back, stunned, and the sun blinded me. Tired beyond belief, I looked up to see Ceri helping Trent out of the garden.

What in hell had it all been for?

Blue and pink baby booties had replaced the bats hanging in the sanctuary, the store-bought garland draping from one end of the sanctuary to the other. A cutout of a stork stood on the coffee table, and Ivy's piano was covered in yellow and green paper tablecloths. The white cake on it was surrounded by pixies snitching frosting. That is, the ones who weren't clustered over Ceri, ooohing over the delicate pair of baby booties and lace collar that Matalina and her older daughters had made.

The happy elf sat across from me in Ivy's chair, surrounded by pixies, wrapping paper, and gifts. She was nearly glowing, and it made me feel good. Outside, the falling rain brought darkness early, but in here, it was warm, comfortable, and full of the peace of companionship.

One month pregnant is way too soon for a baby shower
, I thought as I leaned into the cushions while Ceri read the card from my mother, the box on her lap suspiciously similar in size to a humidifier. But watching Ceri's delight, I knew it had been the right thing to do. We needed to celebrate the beginning of a life. The beginning of something.

Ivy was to my left on the couch, crammed into the corner as if she didn't know her limits anymore. She'd been like that all week, hovering
but hesitant, and it was driving me nuts. Her gift to Ceri had been the first one opened: an absolutely stunning lace christening dress of intricate beauty. Ivy had gone red at the fuss Ceri had made over it, and I was sure that Ivy had picked the delicate bit of feminine beauty out because she had given up the idea of ever having children herself. Though she never talked about it, I knew Ivy would rather remain childless than perpetuate her vampiric misery upon someone she loved, especially an innocent who was dependent on her for everything.

I squished the crumbs of my cake up with a fork as my eyes drifted to the present Jenks and I had gone in on together, wondering what it said about us. I had bought a set of redwood building blocks, and Jenks had painted garden flowers and bugs on them to go along with the alphabet. He was working on another set for his children, determined they would all know how to read before spring.

The pixies flew up in noisy delight when Ceri got the wrapping paper off and revealed a Dr. Dan's Misty Memories Humidifier with deluxe soothing atomizer built right in to “lull your baby to sleep on the most trying of nights.” I was staying out of the way, but my mother went to kneel beside Ceri as the elf seriously unpacked the thermometer and burping cloths she had put in there with it.

“Ceri, this is a lifesaver,” my mom was saying as the young-looking elf lifted the green plastic monstrosity out. “Rachel was a fussy baby, but I would just put a bit of lilac into the little cup, and she would drop right off.” She smiled at me, looking different with her new hairstyle. “And it's indispensable if your baby gets the croup. Robbie never got the croup, but Rachel, lord love a duck, she'd just about scare me to death every winter with her coughing.”

Hearing a story coming on, I picked up a few plates and stood. “Excuse me,” I said, beating a tactful retreat into the kitchen as my mom started in on the story of my nearly suffocating. Ceri looked properly horrified, and I rolled my eyes to tell her it was mostly momma drama. Mostly.

I glanced back at the scene of content femininity as the dark confines of the hall took me. My mother had gifted Ceri's baby with a wish for
health, Matalina gave the trappings of security, Ivy imparted beauty and innocence, and Jenks and I gave wisdom. Or maybe entertainment.

The kitchen held a cool quietness, and I glanced out at the graveyard and let my vision drift into my second sight to make sure Al wasn't waiting for me. The red-smeared sky of the ever-after mingled with the reality of gray clouds to make an ugly picture, and I shivered though the line was empty. He said he would call first, but I didn't trust him not to just show up and scare the crap out of everyone. Apparently Newt's claim that he had made himself destitute was right, because he said he wasn't going to bring me over until he had a kitchen that wouldn't embarrass him. I wanted my name back and that mark on my foot removed, and I think he was stalling, not wanting to lose that hold on me.

“That was a lovely shower,” my mom said from the hallway, and I jumped, startled.

“Holy crap, Mom!” I exclaimed, dropping my second sight and turning. “You're worse than Ivy.”

She smiled, a glint of devilry in her as she sashayed in, cake-strewn plates and silverware in hand. “Thank you for inviting me. I don't get to go to too many of these things.”

