A Fistfull of Charms(62)

Sure enough, Nick stood up, his hands spread placatingly. “I don’t know. I went through Al for that one. He took his own cut for brokering my question. But it was worth it.”
I turned, and Nick blinked at the fury creasing my brow. “You son of a bitch,” I whispered. “You’ve been selling me out to demons? You’ve been buying demon favors with information about me? What did you tell them!”
Eyes wide, Nick backed up. “Rachel…”
My breath hissed out. In a quick motion, I leapt at him, pinning him against the door with my arm under his neck. “What did you tell Al about me!”
“It’s not that big of a deal!” His eyes were bright, and what looked like a laugh was quirking his lips. He thought it was funny? He thought I was overreacting, and it was all I could do to not crush his windpipe right there and then.
“Just stupid stuff,” he was saying, his voice high but light. “Your favorite ice cream, what color your eyes are after a shower, how old you were when you lost your virginity. God, Rachel. I didn’t tell him anything that could hurt you.”
Outraged, I pushed into his neck, then rebounded to stand two steps away. “How could you do that to me?” I whispered.
Nick rubbed his throat and moved from the door, trying to hide that I’d hurt him. “I don’t know why you’re so upset,” he said sullenly. “You wouldn’t believe the information I got in return. I didn’t tell him anything important until I thought you were dead.”
My eyes widened and I reached for the wall before I fell over. “You were doing this before we broke up?”
His hand still on his throat, Nick looked at me, his own anger growing. “I’m not stupid. I didn’t tell him anything important. Ever. What is the big deal?”
With an effort, I unclenched my teeth. “Tell me this, Nick,” I said. “Did the demon look like me when you kissed it? Was that part of the deal? That you pretended it was me?”
He said nothing.
My finger trembled as I pointed to the door. “Get out. The only reason I’m not handing you back to the Weres is because they have to see you die, and right now I’m thinking of taking the pretend part out. If you ever tell another demon anything about me, I’ll…I’ll do something bad to you, Nick. So help me God, I’ll do something very bad.”
Furious, I yanked the heavy side door open. The sound of the metal scraping shocked through me. God! He had been buying demon magic and favors with information about me. For months. Even while we were together. 
“Rachel—”
“Get. Out.”
My voice was low in threat, and I didn’t like the sound of it. At the scuff of his feet hitting the pavement, I shoved the door shut. Breath held, I clasped my arms about myself and just stood there. My head hurt and the tears welled up, but I wasn’t going to cry.
Damn him. Damn him to hell.
Twenty-two
M iserable, I wouldn’t leave the van, afraid if I saw Ivy or Jenks I would blurt out what Nick had done. Some of my reticence was because I needed him to finish this run, and if they leaned on him hard, he might leave. Some of it was shame for having trusted him. Hell, most of it was. Nick had betrayed me on so many levels, and he didn’t even get why I was upset. I hadn’t been prepared for this. God! What an ass.
“I ought to give him back to the Weres,” I whispered, but they had to see him die with the focus. There was no guarantee that he’d stop telling Al where I was ticklish, or that I sometimes hid the remote from Ivy just to get a rise out of her, or any of the hundreds of things I had shared with him when I thought I loved him. I shouldn’t have trusted him. But I wanted to trust. Damn it, I deserved to be able to trust someone.
“Bastard,” I muttered, wiping my eyes. “You son of a bitch bastard.”
The chatter of the maids and the thumps of their cart as they wheeled it down the cracked sidewalk were soothing. It was past noon, and the motel was empty but for us. Being Wednesday, it would likely stay that way.
I lay curled up on the cot, my head on the clean smell of the borrowed hotel pillow, and my shoulders covered by the thin car blanket. I wasn’t crying. I was not crying. Tears were leaking out as I waited for the ugly feelings to fade, but I wasn’t crying, damn it!
Sniffing loudly, I reassured myself that I wasn’t. My head hurt and my chest hurt, and I knew if I cared to unclench my hands from the blanket clutched under my chin that they would be trembling. So I lay there and wallowed, falling into a light doze as the heat of the day warmed the van. I barely heard the sound of Jenks and Jax returning to the room. But the shout filtering through the open door jerked me awake.
