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Her pretty little mouth open, Ceri looked at Ivy and then Jenks. "He might kill you!"
"And he might not." Discouraged but seeing no other options, I pushed the legal pad of sketched maps away from me. "I have something he wants, and holding on to it will not do me any good. Giving it to him might get Trent free…."
Ceri gave Ivy a pleading look, and the vampire dragged her chair to the other side of me and sat down. "Rachel," Ivy said, her voice soft and full of pity, "there's nothing you can do. I don't want Trent stuck there any more than you do, but there's no shame in not waging a battle that can't be won."
Jenks stood before me with his head bobbing, but his relief made me even more angry. They weren't listening, and I really didn't blame them. My tension rose, and I scrubbed a hand across my face. "Okay," I said shortly, and Jenks flew backward as I stood. "You're right. Bad idea." I have to get out of here. "Just forget the entire thing," I said, looking over the kitchen for my coat. The foyer…I think.
I headed for the front door with no bag, no wallet, and nothing but my spare keys, which I had stashed in the safe with Ivy's living-will papers. Someone had brought my car home, but I had yet to find my bag.
"Hey!" Jenks said from the table. "Where are you going?"
My pulse hammered, and my steps jarred all the way up my spine. "Eden Park. Alone. I'll be back after sunrise. Unless I'm dragged into the ever-after," I added, sounding dry, sarcastic, and bitter. The clatter of pixy wings following made me tense.
"Rachel—"
"Let her go," Ivy said softly, and he dropped back. "She's never had to deal with a situation there was no way to win. I better call Ry
I passed through the bat-filled sanctuary thinking I wasn't going to be around to see it.
Thirty-two
It was cold, sitting on the top of the bench's back the way I was, my feet on the seat as I looked out from Eden Park over the gray Ohio River and across the Hollows. The sun was near rising, and the Hollows was hazy with a pinkish-gray mist. I was thinking—waiting, really. Just the fact that I was sitting here was a clear indication that the thinking portion of my life was done. Now I had to do something.
So I sat on the top of the bench and shivered in my short leather jacket and jeans, my boots doing little to stop the cold of a November morning. My breath made little puffs that existed about as long as my racing thoughts did: thoughts of my dad, my mom, Takata, Kisten, Trent trapped in the ever-after, Ivy trusting me to fix this, Jenks wanting to be a part of it.
Frowning, I dropped my eyes and brushed a smudge of dirt off my boot. My dad had brought me up here upon occasion. Usually it was when he and my mom were arguing or she had fallen into a funk, during which she would always smile and give me a kiss when I asked what was wrong. Now I wondered if her occasional depression had come from thinking about Takata.
I exhaled, watching the thought leave me like the mist from my breath and vanish into the collective consciousness. My mother had quietly gone off her rocker trying to divorce herself from the reality of bearing Takata's children while being lovingly married to my dad. She had loved them both, and seeing Takata in Robbie and me every day must have been a self-inflicted torture.
"You can't forget anything," I said, watching the words vanish into nothing. "And even if you do, it always comes back to bitch-slap you in the morning."
The cool mist of the coming day was damp and pleasant, and I closed my eyes against the brightening sky. I'd been up way too long.
Turning where I sat, I looked behind me over the narrow parking strip to the two man-made ponds and the wide footbridge spa
Wondering how little Audric was, I wobbled off the bench, slapped the cold from my jeans, and headed across the lot. I ran a hand over the red paint of my convertible in passing. I loved my car, and if I did this right, I'd be back to get it before they towed it away.
I took the bridge with slow steps, looking down for the telltale ripple of Sharps, the park's bridge troll, but he was either hiding in the deeper water or they had chased him out again. To the left was a wide expanse of concrete tucked in the curve of the upper pond. Two statues were cemented into the ground, and hemmed in between them ran the ley line. The faint red visible to my mind's eye was growing weaker as the sun neared rising, but it was still possible to see where it ran, bound by a wolf on one side and a fu
Taking a rock, I leaned to scratch a sloppy circle right in the line. Even if the sun rose and broke my summons, I could still talk to Al if I stepped into the line, though he'd be under no obligation to stay and listen. I really didn't think getting Al to stay would be a problem.
My heart pounded, and with sweat breaking out to make me cold, I whispered, "Jariathjackjunisjumoke, I summon you." I didn't need the trappings to force his appearance, I only needed to open a cha
Al misted into existence in a seated, slouched posture, and I stared, fascinated and repulsed as he took on a gross parody of me. His legs were twisted akimbo, ski
I hated it when he showed up as me.
"That's nice," I said, easing back from the circle.
A flicker of anger lit through his empty expression, and a shimmer of ever-after coated him. His form grew blockier, more solid. A whiff of lilac came to me, and the clean scent of crushed velvet. He faced me squarely, full of elegance and lordly refinement, sitting cross-legged on the cold cement: lace at his cuffs, boots shining in the light, ruddy complexion clean, and every vestige of a bruise or cut gone.
"I knew it was you," he said, the hatred in his deep voice pulling a shiver through me. "You're the only one who knows it."
I swallowed and tucked a curl behind my ear. "I never wanted your name. I only wanted you to leave me alone. Why the hell couldn't you just leave me alone?"
He sniffed, only now looking around with a haughty disdain. "Is that why you're calling me into…a park? You want to trade back? Afraid you're going to be drawn back to the ever-after when the sun rises?" His head tilted, and he smiled, showing me his flat, blocky teeth. "You should be. I'm most curious about that myself."
My mouth went dry. "I'm not a demon," I said boldly. "You can't scare me."
The subtle tension in him rose. I saw it in the slight tightening of his fingers. "Rachel, honey, if you're not scared, you're not going to survive." His ma