My pulse pounded as he edged forward, tense and eager. The sheen of sweat glistened on his brow, red where Jenks had pixed him, black and blue where Winona’s feet had pounded him. His blue eyes glinted as he stepped in and out of the sun leaking through the pavement grates. Lips a hard line, he pulled his gun up, smiling, showing his teeth. The gun was FIB issue, and I felt myself pale. No one was coming, and as I remembered the bells that didn’t ring in San Francisco, I reached deep into myself and found a sliver of courage. I had survived then. I would survive now.
“Feeling lucky?” I said, and he inched closer, his arms stiff and his aim unwavering. “Well, do you?” I mocked, and his finger moved.
The gun sounded like a cannon as it fired. Energy pulled through me, leaving me gasping as I fell to one knee. I felt the bullet hit my bubble and twang off. I lunged forward for my spell pistol as cement cracked under the bullet. My circle fell as I hit it, and my eyes closed at the sudden pain as I found the cement floor, front first. My hands scrabbled, reached, and found the butt of my splat gun. Elated, I turned, still on the ground, and brought my gun up.Eloy was there, and I cried out when his foot slammed into my raised hands, knocking the pistol free and probably breaking a finger.
“You son of a bitch!” I shouted, trying to sit up with my hands clenched to my chest. Trent’s ring burned on my finger, and I panted, feeling the pain where Eloy’s foot had jammed it into my skin, cutting me.
“Some demon,” Eloy said, swooping down to pick up my splat gun. “You’re going to be downed by your own spells. Pathetic.”
“It wouldn’t be the first time,” I said, reeling from the pain in my hand. What in hell kind of demon was I? But then I stared at the ring, glinting with my own blood, and had a sudden idea. It would jump me to Trent, but with that net sink in place . . . it would jump me—and anyone I was touching—into a jail cell.
Hope pulled my head up, and Eloy stared at my grim smile as I clutched my bruised hand and spun the ring on my finger to prime it. Slowly Eloy’s own smile failed as he realized I wasn’t giving up.
He began to raise my gun.
Screaming, I lunged at his knees. He cried out in surprise, and we went down together, me on top.
The world spun as he shoved me off, and I took the foot he was swinging at me right in the ribs. Grabbing it, I tapped a line, thought of Trent, and shouted, “Ta na shay!”
“Let go!” he shouted, kicking until my fingers gave way and he danced back, shaking in anger. “Don’t you ever touch me again, you putrid animal!” he shouted, and I curled into a ball as he drew his foot back and kicked me, lifting me from the concrete. Agony thumped into my middle, and I cowered, holding my bruised arms over my head. I didn’t understand. The charm was supposed to jump me to Trent! It hadn’t worked! I had spun the ring, I had said the words, and I had thought of Trent—seeing him in my mind not as the businessman he showed the world, but as he had been in the woods, a shadow crouched on a tree, wild and ephemeral. Maybe he was the businessman after all . . .
Gasping for air, I looked up, my lank hair falling into my eyes. Eloy stood before me in a patch of sun, my gun in his hand. “Was that supposed to have done something?” he shouted.
My lips parted as my eyes went to the taut form standing behind him. Trent?
“Something did,” Trent said, and Eloy spun.
Sweet and golden as honey, Trent pulled back and rabbit-punched the man square in the jaw. Eloy’s head snapped back, and he dropped like a stone. I stared as his body hit the ground, the displaced air shifting my hair from my eyes for a second. Trent is here? The charm had worked—sort of.
“Ow, ow, ow!” Trent whispered, hunched over his hand, his expensive suit and perfect hair looking wrong against the dull concrete walls. “Is it supposed to hurt that much, or did I do it wrong?”
Still clenched over my bruised ribs, I managed to sit up. “That’s why I always use my foot. I thought I was supposed to go to you!”
Sidestepping Eloy, Trent picked his way to me, his nose wrinkled as he glanced up at the ceiling and the obvious street noise. “You were trying to bring him to me?” he said, incredulous, and I shook my head as he extended his hand to help me stand. He had a ring, twin to my own. “I was in a meeting. Oh my God. I was in a meeting. I vanished right in front of them.” He slapped his pants pockets. “I don’t have my phone. My wallet.”
