Black Magic Sanction (The Hollows 8)

I took a slow breath. Just do it, I thought, touching the blade to my finger.

"There is no almost when it comes to magic," Al said, and adrenaline surged when his hand clamped down over the knife and pressed it against me. I jerked, my hand suddenly warm and slick as I pulled away. Pain was a pulse behind it.

"Damn it, Al!" I shouted, staring in horror at my bloody palm, then the knife in my other hand, slick and gleaming. My grip tightened on the handle. Frightened and angry, I looked at Al, but his hand was even worse. When Td pulled away, I'd cut him deep. Most of the blood on me was his. I think.

"I thought your blood wasn't an accurate focusing object anymore," I said, and the demon met my gaze, having been eying his palm with interest as to which lines I'd cut across.

"It wasn't - until you set it back to zero with that little stunt of yours," he said, holding his hand over his end of the balanced stick. "All together now... "

My heart was pounding, and my hand shook as I set the knife down. Black magic. Just do it. Finish it. Shivering inside, I held my bleeding hand over the stick, and with a few rubs at my finger, the blood started to drip. Al squeezed his hand until a red rivulet started down the inside of his fist. Three drops to mirror mine hit the stick, and his bloodied hand opened.

He made a pleased sound, and the scent of burnt amber rose to mix with the scent of redwood and wood smoke. Almost done. "Finish it," I said, then jerked when he leaned over the table and grabbed my wrist with his bloody, sticky fingers, yanking me half out of my chair. "What are you doing?" I demanded, scared.

"Relax," Al said, smearing our blood together on the last candle. "Count yourself lucky I don't want to share the twisting another way."

He meant sex, and I tugged my hand from Al's, only to find it recaptured and pressed against the candle again. "Try it and you'll be walking funny for a week," I said, glaring.

"One night, itchy witch, you'll come to me," was all he said. Still holding me halfway across the table with my arm outstretched, he smiled and whispered, "Evulago"

My hand in his grip, I stared. My heart hammered, and the wax beneath our fingers became warm. That was the word that would start it all, the one that registered the curse and made it stick. And through my hand touching his, I felt a sensation of disconnection, as if the floor wasn't quite under me. If I closed my eyes, I wasn't sure if I would be here when I opened them, or if I'd be lost in an open, whispering space of the collective where everyone was talking and no one listened. But this time, when Al's word echoed in my head, it was as if someone paused.

Al glowered. "You've been recognized. This is exactly why I didn't want to do this."

His hand let go, and I eased away. Immediately the feeling of the open room and vertigo faded. Nervous, I picked up the white cloth he had thrown at me earlier and wiped my hand as clean as I could get it before tossing it into his hearth fire to burn. I'd not leave it around with the blood of both of us on it.

As the cloth caught, I could feel the curse winding its way through me, settling into my bones, becoming a part of me. My vision was blurry, and I realized I was seeing Al's aura, untainted and unsullied by his millennium of ever-after imbalance. Lips parted, I shifted my eyes from his to mine, also visible as we did the curse. Al's aura was a freaking gold. It was shot through with red and purple, but it was gold, same as mine. Same as Trent's.

The demon saw my shock, and he smiled. "Surprised?" he said softly, voice low and seductive. "Funny how these things work out. Doesn't mean anything though. Not really."

"Ye-e-e-eah," I drawled, gaze flicking behind him to Pierce. Either he was still out, or he was faking. Al's eyes were on mine when I turned back, and I felt cold as I recalled him tasting my aura after I did a spell to see the dead. "Can we finish this?" I said, uneasy.

Head bobbing once, Al reached out and simply spun the stick a hundred and eighty degrees. "Omnia mutantur," he said firmly.

All things change, I thought, then blinked when Al shuddered. His eyes closed, and he breathed deeply, as if tasting something on the air. I'd never seen him with his eyes closed like that, and I noticed the faint lines at the corners. "I take this," he mouthed, not a sound coming from him. I remembered the imbalance hitting me when I did the curse. It had hurt like hell until I accepted it. For Al, there had been no pain - but he hadn't tried to avoid it either.

My head was hurting, and after glancing at Pierce, I breathed, "My mark?"

Al's eyes opened, landing immediately on mine. There was nothing in his expression. "It's gone," he said simply, and a thrill spun from my head to my toes.

I scooted my chair back and fumbled at my boot. "I said it was gone," Al said indignantly.

"I believe you." Heart pounding, I wedged my boot off, and it hit the floor with a thump. Fumbling with the sock, I peeled it off like a snake-skin and twisted my foot up and around. Tears filled my eyes, spilling out and down in a warm trickle. The underside of my foot was smooth and unbroken. The raised circle with a slash through it was gone. It was gone!

Blinking furiously, I smiled. "It's gone," I said, letting my foot go. "I did it!"

