The Witch With No Name

The light past the front desk was decidedly gray. We were getting close to the mark. My eyes went to the elevators and the Were fidgeting in a borrowed uniform keeping the lift at the lobby for us. The Weres had cleared the building with the understanding that they’d not be involved in a magical firefight. I could understand their reluctance. Even the I.S. didn’t send a Were out after a witch, much less a bunch of elves. “Jenks, does Ivy know about Lucy?” I asked, and he dusted a silent yes.

Trent took my elbow. “We don’t need Ivy,” he muttered as we angled to the ornate elevators, and he frowned when I made the finger sign for “be ready to move.”

Ivy’s eyes shifted to black. Her motions graceful and holding purpose, she swooped to answer the phone. A professional, polished greeting flowed from her, but I could see the tension growing. It was falling apart even before we got started.

“I said I have this,” Trent said again, his voice agitated as we got in the elevator.

“I never said you didn’t.” I pulled back in the tight confines of the lift. He was sending off sparks, and it was irritating.

Jenks smirked, smacking the button for the sixth floor, and the doors closed. “There’s a small contingent of Weres up there, but they won’t show unless you scream for them,” Jenks said, and Trent exhaled some of his tension. “We’re going in blind,” the pixy added, miffed.

“Because of the keyed locks, right?” I said.

“Yes, because of the keyed locks,” Jenks said, hands on his hips. “Most of the doors fit too tightly against the floor, too. Tink-blasted fire codes. I can go in through the ductwork, but I don’t know the layout and it would take at least twenty minutes.”

We didn’t have twenty minutes, and I caught myself before I chewed on my lower lip.

“That’s why I got rid of my card system,” Trent said, but his brow was pinched and it was obvious he was thinking of Lucy. “We can’t go in spells flying if my daughter is in there.”

“We won’t,” I said as the doors opened.

“Then how are we going to do this?” he asked, tight on my heels as I followed Jenks into the elevator lobby.

“I don’t know yet.” My nose wrinkled. The scent of Were was thick up here, and there were signs of a scuffle, hastily cleaned up: the flower vase had no water, and there was a petal stuck to the glass that never would have passed inspection.

“Rachel . . . ,” Trent prompted, and I hesitated, seeing his worry for his daughter, for me, for his people.

“I don’t know, but I’ll be taken and beaten before I hurt Lucy.”

Jenks was waiting at the end of the hall, and my stomach tightened as I counted down the room numbers. Lucy was in one of them, probably the one with the crib.

“Which one?” Trent whispered as we came to the suite of rooms.

“Give me your phone,” I said as I had a sudden idea and held my hand out. “Lucy is probably with Ellasbeth, right?” I scrolled through Trent’s numbers called to find her. Trent nodded, eyes widening as I punched a button and put the phone to an ear. “So we find out what room she’s in.”

“Works for me,” Jenks said, hovering between us.

Trent’s cell was ringing, and we stared at the twin doors before us—waiting. There was only a muted conversation from a TV. My pulse hammered, and then, so soft as to almost be imagined, the repeated ping of an incoming call rang from a tiny speaker.

It was coming from behind us.

I spun. Jenks darted to one of the doors across the hall, pointing at it with exaggerated excitement. I slid Trent’s phone away and took up the smooth feel of cool steel instead.

“No spells,” Trent hissed.

“You think I’m going to shoot Lucy?” I said tartly.

Frowning, he took up a position on one side of the door, and I took the other. “Housekeeping,” I whispered, trying to keep the key from scraping as I fit it, but it was the master key and it needed some persuasion.

“Let me.” Trent wrenched the handle and the key at the same time, and the lock clicked open.

Jenks zipped in before the door was even half an inch out of the frame. “Moss-wipe elf!” he exclaimed, and Trent shoved the door open in a panic. “Tink’s a Disney whore. Rache!”

Panicked, Trent lurched in, leaving me to try to get the key out of the lock so I could shut the door. That call might have carried, and the last thing I wanted was Landon to find us.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Jenks shrilled, and I finally got the key free. “I think you got him!”

