The Novel Free

Ever After





Chapter Twenty-One



But I want to help save the world!" Barbie said plaintively as I helped her into the backseat of the cab, my hand on her head so she didn't hit anything. Her hands were bound with those fuzzy cuffs, and it made her balance chancy. "I can help. Oh God, don't leave me here. It smells like bad tacos!"



My nose wrinkled, and I took her ID tag from around her neck and stuffed it in a back pocket. "Larry gets one of the no-frill blacks, Susan the pumpkin, and Frank the chai, right?"



Jenks hovered over the roof of the cab, impatient. "You're gonna be late for your first day," he warned.



"Yes, but I can help!" she insisted, and I leaned back in to wiggle her shoes off. I hadn't worn the right heels, and the doppelganger charm would only glamour me to look like her. It would be more convincing if we were the same height.



"Trust me," I said as I shifted out of the backseat. "You're helping. Really."



I stood and looked over the empty park, hoping no one was watching from the town houses across the way. Ivy was bent over talking to the cabdriver, giving him a wad of cash and a peek at her cleavage as she told him to take the woman to the hospital-the mental hospital. By law, they had to give everyone who was dropped off an exam, and with the story Barbie had, they'd give her the long version. It was the best I could come up with on such short notice, not very nice, but better than stuffing her in the trunk of her car or leaving her tied up somewhere.



"Good?" I asked the driver, and he met my eyes through the rearview mirror, nodding.



"Wait!" Barbie cried, as I shut the door and she pounded on it with her fuzzy-cuffed wrists. "How will I know?" she shouted, muffled but understandable through the glass. I motioned for the driver to roll the window down, and she leaned toward me, breathless. "How will I know if you save the world?"



The really, really long version. "If we're all still here Saturday, then it worked," I said, then patted the top of the cab to let him know we were done.



"I want to help!" the woman cried as they drove off, and Ivy crossed the pavement to stand beside me. Jenks flitted close with a strand of Barbie's hair, and using it, I primed the doppelganger charm. The ley line up here was barely usable on the best of days, running right through the man-made ponds and under the Twin Lakes Bridge, but now, with the lines unbalanced and screaming in discord, it was awful.



I shuddered as I invoked the charm and dropped it into a pocket. Jenks made a long whistle, and Ivy nodded. I looked at my hands, seeing nothing different, but obviously they could. Even my voice would sound like hers. Illegal. Everything we were doing was illegal, and not for the first time, I wondered how I'd gotten to this place, doing illegal things to help Trent. Help him save the world.



Maybe I should be the one in the cab going to the hospital.



Seeing my mood, Ivy put an arm over my shoulders and turned me back to the cars. "You were nice," Ivy said as we crossed the night-cooled pavement. "Nicer than I'd have been. She'll have an interesting morning and be home for lunch. Don't beat yourself up about it."



"I don't like involving her," I said as we came up to Barbie's car. "And trying to be her is going to get us caught. I can't be a real person."



"Yeah," Jenks said as he checked himself out in the side mirror. "She's too bouncy."



Frowning, I opened the door and sat down, my feet still on the pavement. "Have you ever tried to be someone you're not?" I said as I pulled off my boots, tossing them into the back, and put on Barbie's heels.



"All the time." Ivy wasn't looking at me, her eyes on the Hollows across the river.



"That's not what I meant," I said, then used Barbie's keys to start Barbie's car. I didn't like this. Not at all. But I needed those rings, and this was the only way to get them.



Ivy looked at me through the open window. I could still smell Barbie's perfume, and it made me uncomfortable. "You okay with this, or you want to scrap it right now?"



Jenks hovered behind her, and I put the car in reverse to back out. She knew as well as I there was no choice. Still, I stewed over it all the short drive to the art museum, becoming more and more angry. The only reason we were trying this on such short notice was because I was familiar with the layout. Nick had worked here, and he'd given me a private tour on more than one occasion. The entire basement was a maze of storage and offices, and that's where the showpieces would be until the night before the exhibit opened.