"Yada yada yada," Al said sourly. "You tricked the big bad demon. Congratulations. The only way I'm going to save face is by snagging some excellent ley-line witches. Coven quality, you say?"

My exuberance died. "Al, wait," I said as I set my foot on the icy floor, feeling the cold soak up all the way to my spine. "Do you know what they will do to me if you show up and try to snag them?" I'd known this was a possibility, but at the time, it had been me or them, and me always wins when the them is a bully.

Al stood, strutting over to Pierce and looking down at him, nudging him with a toe. "Do you know how rare it is for a coven-quality witch to summon me? Raw and untutored in the art of containing a demon? They kill their own if they become skilled in the dark arts, don't they, Gordian Nathaniel Pierce?" he said to the unconscious witch. "If you can get out of their circle, Rachel, I can, too."

My face skewed up in worry as a sheet of ever-after coated him, and suddenly it looked as if I was standing above Pierce, far too sexy and slim in my working leathers, my hair wild and my lips parted. Oh. Shit.

"My name is Rachel Morgan," Al said, mimicking my voice perfectly. "I like black panties, action movies, and being on top."

My jaw clenched, and I wondered how much I was going to pay for getting my name back. "I'm never going to get my shunning removed if you do that," I said as I shook my sock right side out again.

"I don't give a flying damn." Looking like himself again, Al shifted his shoulders as if trying to fit back in his skin. "I don't know why you even care about your shunning," he said as he returned to the table and began gathering things. "I've told you you'd be welcome here. Have a name that is respected. Have I not proved we can work together? That I can honor my word?"

"Only when I force you to."

"That you're safe, protected?" he continued as if I hadn't said anything as he slid his pyramid away and shut the cupboard. "Why do you fight this, itchy witch?"

I tugged my sock back on, eyes downcast. "I'm not a demon. You said it yourself." Lee thought I was, though.

His lips curved up in a nasty smile, and he tossed the used candles into a bin. "Perception is everything, determining how others treat us. If enough people think you're a demon, you are."

Snatching up my boot, I glanced at Pierce and away. I was eager to get home, even if I was loath to leave Pierce. He wasn't my responsibility, but that didn't mean I didn't care. I was going to have to make a call. The coven still had my old cell phone. Maybe if I warned them, I wouldn't get blamed when someone ended up dead or snagged. Maybe. Maybe not.

"You really should stay," Al said mildly as he put the ashes back in the box he kept them locked in. "Your friends are all going to die."

"Not today they're not," I said, feeling my anger rise

Al turned to look at me. "No," he agreed. "But they will. Eventually. You won't. Not anymore. Unless you're stupid about it."

My pulse hammered, and I stared at Ah Was he kidding?

"He's going to hurt you," Al said, looking at Pierce. "I can take care of you, teach you to survive. Be there for you, even if you do hate me."

I shivered. "I don't want him," I said, and Al turned away, seeming smaller somehow.

"Mmmm." Al stood before me, running his gaze up and down and lingering on the mess my hair had become. "Do you think the coven might summon me tonight?" he asked as he took my arm and escorted me past Pierce to the elaborate glyph of the screaming face. His smile deepened, becoming pure evil. "I do."

"Al, wait," I said as I hobbled with him, one foot in a boot, one in a sock. But I knew my protests would be futile. If I warned them, I wasn't helping my case of being a white witch, seeing that I'd have to explain why Al had his name back. If I didn't warn them and Al took someone... Well, if he took them all, I might stay out of jail, but how could I live with myself?

"If they don't summon me," Al continued, "I suspect that they'll likely spend their resources sending assassins after you. It's a tricky moral problem, isn't it? Warn them, and they survive to kill you. Remain silent, and they die and you live. My little gray witch."

He reached to touch my face, and I swung my boot at him. Al only laughed. "Get yourself cleaned up, will you? You're a mess," he said, then gave me a shove.

I fell backward onto the screaming face etched into the marble floor, feeling my body dissolve into thought as my boot skidded across the stone floor. Before I could feel the cold of nothing, the black stone shifted to the familiar salt-laced linoleum of my kitchen. I was home.

Looking up, I found Ivy, Jenks, and Lee waiting for me. Silently they took in my blood-smeared hand and the lack of Pierce. Ivy sighed and Jenks's wings slowed and stopped. My jaw clenched, and I forced it to relax.

I was home. I'd gotten a demon mark removed. I couldn't be summoned by anyone but Al and my friends. And I didn't have the slightest idea what I was going to do.

Eighteen

Jenks dropped down on a column of glittering sparkles before I could get up from my hands and knees. My pain amulet was useless, the linoleum hurt my knees, and my tangled hair made a curtain between md the world. "Rache!" he called, a gleaming sparkle darting erratically as he tried to get past my hair. "Are you okay? Where's Pierce?"