“Welcome to the club,” I said, then groaned as I got to my feet, waving off his help since my hands were swollen and bruised. “No, I wasn’t trying to bring him to you. The I.S. has a net sink up,” I said as I bent over my knees and tried to stand up straight. I think I had a bruised rib—I couldn’t even breathe right. “I was going to jump us to you and land in a cell. I didn’t expect you to show up.” Still hunched over, I tilted my head and found his eyes. “Thank you.”
His lips twitched. “You’re welcome.”
I looked at Eloy, resisting the urge to kick him, but only just. “I think you saved my life again. They know about Lee. You need to warn him. Eloy was going to come back for me.”
“I will.” Trent met my eyes as I tried to straighten up, making it only halfway. His gaze held pity, and I looked away, unable to stomach it. “He beat you?” he said, his voice holding unexpected anger.
Like I’d do this to myself? “I’m fine. It’s part of the job,” I whispered, still unable to breathe right. My fingers searched my ribs, and I winced.
The smell of clean laundry grew stronger, and I went to shove his hands off me as he tried to help me, but he was determined and my hands hurt. My jaw clenched, and when I had to sniff back a tear, I got mad. Damn it, I was not going to cry! “I said I’m fine!” I exclaimed, and he fell back at the sound of pixy wings.
“Jenks, what took you so long!” I said, then winced when my chest ached. Yep, at the very least they were bruised.
“Oh, for sweet mother-loving Tink!” he exclaimed in disgust. “I leave for five minutes, and you ask Trent to help you? Damn, girl, why didn’t you just ask me to leave if you wanted some alone time to beat up the bad guy? Ah, his aura is brightening, by the way.”
The grit ground under Trent’s thousand-dollar shoes as he crouched at Eloy’s head, lifted it up by his hair, and slammed it back down. Eloy groaned, his entire body becoming slack.
“Yeah, that did it.” Jenks tried to land on my shoulder until I waved him away.
“Not bad, Trent. Not bad,” I said as I began limping to the stairway. I could hear people, blessed people, coming to help me. “Hey! We’re down here!” I shouted, then almost passed out when I began to cough.
“I’m okay. I’m okay!” I said, thankful there was no blood as Trent’s arm went around me, holding my ribs so I wouldn’t fall apart.
With a clatter and a boom of sound, the twin metal doors at the top of the stairway were flung back. The late-afternoon sunlight poured in, blinding me. “It’s us! We’re good!” I tried to shout, but Trent had swung me up in his arms and the clean smell of his silk suit poured over me. I couldn’t see through my squint, but I heard men shouting and feet stomping down the stairs.
“He’s over there,” Trent said, then, “No, I’ve got her. Is there an ambulance on-site? She’s banged up pretty bad. I don’t know. Jenks?”
“How the hell should I know what happened?” the pixy said, and I shut my eyes against his sparkles; they were giving me a migraine. “I was out looking for the FIB!”“I’m okay,” I insisted, squinting. “I just need a pain amulet. Does anyone have a pain amulet?” Ivy had a pain amulet. Ivy was somewhere else.
“I’ll get you to an ambulance,” Trent said softly, the obvious cost of his clothes granting him passage to the surface as he went up the stairs against a tide of uniformed people flowing underground.
“Rachel?” came Glenn’s voice as our heads broke the surface and the wind blew my tangled hair into Trent’s face. “Jenks said . . . My God! What did he do to you?”
“I’m fine,” I said, feeling dizzy as Trent stopped and the two tall black men peering at me coalesced into one. “We played chicken with his bullets, and I won. You mind getting that light out of my eyes? I can’t see crap.”
Glenn and Trent exchanged uneasy glances, and I realized it wasn’t a light in my face, but the sun. “Close your eyes, Rachel,” Trent said, and I did, a faint feeling of fear sliding to the back of my head and making me shut my mouth, too. Some of those blows had been to my head.
“Is she okay?” Glenn whispered. “How did you get down there, Mr. Kalamack?”
“She tried to jump out and jumped me in instead,” he said simply. “She just needs some shade. I’ve got her okay. Can you get those reporters out of here?”
“Lord have mercy, they found us already,” Glenn said, and I cracked an eye, almost smiling at the phrase and the hint of his southern background showing. “Ah, the ambulances are over there. You got her?”
“Yeah, we got her,” Jenks said, and I winced as his dust hit my face.