“I thought he was with you!” Ivy shouted. “Where is he?”
Jenks’s response was unheard, and I jumped at the hammering on the van door. Sitting up, I put my sock feet on the floor, drained of emotion.
“Nick!” Ivy shouted. “Get your ass out here!”
Numb, I stood, grabbed the sliding door, and pulled it back with a crunch of metal to look at Ivy with bleary, empty eyes.
Ivy’s anger froze, her eyes almost black as she scanned the van and saw me hunched under my blanket. The fog had lifted, and a cold breeze shifted the tips of her sin-black hair, shimmering in the light. Behind her, Jenks lingered in the doorway to the motel room, Jax on his shoulder, six bags with colorful logos in his grip and a question high in his eyes. “He’s not here,” I said, keeping my voice low so it wouldn’t rasp.
“Oh God,” Ivy whispered. “You’ve been crying. Where is he? What did he do to you?”
The protective tone in her voice hit me hard. Miserable, I turned away, my arms about my middle. She followed me in, the van unmoving when her weight hit it. “I’m fine,” I said, feeling stupid. “He…” I took a deep breath and looked at my hands, perfect and unmarked. My soul was black, but my body was perfect. “He’s been telling Al stuff about me in return for favors.”
“He what!”
Jenks was suddenly beside her. “Jax, did you know about this?” he said tightly, the depth of his anger looking wrong on his youthful features.“No, Dad,” the small pixy said. “I only watched the one time.”
Ivy’s face was pale. “I’ll kill him. Where is he? I’m killing him right now.”
I took a breath, more grateful than I probably should have been that they would defend me like this. Maybe I was just trusting the wrong people. “No you aren’t,” I said, and Jenks jiggled on his feet, clearly wanting to protest. “He didn’t tell Al anything too bad—”
“Rache!” Jenks yelped. “You can’t defend him! He sold you out!”
My head jerked up. “I’m not defending him!” I exclaimed. “But we need him alive and cooperative. The Weres have to see him die along with that…thing,” I said, nudging my bag with a foot. “I’ll think about beating him to a pulp later.” I looked up at Ivy’s blank expression. “I’m going to use him, then cut him lose. And if he ever does anything like that to me again…”
I didn’t need to finish the thought. Jenks shifted from foot to foot, clearly wanting to take things into his own hands. “Where is he?” the pixy asked, grim-faced.
My breath came and went. “I don’t know. I told him to go away.”
“Go!” Ivy exclaimed, and I made a wry face.
“Out of the van. He’ll be back. I still have the statue.” Depressed, I stared at the floor.
Jenks hopped out of the van, and the light coming in brightened. “I’ll find him. Bring his punk-ass back here. It’s been a while since we…talked.”
My head came up. “Jenks…”I warned, and he held up a hand.
“I’ll behave,” he said, gaze darting over the parking lot and to the nearby bar, his face frighteningly hard. “I won’t even let him know you told us what he did to you. I’ll pick out a movie from the front office on the way back, and we can watch it, all nice and friendly like.”
“Thanks,” I whispered.
My head was down and I didn’t hear him leave, but I looked up when Jax’s wings clattered and found them gone. Ivy was watching me, and when I shrugged she shut the door to seal out the cold air. The sound of the metal on metal struck through me, and I gathered myself into some semblance of order. Ivy hesitated, looking torn between wanting to comfort me and afraid I’d take it the wrong way. And there was the blood thing too. It had only been a day since she had sated it, but it had been a very stressful day. Today wasn’t looking any easier.
I looked at the matted throw rug, wondering what kind of person I was, afraid to hug my friends, and sleeping with people who used me. “I’ll be okay,” I said to the floor. 
“Rachel, I’m sorry.”
My throat hurt. I put my elbows on my knees, set my head into my cupped hand and closed my eyes. “I don’t know. Maybe it was my fault for trusting him. I never dreamed he would do something like this.” I sniffed loudly. “What’s wrong with me, Ivy?”
I was disgusted with myself, the emotion edging into self-pity, and I met her gaze in surprise when Ivy whispered, “There’s nothing wrong with you.”