Ivy was behind me in her mom's blue Buick as I pulled into the museum's parking lot. Knowing it would be what Barbie would do, I parked in a spot where no one would scratch the paint, finding a place that would be in the shade come noon. Ivy slowly drove past, headed for a spot closer to the door. She was going in as a patron and had a sketch pad and folding chair. Once I got downstairs, Jenks would give her my ID and she'd come down in the far elevator, clearing our exit en route.



The coffees were cold when I picked up the bag and slid out, and after locking the car, I crouched to put the key on the front wheel where I had promised Barbie I would leave it. Not wanting to ruin my story with cold coffee, I reached for a ley line and warmed them up with a charm, my thoughts firmly on the dark, bitter brew so I didn't warm up, say, the radiator of the car. Ceri had taught me this one, and thoroughly unhappy, I stomped to the main entrance, the unfamiliar heels making me trip on the curb.



I didn't look up as Jenks rejoined me, having ridden to the museum with Ivy. Silent, he worked his way past my hair, now down like Barbie had hers. "She'll be fine," Jenks said as he resettled himself behind the curtain of my hair.



I didn't like that I was telegraphing so much, and I said nothing. Barbie probably wouldn't come to work in black slacks and a sweater that covered her cleavage, but I had an excuse for that, too. Late, I took the stairs at a mincing hurry, fumbling for my ID.



"These heels are killing me," I muttered to Jenks when I got to the top and the security guy cracked open the door for me.



"Relax, Rache. You're sweating."



Yes, I was sweating. I didn't like this. I had abducted a woman and was pretending to be her. It was daylight. And I couldn't shake the feeling that Nick was somewhere watching me.



"Hey! Hi! I'm late!" I said cheerfully, trying to match Barbie's bouncy attitude when I reached the door. "Some witch spilled her coffee all over me and I had to go home and change."



Larry-by his name tag-smiled and held the door as I slid in before him. "You got five minutes," he said, and I hesitated just inside the echoing space. Crap, I'd forgotten which one he was supposed to get.



"You'd better hustle, though," the man said, eyes alight as he took one of the tall, no-nonsense black coffees. "Bull is on the warpath."



My brief relief that he knew which was which died. Bull? I thought, then juggled the remaining coffee to get my ID to show. "Thanks for the heads-up," I said, rolling my eyes because it seemed the right thing to do.



"Thank you." He hoisted the coffee in salute, hiding it behind his security podium when a masculine shout echoed from somewhere deep inside.



I gave him a last smile, then turned away, heart pounding. Barbie worked the information/security stand just across the lobby, but there were two, and I wasn't sure which one to go to. The elevator to the basement was through the Great Hall, but there was a stairway across from Larry's post that only the employees, and their ex-girlfriends, knew about. My heels clacked on the marble floor, and I angled to the woman watching me from the information booth. I was willing to bet that was Susan.



"Barb!" a high, masculine voice called, and I smiled at Susan when our eyes met.



Jenks's wings tickled my neck. "Ah, Barbie?" he prompted, and that first call registered.



Feeling out of control, I spun to the guy in the tweed vest hanging out of the museum gift shop. "Girl, where's my chai!" he called good-naturedly, and I reversed my direction. I was guessing this was Frank.



"Sorry!" I gushed as I hustled to him, my voice raised in the echoing space as Jenks darted off my shoulder, zipping up and into the ductwork to find the main security junction. "I am so ditzy this morning. Some witch at Jun-ah, at Mark's spilled her coffee all over me and I had to run home to change. I haven't been able to think two straight thoughts in a row since!"



Frank took the chai tea, a smile on his face. "Thank God . . . ," he drawled, running an eye up and down my outfit. "That swill they serve in the cafeteria sucks. Honestly, I don't know why you don't wear black more often. It's classic, and with that figure of yours, you can get away with it. Go on now. You'd better make with the busywork. He's on the warpath. Some tight-ass is jerking his chain, and we peons get the horns."



My smile took on an honest warmth as he took a sip, waving me off. "Thanks," I said, guessing they had a good friendship, and he smiled right back and sipped his drink.