Much as I hurt, I couldn't help my smile. Melancholy and elation were a weird mix as I sat back on my heels and got my hair out of my face. I'd lost a demon mark, but Pierce was still with Al. He was being beaten because he'd helped me, and it didn't sit well.

"I'm fine," I said on an exhale, taking Ivy's hand as she extended it so she could pull me to my feet. Muscles sore and knees complaining, I got up, tossed my useless pain amulet into the sink, and looked at Lee sitting at my spot at the table with a chipped coffee cup in his short, laced fingers. Over the sink, the dark window was shining with streaks of moisture. It was raining.

Ivy let go of my hand and dropped back to put the usual space between us. "What happened to your other boot?" she asked, and a slow smile grew despite my worry for Pierce. Leaning against the sink, I painfully twisted my foot up and around to pull the sock off again.

"It's gone," I said, meaning the demon mark. "I've gotten rid of two, now. Just the one left." The one I got thanks to Nick.

Ivy leaned over to see, holding her hair back as she peered at my foot. Jenks flew closer, the draft from his wings a breath of chill. From the corner, Lee jerked upright in his chair. "You got a mark off?" he questioned, almost spilling his coffee. "You gave him Pierce?"

My foot hit the floor, and both Ivy and Jenks backed up. "I didn't give him Pierce. Did it look like I gave him Pierce? Huh? Did it look like I told Pierce to follow me? Did you hear words come out of my mouth saying, fierce, save me!' No. He already belongs to Al. Got himself demon snagged last winter. He's on loan right now, babysitting me. He'll be back." I looked at Ivy and Jenks, frowning. "Count on it."

Lee raised a hand in protest. "Sor-r-r-ry," he said dryly. "What did you give him, then?"

Brow furrowed, I brought my other foot up and undid my remaining boot and kicked it off. Rex, Jenks's cat, went to investigate, and I crossed my arms over my middle. "I gave him his summoning name back, if you have to know. The mark I got rid of tonight was the one I originally took from Newt the day you tried to give me to Al and I had to buy my way home."

Jenks landed on Ivy's shoulder with his hands on his hips. Ivy, too, looked severe as they stared at him. Lee, though, looked just as peeved. "Who gave whom to Al?" he said darkly. "I was the one who took the long tour of hell."

"You bought your own ticket," I shot back. "Next time listen when I warn you, okay? I'm not as stupid as you'd like me to be."

Lee frowned, but then his face eased and he chuckled. "I think you're just lucky. I'm listening now, if that means anything."

Immediately, I lost my ire. Belonging to Al must have been hell. That Pierce was there now really bothered me. It would bother me more if I didn't know he'd be back babysitting me before too much longer. Unless Al accidentally killed him and I became Newt's ward. Shit.

"Tell you what, Lee," I said as the tension in the room eased. "How about we simply agree that you be nice to me and I be nice to you? It seemed to work today."

"He locked you in a boat and blew it up," Ivy said darkly.

"Kist planted the bomb," I said, wishing she'd quit bringing it up. My attention returning to Lee, I said, "How about it? I'm not talking about a partnership. More like a truce. You don't have to trust me, just stop pissing me off. And don't spell me again. Ever. Even if I am going to cause us to drive into a bus."

"You remember that?" Lee asked, and I nodded.

"Most of it." I'd be mad at Lee for knocking me out, but it was probably the only reason we made it home. King of the world... jeez, how embarrassing.

Lee's dark eyes became thoughtful. Jenks's wings slowed, and even Ivy seemed to relax. My eyes fixed on Lee's disheveled but staunchly upright posture, I crossed the room and held out my hand. It hung there all by itself, and I tilted my head, wondering if he was going to be stupid about this and let his pride put him in the crapper again. But then Lee's thin lips quirked, and finally a smile showed. With the sliding sound of his dirt-marked suit, Lee stood and we shook hands. There wasn't a whisper of power threatening to spill between us. His hand felt small in mine after Al's, and firm. "This is going to rot Trent's bridle," the man said as he let go.

Chuckling, I nodded. Poor Trent. Hope he choked on it. Eying Lee's coffee on the table, I turned to the coffeemaker. Jenks went to "chat" with Lee about the dangers of going back on even our informal truce, and I fumbled in the cupboard for a mug. Ivy was suddenly at my elbow, and I gave her a quick look to make sure she wasn't vamping out, then relaxed.

"Pierce?" she whispered, and my elation at getting rid of a mark and mending a fence with a city power evaporated.

"Al's beating him up for threatening him with Newt," I said, and she winced. "I'm sure he'll show up before long." But in what state, was the question. He should have kept his mouth shut. I was handling it. Interesting, though, that I was allowed to threaten Al and Pierce wasn't.

I bowed my head, and my hair made a curtain between me and the rest of the world as my grip tightened on the cold porcelain. This wasn't right.