Hearing an accusation in there, I plugged the sink and ran some water. “Mom,” I said tiredly as I pulled out the soap, “I'm not having any kids. I'm sorry. You'll be lucky if you even get a wedding out of me.”

My mother made a rude sound, part laugh, part wise-old-woman scoffing. “I'm sure you feel that way now,” she said as she dropped the forks into the sink. “But you're young. Give it some time. You might feel differently after you've met the right man.”

I turned the water off, breathing deeply of the lemon-scented air and slipping my hands into the warm water and washing the forks. I wished she'd drop the facade of what she wanted for what was real. “Mom,” I said, voice low, “my children will be stolen by demons for the ability to kindle their magic. I'm not going to risk that.” Well, actually, they
would
be demons, thanks to Trent's dad, but there was no reason to tell her that. “I'm not going to have kids,” I said, slowly washing the plates.

“Rachel…,” my mom protested, but I shook my head, adamant.

“Kisten died because of me. Nick went over the bridge. I've got a standing date in the ever-after once a week once Al gets his act together. I'm not a good candidate for a girlfriend. Can you see me as a mother?”

My mother smiled. “Yes. I can, and you would be a good one.”

The tears pricked, and I dropped a handful of clean silverware into the dry half of the sink and ran hot water over them. I couldn't. It was too risky.

Pulling a cloth from a top drawer, my mom took the handful of clean silverware I'd dropped into the sink. “Let's say you're right,” she said, “and you don't even adopt or take in a child who needs a home. But what if you're wrong? There's someone out there who's suited for you. Someone who has enough strength or knowledge to keep themselves safe. I bet there's a foxy young man looking right now for a woman who can take care of herself and thinking he can't have anyone either.”

I smiled faintly, picturing it. “I'll place an ad, okay?” SWFW looking for SWM. Must be able to fight off demons and vampires, and be willing to put up with jealous roommate. Then I sighed in the thought that that pretty much summed up Nick and Kisten. Nick was a real winner, and Kisten was dead. Because of me. Because he had tried to save me.

My mom touched my arm, and I handed her one of Ceri's teacups.

“I just want you to be happy,” she said.

“I am,” I said confidently so I could believe it. “I really am.” But when I found out who had bitten me and killed Kisten, and then I ripped him apart, I was going to be a whole lot happier. Maybe Al knew a Pandora charm. Maybe he had a book and I could just read up on it when he was sleeping.

From the sanctuary came the masculine sound of a hello and the excited tinkling of pixy chatter. It was Quen; the party was breaking up. Passing my mom the last dish, I went more melancholy still. I had saved Quen, but not my dad. That sucked.

My mom must have known my thoughts as she gave me a sideways hug. She pulled away, but her damp hands seemed to leave a lasting impression on me. “Don't make such a sad face, Rachel. I loved your dad. But I've been hurting for so long, I forgot how to be happy. I need to…”

I nodded, knowing where she was coming from. “Put something good in its place so you can think about him without the pain?”

She nodded, giving me another tight hug as if she was trying to squeeze some of her happiness into me. “I want to help Ceri get her things back home,” she said, and I dried my hands. We left the kitchen together, my mother's arm still over me. It made me feel good, like I felt when I was little. Protected. Loved.

But when we entered the sanctuary, my arm fell away.
Takata is here, too?

The man gave me an awkward wave as he stood by the piano with his fingers in the frosting and pixies sitting on his thin shoulders. I felt a stab of emotion when my mother's demeanor changed and she went to him, delighted. She seemed younger, especially with that new haircut. Her heart was light now that the truth was out, which made me feel bad that it had taken so long for that to happen.

Ceri had her raincoat on, and seeing me standing alone, she excused herself, gathering Quen in her wake as she crossed the room. She was beautiful in her happy contentment, and I glanced at Ivy. The vampire wore a hungry look I understood. It wasn't vampiric hunger; it was the hunger from seeing someone who has what you want but knowing that if you get it, it will break your heart, your life, and your soul.

Neither of us would be having children. It was as if Ceri were having a child for all of us. Poor little baby was going to have so many aunts he or she wasn't going to walk on anything but rose petals.