"Damn, girl!" he exclaimed dramatically. "How did you get it here so hot!"



Larry was opening the doors to the public as I hustled to the last woman. Her polyester navy-blue suit with a white blouse screamed tour guide, and her eyebrows were high at my black outfit. "Susan," I blurted before she could say anything. "Oh my God! You wouldn't believe the morning I've had." Nervous, I slid behind the counter, praying I was doing this right. "How's the Bull?"



Susan took the pumpkin latte, and I exhaled in relief, glad I got to keep the straight-up black. "He's on fire," she said, making an mmm of appreciation and wiping the foam from her lips. "Something about that new elf exhibit. Thanks, this is good this morning. Black is a new look for you. What's up?"



I shrugged, not wanting to sit down and claim the space until I knew it was mine. "A witch dumped her coffee on me. You like the purse?" I lifted my shoulder bag for her inspection. "It doesn't match, but I was in a hurry." Susan shrugged, and I set my bag on the counter beside my coffee. "Elf exhibit?" I prompted, scanning the security cameras at the ceiling for Jenks's dust. We'd had zero time to plan this, and though I liked working by the seat of my pants, I didn't want everything to come tumbling down because of new security.



Coffee in hand, Susan eyed the first people coming in. "Something about the security not being adequate. Here they come. Is it Friday yet?"



"Don't push it," I whispered. Hand to my middle, I fell back, not wanting to do a tour. Just inside the door were two moms and three kids. They were getting their strollers and diaper bags arranged as the kids hooted, listening to their voices echo. Behind them, Larry gave Ivy's sketch bag a cursory glance. She got the all-clear, and the stately woman strode by the young moms with their kids with a tight-jawed stance at the lack of planning, but under it was a wistful need.



"I don't feel so good," I said, still standing behind the information counter as if I belonged. Susan seemed to think I did, and I was going to go with it.



"You look awful," Susan said, eyeing me in concern. "Sit, will you? You're making me nervous. I'll take the first tour."



"Thanks," I whispered, sinking down.



"And while you're there, organize the brochures, will you?" she added cheerfully, grabbing a map and going out to meet the moms, now trying to get their kids and move forward.



I gave her a sour look when she simpered at me over her shoulder. It was the right thing to do, apparently. Ivy was gone, and I looked to the hallway that led to the stairs and employee break room. I was anxious for Jenks to get back. The less I had to play tour guide Barbie, the better.



"Good morning!" Susan said, maps in hand as she approached the two women. "We're gathering a tour up in the Great Hall if you're interested. It takes about forty minutes and is free. I'll be along in about five minutes if you want to wait."



Jenks dropped down, scaring the crap out of me, and I coughed to hide my surprise. "Ivy is setting up beside the elevator that will take her down to the basement," he said, grinning because he had made me jump. "I'm going to trip an alarm in the courtyard. Don't go until it trips the second time. Got it?"



"Second alarm, got it," I said, waving his dust away before Susan turned and saw it.



"Soon as you're downstairs, I'll do a flyby for your ID and take the elevator up for Ivy."



It wasn't a bad plan, but I knew the maybes were driving Ivy crazy. "Got it. Second alarm. Go!" I hissed as Susan gave up on the two women and started back, maps smacking her thigh.



Giving me a thumbs-up, Jenks dropped down below the level of the counter and flew off at ankle height, his sparkles making a brief flash against the marble floor.



"Any bets?" Susan leaned against the counter like a tired tourist. I stared at her blankly, and she looked at her watch and added, "If I get out of here before Bull shows up?"



"Ahh . . ." I hedged, and she leaned to look down the hallway and into the Great Hall.



"Damn, they aren't going to wait," she said, dropping back a step. "Barb, I'm going to go snag them. I do not want to be sitting here for the next hour. If anyone else comes in, send them down. I'll keep them in the Great Hall until the tour is supposed to start."



I made a face as if I was going to protest, and then an irritating whine of an alarm shrilled into existence. My pulse quickened, and I spun the fake rings on my fingers. "Go," I said, wanting to be out of here. "It's probably nothing." She hesitated, and I added, "You're going to lose them."