Flushed, I shoved the door shut and bolted into the outer sitting room. Trent had one knee on the back of a big, blond, and unconscious man. The scent of ozone was thick, and Jenks’s dust sparked as it picked up the unspent magic. Behind them, Ellasbeth watched with wide eyes. She was tied to a chair and gagged, and my lips parted. Ellasbeth was tied to a chair? Oh, she was pissed, too, her face red and muffled shouts trying to escape around her gag. I wasn’t sure I wanted to untie her. Shaking with adrenaline, Trent looked up at me, then Ellasbeth. He made no move to untie her either, and the woman jumped in the chair, furious.

“Nicely done, Mr. Kung Fu!” Jenks said, clearly impressed. “You didn’t kill him this time!”

This time? I inched in. “Jenks, are we clear?”

“Yep.” He was grinning, hands on his h*ps as he looked at Ellasbeth’s fury.

Trent dropped the unconscious man’s gun. Face white, he strode to Ellasbeth and yanked the gag down. “Where’s Lucy?”

Ellasbeth took a gasping breath. “That son of a bitch!” she raved, blond hair in her mouth, her eyes everywhere. “He’s crazy! He’s going to kill the ley lines! He’s going to end magic!”

“Where is Lucy, Ellasbeth?” Trent demanded, and then his head snapped around at a delighted “Daddy!” from the back room.

I stumbled out of the way as Trent bolted to her. I couldn’t help my smile when I heard Lucy calling again, her little-child voice raised in delight. “Daddy, Daddy, Daddy! Surprise!”

Jenks was at the door, looking in at them even as he hovered backward to me. “I love reunions,” he said, his dust shifting to a melancholy orange.

I looked at the clock on the wall, my smile fading. “Go get Ivy, will you?” I said, and Jenks’s dust shifted gray. Trent was out of it, and I needed help.

“You got it.” Jenks darted through the door and into the hallway as I opened it a crack.

“How about some help here?” Ellasbeth said bitterly.

Sighing, I listened to the quiet hallway, deciding everything was okay before I shut the door. “He tied you up, huh?” I asked as I used the downed elf’s knife to cut her bonds.

“Landon is a philistine,” she said, rubbing her wrists and wiggling her ankles for me to hurry up. “He’s tricking his own people into ending magic with the promise of killing all the demons. You can’t kill demons without magic. What if they aren’t pulled back? How do you do magic without the lines? You don’t!” She hesitated at the soft scuff at the bedroom door, her face going white as she looked at Trent standing there with Lucy on his hip, the little girl patting at his frown lines.

“Hi, Mommy,” she said, wiggling her feet. “Surprise!”

I blinked when a little purple rocking horse with wings suddenly appeared and Lucy squealed in delight. Al had taught her a new trick.

“Trent . . .”

Ellasbeth tried to stand, and I shoved her back down. Ticked, the woman frowned at me. “He’s using the vampires’ undead souls as an excuse to break the lines,” she said. “We have to stop him. With the lines broken, the ever-after—”

“Will shrink and implode on itself,” I said blandly, interrupting her as I freed her feet.

“How do you know that?”

Finished, I rocked back and slowly stood, deciding to keep the knife. “Because I stopped Ku’Sox from doing the same thing. It must have given Landon the idea.”

She started to move, and I shook my head. “Stay put.”

“I didn’t know that was his plan,” Ellasbeth said, peeved but flicking nervous glances at the man Trent had downed. “I never meant it to get this out of hand. I only wanted to scare you, Trent. I’m so sorry.”

Trent’s white face wasn’t going away. Lucy was singing as she sat on his hip, and his expression became frightened as his eyes met mine. “I can’t,” he said, those two words almost tearing him in two.

“Daddy, where’s Ray-Ray?”

I swallowed hard as I remembered him forcing Lucy into my arms and demanding I leave, Trent willingly becoming Ku’Sox’s slave to save her. “Don’t worry about it,” I said softly, and Ellasbeth looked between us, her lips pressed as she tried to figure it out. “Jenks is getting Ivy. Get them both out of here.”

“What?” Ellasbeth said as I pulled her to her feet. “Hey!”

Angry, I took out a little of my misplaced aggression on her, pinching her shoulder and getting in her face. “You want to be tied up again?” I said sharply, and her anger flashed to fear. “Then get out of here.”