“Rachel,” Ceri said, beaming as she took my hands, “thank you for the wonderful party. I never—” Her expression shifted, and tears deepened the green of her eyes. Quen touched her shoulder, and she straightened, smiling. “I never thought I'd ever do this,” she continued. “I thought I was going to die mindless in the ever-after. And now I have the sun, love, and a chance to live and have purpose.” Her grip on my hands tightened for a moment, deepening the intent behind her next words. “Thank you.”

“You're welcome,” I said, feeling the prick of tears as I mourned the loss of my own dreams. “Stop it. You're going to make me cry.”

I glanced at Quen as I wiped the corner of an eye. He was stoic, letting the estrogen flow around him as if it couldn't touch him.

Ceri's gaze flicked to him and away. “If it's a girl, we're naming her Ray. If it is a boy, Raymond.”

There was a lump in my throat, and I couldn't swallow. “Thank you.”

She leaned in and gave me a quick hug. “I have to leave. Trenton wants to poke and prod me with more tests.” The young-seeming elf rolled her eyes, and my hand slipped away.

“Then you'd better go.” Trent wasn't gunning for me, but I distrusted his silence.

Her smile went stiff, and she whispered, “Be careful with Al. If you're honest with him, he will be less likely to…hurt you. And if he gets angry, try singing.”

She pulled back, and I glanced at Quen, wondering how much of this conversation was going to end up in Trent's ears. “Okay. Thanks. I'll remember that.” I didn't know how me singing “Satisfaction” would make anything better, but the honesty thing? I could do that.

My focus sharpened on Ceri and she nodded. “I must say good-bye to Mrs. Morgan and Ivy,” Ceri said, touching Quen's arm. “Can you give me a moment?”

He gazed at her and said “Yes,” but what I heard was “I will give you the world if you but ask.”

Ceri smiled and walked away. Quen watched her go, then flushed when I cleared my throat with an attention-getting sound. “Don't worry,” I said as I put some space between us now that Ceri was gone. “I won't tell anyone you're twitterpated.”

The uncomfortable man stared at a spot behind and somewhat above me. His scar, now defunct and made silent with illegal genetic tinkering, was a white mass of tissue almost hidden behind his collar. “I don't think I thanked you for helping me,” he said evenly, “on Halloween night.”

I turned so that we were standing shoulder-to-shoulder, both watching Ceri talking to my mom and Ivy. “Yeah, well, no good deed goes unpunished.”

He inclined his head, but his expression was blank, and struck by a sudden thought, I blurted, “Hey, you do know that the familiar thing with Trent was just to get him out, right? He's not really going to be my familiar.” But there was a new shadow of a mark on my arm, mirroring Trent's. I'd assumed Newt had transferred the mark to Al, but it looked like I had it. Curious.

Quen gave me a half-smile. “He knows.” After glancing at Ceri, he leaned so no one but I could see his face. “He tried to kill you because of what his father did to you, accidentally giving the demons a way to reclaim their kin, but you're alive because you saved my life when he could not, then went on to save him at great cost to yourself when he was helpless. If not for that, you, your church, and everyone and everything in it would be razed to the ground.”

“Yeah. Okay,” I said, nervous and believing him. Trent had a right to hate me. But he owed me big. If I was lucky, he would ignore me. Quen saw Ceri saying her last good-byes, and I jiggled on my feet. I had one more thing to say, and this might be my last chance.

“Quen,” I said, the softness of my voice stopping him. “Would you tell Trent I'm sorry that I mishandled things so badly that he had to endure being treated like an animal?” The scarred man looked silently at me, and I grimaced. “I never should have taken Trent into the ever-after. I think it was an ego thing. That I was trying to prove to him that I was stronger or smarter than he was. It was stupid and egotistical…and I'm sorry.”

The man's leathery, pox-scarred face turned into a smile. Eyes drifting to Ceri, he nodded. “I'll do that.” His gaze came back to me and he extended his hand. Feeling weird, I shook it. His fingers were warm, and it was as if I could feel them on me even after he went to join Ceri to guide her slowly to the door.

The two of them left amid a flurry of noise, and much to my relief, they took a nice slice of the pixies with them. I exhaled in the subdued uproar of winged things hopped up on sugar, and my mom and Takata headed my way. She had her purse and coat, and it looked like they were leaving, too.