Her breath a quick exhale, she reached over the counter and grabbed a tour guide flag. "Thanks. I owe you."



Her heels click-clacked away, just as the alarm cut out. "No, thank you," I said dryly, then waved to Frank standing at the opening to the gift shop. He abruptly ducked inside, and I spun my chair to see three men striding importantly through the lobby and toward the cafe. One was in a suit and tie, one in a security uniform, and the third was maintenance. Way to go, Jenks!



"Barb!" the man in the suit exclaimed when we made eye contact, his pace never slowing. "I want to talk to you. Where's Sue?"



I spun my chair nonchalantly. "Tour," I said, scanning the ceiling for pixy dust.



"Don't go anywhere." His head dropped and he barked into a handheld radio, "I want an answer now, not in five minutes!"



Just as they vanished into the corridor, the alarm began again. I smiled at the masculine, PG-13 swearing. Frank was laughing. I could see him shaking through the glass walls.



It was time to go, and I grabbed my shoulder bag and dropped the BACK IN FIVE MINUTES sign on the counter. "Bathroom!" I mouthed to Frank when he noticed, and he nodded and went back to testing out the headphones for the "soothing sounds" display.



Alarm still shrieking, I angled to the employees' restroom, waving to Larry and heading down the cold stairwell to run Barb's card through the reader at the bottom.



Cement walls painted white and a tile floor put down in the 1960s met me, grimed in the corners and looking like they hadn't been washed in five years. Heart pounding, I fingered the doppelganger charm in my pocket, eager to get rid of it. My heels were noisy, and I passed the break room trying to be quiet when I heard the hum of a microwave.



"Barb!" someone shouted, stopping me cold.



Shit. "Yeah?"



"Bull is looking for you."



I exhaled. "Why do you think I'm down here?"



Whoever it was laughed, and I hustled down the corridor, taking my heels off as I went and stuffing them in my shoulder bag. I had a rough idea where the show was being stored, and I wove through the maze, thankful that Nick had given me the grand tour.



The sound of Jenks's wings slowly became obvious. "How long we got?" I said when he hummed around a corner, taking it tight so his dust made a wide arc.



"Depends how long that alarm stays on," he said, and as if mentioning it had been the trigger, it went off. "Seven minutes," he muttered. "Where's the elven crap?"



"We should have done this at night," I said, as he flew off faster than I could run.



"They have dogs at night!" he said, hovering before a pane of glass for a second before going to the next.



The floors now had carpet squares, and air smelled like lemons instead of tuna fish. We were close, and I fingered Barb's ID. "I like dogs," I said, peeking into the room though Jenks already had. "Dogs and I get along great." Seven minutes? It was going to be close.



"Rache!"



Three doors down, he was dusting heavily, and I jogged forward. Before I even got there, he had darted under the door. I looked past the glass to see long tables covered with artifacts in cases ready for display. My heart pounded.



"Got it!" Jenks sang out. "Run your card!"



Smug, I ran my card, and the door clicked open. Barb wasn't cleared to be down here, but thanks to Jenks, the door's security system was recording the last number that had been used.



"Go," I said as I went in, my fingers already unhooking the lanyard to lighten the load. Jenks snatched it, his flight bobbling as he headed down the hallway to the elevators. I didn't like separating like this, but if all went well, Ivy would join us soon.



"Like clockwork," I said as I shut the door behind him and turned. Riffletic, I thought as I scanned the room for the rings. I needed the pair donated by Riffletic. They were perfect, and probably exactly what Riffletic's estate said they were, seeing as I had found two confirmations of it in Trent's books. Crap, I'd forgotten to take those back this morning.



I took the doppelganger charm off, shuddering as I felt the magic leave me. I smiled when I saw the rings were all together in one case, and I scanned the little cards under each one, concentrating on the few that had pairs of rings. Slowly my smile drained away. No Riffletic.



Concerned, I paced through the entire exhibit, thinking that such valuable rings as elven wedding bands might have been given their own case. Statues, books, pictures, and even an ancient tea set, but no more rings.