The man at my feet moved, and I pulled out my splat gun and shot him in the back. With a little sigh, he collapsed. Ellasbeth looked at him, then me, standing before her with a gun in one hand, a knife in the other. Slowly I handed the knife to Trent, who double-sheathed it with his own longer knife. “I suggest you go fast and quiet,” I added.

“Where’s-s-s-s-s Ray-Ray!” Lucy bubbled, clearly not frightened, but hey, the girl had been kidnapped three times now.

Smiling, Trent jiggled her on his hip. “Shhh, Lucy. We have to be quiet to go find Ray.”

The little girl bounced happily, then suddenly concentrated on her fingers until she got them to snap. The flying rocking horse exploded into a puff of pink smoke, and the little girl laughed, delighted. If we survived this, I was going to have to talk to Al about the spells little girls should and shouldn’t know.

But she was being way too loud, and as Ellasbeth darted around the room gathering her purse, her coat, her heels . . . whatever, I turned to Lucy, worried they wouldn’t get down that first crucial hallway. Trent wasn’t having much luck as Lucy kept making and exploding winged horses into little pink clouds “Lucy?” I said suddenly. “Do you want to play hide-and-seek?”

Trent sighed as Lucy stopped bouncing, her eyes going wide as she covered them. “Shhh,” she whispered, then flung her hands from her, smacking Trent in the face as she cried out, “Here I am!”

Smiling, I tugged her sweater straight. “That’s right. But you have to be quiet to find Ray. Shhhh. Ready?”

Trent’s free hand touched my waist, and I froze.

“Rachel . . . I . . .”

The door opened and I spun, relaxing when Jenks darted in, Ivy shutting the door softly behind herself.

“Just go,” I said, resisting the urge to straighten his hat after Lucy knocked it. “Ivy and I have this.”

Ellasbeth shrugged her long coat, looking at us as if jealous. “You can’t stop him without elven magic.”

“Watch us,” I said, my confidence faltering.

Jenks’s wings hummed. “Guys, my pixy sense is tingling.”

Trent stiffened. “It’s the curse. He’s starting it.”

“Then you’d better get going,” I said, shoving him to the hallway. “Ellasbeth, where are they?”

The woman’s lips pressed together. Ivy’s eyes shifted to black, and Jenks’s wings clattered a warning. But then Lucy giggled, and Ellasbeth’s shoulders slumped. “He’s across the hall,” she said. “But you can’t stop him. He’s got like six men in there.”

Jenks snickered, and my eyes flicked to the one who had been guarding her. I was going to miss Trent’s help, but hell, I’d been doing this long before I learned he was worth my trust. And to be honest, it would be easier if I wasn’t worrying about him.

Ready, I looked at Ivy, waiting by the door. Jenks was hovering at her shoulder, and I knew we had this. “Go,” I said, and Trent shifted Lucy on his hip.

“Thank you,” he said, eyes glinting as he hesitated briefly in front of me before putting a hand on Ellasbeth’s back and hustling her out the door and down the hallway. We followed them in case there was trouble. Lucy was whispering loudly, but I didn’t think it would make it past the thick doors and soundproofed walls.

“Just like old times,” Jenks said, and I couldn’t help my smile as I checked my hopper.

“Old times,” I scoffed, relishing the adrenaline scouring through me. “We’ve only been doing this for three years.”

“Yeah, but for a pixy, that’s like a decade.”

Ivy was testing the edge of the knife Trent had given her. Her head came up and she tossed it, catching it again to hold it properly. She looked at the door and then cocked her head. “After you, Jenks?”

Jenks shrugged. “I can’t open it. It’s a manual.”

“Manual it is,” the vampire said, and with a soft grunt, she planted a side kick on the lock, exploding the door inward.

Chapter 26

The thick, supposedly kick-proof door took two blows of Ivy’s boot before the lock broke free of the studs and the door slammed into the opposite wall. Men shouted, and Ivy dove in, hands in fists and screaming. Jenks was a hot sparkle of dust after her, and I followed as the thuds of fists into flesh exploded into the snap of a wrist or knee and a masculine bellow of outrage.