"Son of a bitch!" I whispered, hearing the sound of soft-soled shoes in the hallway, then pausing when I spotted two of the three tarot cards I'd once seen hanging in Trent's great room. Had the Riffletic family pulled their rings from the show upon hearing I wanted them?



The card reader beeped, and annoyed, I spun to the door. "Where are Riffletic's rings?" I asked Ivy as she came in, then froze when I realized it wasn't Ivy.



A smallish woman in a businesslike skirt and lab coat was standing there, staring at me. Her glasses were thick, and she had a folder in her hand and a sketch of what looked like a gallery. "Who are you?" she said, clearly affronted. "You're not supposed to be down here."



Crap on toast! I thought, scrambling, then decided to play it to the hilt. "I said, where are Riffletic's rings?" I repeated tartly, wishing I had a clipboard or something. A clipboard and a hard hat could get you just about anywhere. "I flew all the way here to pick up some stupid rings, and I don't see them. Who are you?"



Head tilted, the woman eyed me suspiciously. "I'm Marcie. I'm arranging the displays for the show. And Riffletic's rings have already been picked up."



"Well, that's obvious," I said, hand slapping my thigh as if she was being stupid. "If Riffletic's rings are not on display, then the Cumberland estate wants their pieces back as well."



The woman frowned, and I added with a sniff, "There seems to be some question as to the safety of your facility. My God, I got down here with no problem at all."



Marcie looked at her open file folder. "I don't have a record of any Cumberland pieces."



"You lost our rings? What kind of rinky-dink museum are you!"



"We are one of the oldest art museums in the United States," she said hotly. "Don't move." Never taking her eyes off me, she backed up to a landline phone. It looked like it had been down here since they put the carpet squares in.



"Me moving will not be an issue. I'm not leaving until I have the rings in my possession," I said, haughty. Damn it, Ivy, where are you? "I can't believe you misplaced them."



"Who did you say you were?" she asked, and we both looked up as the door beeped.



Ivy, I thought in relief, then choked when Nick walked in, cool and calm in a pinstripe gray suit and a blue tie. I almost didn't recognize him with his hair slicked back and his shiny shoes. Because of him, Ceri and Pierce are dead. It was all I could do not to crawl over the tables between us. I clenched my teeth when our eyes met and he smiled.



The woman set the receiver back in the cradle. "And who are you?" she asked, pushing her glasses farther up her nose.



He beamed, reaching behind his coat for his wallet. "Nick Sparagmos. FIB," he said, and I couldn't help my bark of laughter. "Thank God you found her," he added, grimacing at me and flipping his wallet open to show an ID. He closed it before Marcie could do more than lean to look, stuffing it away where he'd gotten it from. "Hands in fists on the top of your head," he said to me. "Don't make this hard on yourself."



Why, are we surrounded? I thought sourly, but he was between me and the door. Ku'Sox might drop into him, and then I'd be banned from the museum for blowing it up or setting it on fire, or . . . something. I slid away from the table I was leaning against. "You touch me, and you die, Nick." Damn it, how was I going to get the rings now? Not only were they gone, but if I took my second choice, he'd know and tell Ku'Sox.



The woman looked from me to Nick. "Someone better tell me what's going on," she threatened, and I leaned back, gesturing for Nick to say something, dying to find out, myself.



"This is Le'Arch, the notorious art thief from the United Kingdom," Nick said, pointing at me as he came in. "Have you searched her yet?"



"Oh. My. God," I said, not sure I'd heard him right. "Nick, please tell me you did not just make an anagram of my name. Please. Just please."



His jaw clenched, and he took another step forward. He was almost far enough from the door that I had a good chance of making it through, but without the rings-which were not even here anymore-I was dead anyway. "She has a history of claiming to be agents of big corporations and walking away with priceless artifacts," he said, and the woman's hand came away from the phone.



How long had he been listening at the door, and where in hell were Jenks and Ivy?



Well, Nick wasn't the only one who could tell pretty stories. "Marcie, this jerk is my old boyfriend. He doesn't work for the FIB, and he's been stalking me all week. The man is a thief."



Nick stiffened. "I'm a thief?" he said, looking odd in his new clothes as he advanced another step. "I'm not the one stealing ancient elven artifacts to break the ley lines. You are a menace, and I'm trying to stop you."



"How dare you blame me for that!" I shouted. "I'm trying to stop him!" His jaw clenched, and I turned to Marcie. The woman hadn't picked up the phone, but she was ready to. "Marcie, I'm sorry," I said, still trying to turn this into a stalker boyfriend issue. "I'm going to file a restraining order as soon as I get out of here. He doesn't work for the FIB, and he's lying to you to get me in trouble with my boss. If I don't get those rings out of here, I'm a dead woman." True enough.



Nick made an exasperated sound when Marcie looked at him with doubt, starting to believe me. "Neither of you move."



"Has she taken any pieces yet?" Nick said, but it sounded desperate. "What rings did she ask after?"



Marci's eyes narrowed, her belief swinging back to him. "Riffletic's."



Nick leaned to see the ring case. "There's a pair missing."



"There is not!" I said, affronted, but Marcie had already pulled away from her corner, rushing to look. "No!" I exclaimed when she lowered her head to see and Nick grabbed a heavy vase. It hit the back of her head without breaking, and the woman hung for a heartbeat, eyes wide as she slowly collapsed.



"You son of a bitch!" I said, lunging forward to catch her, my bare feet burning on the carpet squares as I struggled with her weight. "What in hell are you doing? Now it's assault!"



The door beeped, and Nick barely got out of the way as Ivy yanked it open. "I say we return the favor and get the hell out of here," she said as Jenks flew in, sword bared and his dust a dismal blue. Something bad had happened. Where is Jax?



I carefully lowered Marcie to the floor, rising up mad enough to plow my fist right between his smiling teeth as Nick backed out of Ivy's easy reach. He was still Ku'Sox's toy. I could tell. "What are you doing down here?" Nick said idly, his head tilted so he could eye a row of artifacts and me at the same time.



Jenks landed on Ivy's shoulder, clearly distressed. "Can we just get out of here?"



But I didn't have the rings yet, and at a loss, I shook my head.



Nick's smile widened. "Don't have what you came for?" he mocked, running a finger on a glass case to leave an obvious mark.



"You got Pierce and Ceri killed," I accused. "How dare you smile at me."



His smile vanished, but I couldn't tell if his sudden contriteness was real or contrived. "I'm sorry about that. I didn't know he was going to kill them."



"He's a psychotic demon!" I shouted, then lowered my voice when Jenks's wings hummed a warning and he darted into the hall. "He doesn't need a reason to kill people, just a reason not to. You are one dumb warlock," I said with a sneer. "Ku'Sox is going to kill you, too."



Nick chuckled, tugging his sleeves down to cover his cuffs. On Trent, it looked good; on him, it looked nervous. "Ku'Sox needs me." Hands on his knees, he leaned over the case of rings. "Mmm. Riffletic rings? I understand they were pulled. Weren't they the elven wedding bands? Seriously?" He straightened. "Better than chastity, I suppose."



Ivy had inched closer, and seeing it, Nick shook his head, stopping her. He still belonged to Ku'Sox, and I didn't want the demon showing up. If we were going to take Nick out, it would have to be fast. But I didn't know if that really mattered anymore. My plan was royally flushed. Ku'Sox wasn't stupid. Three seconds after Nick told him what we were after, he would have it figured out. Maybe I could make that work for me.



"Ku'Sox doesn't need you," I said caustically, and Nick looked up from the display as if I was being stupid. "Or maybe I should say he won't. Thanks to Trent, those Rosewood babies don't need your lame enzymes. The only reason he hasn't eaten you yet is because you're spying on me."



Nick smiled as if giving a benediction. "As I said, he needs me."



"Yeah? For how long?" I said. Clearly distressed, Jenks hovered just outside in the hall at the ceiling. He tapped his wrist like a watch. Ivy wasn't close enough, though. "Maybe you haven't noticed, but I've got an expiration date," I added. "You're going to be deadweight after tomorrow, whatever happens."



Nick frowned, his fingers twitching.



"Didn't think about that, did you, crap for brains?"



His head came up. "You know nothing." He looked at Ivy. "Stop moving, vampire."



Ivy rocked back. "Cut it short or bring him," she said. "We have to go."



"Bring him?" I barked, my chin lifting. Then I said to Nick, "There is no hole deep enough or dark enough to hide you when Ku'Sox decides he's done with you and pulls your plug."



Arms swinging, I headed for the door, figuring he'd get close enough to smack him if he thought I was leaving.



Sure enough, he reached for me, and I let him grab my arm. "We used to be good," he said, eyes angry.



"Yeah? Well, I used to be stupid!"



Grabbing his wrist, I spun to put my back to his front, and levered him right over my shoulder. He hit the floor in front of me with a groan, and Ivy was there, her long arm against his neck even though he was out. Jenks flew in at the noise, hovering over us.



"When do you want him to wake up?" she said, and my lip curled.



Jenks's dust was still that depressed blue. "How about never?" he suggested. There was a long tear in his new clothes. Jax?



"Ten minutes," I said in disgust, and she let go, shoving him across the narrow walkway to slide into a lower cupboard.



"I like Jenks's idea better," she said as she got up.



"Yeah! What's up, Rache?" Jenks snarled. "You know he doesn't deserve it."



I nodded as I turned back to the rings. "We all have a part to play," I said as I looked over the selection. Time was pressing on me, making me jittery. It couldn't be because Nick was helpless on the floor and I was walking away.



Ivy smelled of darkness and earth as she eased up beside me. "Anything you take he'll know and tell Ku'Sox."



"The ones I really wanted are gone, anyway," I said, wishing I had my cheat sheet, then remembering Marcie had one. "Jenks, check Marcie's sketch there. Who donated the demon slave rings?" Slave rings. This was a mistake. This was a mistake in a big way, but I had to take a huge leap if I was going to survive.



He whistled, his dust a shade brighter as he darted to the woman and leafed through her papers. "Ahh, Cabenoch." He flew up, his dust settling on the velvet background to look like stars on a moonless light. "Cabenoch. That's German, isn't it?"



"It's elvish," I said, finding the rings I wanted. Something in me quivered seeing them there, plain circles of battered metal. They were both tarnished, but one looked as if it had been on a hand that had never seen dirt, and the other had never seen the sun. Slavers. That would work, though it curled my lip thinking about reinvoking them.



"Okay. It's rigged, right?" I said, and Ivy carefully slid the entire box almost entirely off the table. Jenks darted under it, and from the door, Marcie groaned. We had maybe thirty seconds. I didn't want to hit her again. "Jenks?" I prompted, and a wash of depressed blue bathed our feet.



"Standard stuff," he said, not coming out. "I dusted you about ten seconds of electronic memory, so make it fast. Ready?"



I nodded, eyeing the rings I wanted and pulling the fake ones off my finger.



"I still don't see how this is going to help," Ivy griped. "He's going to know the ones you took."



"Just hold it still," I muttered. "Ready, Jenks?"



"On my mark . . . go!" he said, and I opened the lid, feeling a pull of a magnetic field. Breath held, I grabbed the rings, slipping them both on my index finger as I dropped the fake rings in their place. Ivy's eyes widened when I then moved the "donated by" card, then another.



"How long, Jenks?" I said. "Give me a count!"



"Four, three," he said, me moving cards like a con artist on the corner. "Two," he said, and I pulled my hands out, shutting the lid. "One!"



My eyes met Ivy's, and she exhaled. Muscles easily managing the weight, she slid it back onto the table. Jenks flew up, and all three of us looked at the lumps of metal sitting in my hand. They felt as dead as they looked, but something in me quivered. I could bring them back to life. I could make this anew. Demon slavers. I shuddered.



"Can we go now?" Jenks said, his dust still that dismal blue, and I nodded, not looking back at Nick as I walked out the door.



Next time I had the chance, he wouldn't be so lucky.



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