That I knew for a fact. The timing was off. I waited, shoving needlelike thoughts of impatience at Al's mind, threatening him until he found out for me. Sure enough, he made a huge mental sigh, thinking, Hold on a sec.
I took a breath to complain, but he was gone. I shuddered-it felt as if I suddenly lost half my mind when the thousand half-realized musings that go on in the back of our awareness abruptly vanished. I hadn't lost my mind, of course, but Al and I had been sharing mental space by way of the scrying mirror, and I felt the loss of his background noise when he left.
"He's checking," I said, then jumped as my focus blurred briefly as Al came drifting back into my head.
Ah. Here it is, the demon muttered, and I pressed my fingers against the scrying mirror to improve the connection. Ku'Sox won him in a bet. One concerning you, actually.
I put my free hand to my forehead and massaged it. Jenks landed on the table beside me, his tiny features drawn up in concern. It was as I'd feared. Ku'Sox on his own was bad enough, but add in a thieving, magic-using human who didn't mind getting dirty, and we were in trouble. Won him, eh? I thought derisively. This omnipotent crap you guys think of yourself is going to get you all killed. Nick is devious. Ku'Sox is worse. Together, they're really bad.
Al's spark of amusement darted through me, alien and at odds with myself. He belongs to Ku'Sox. That should be some consolation. Abject humiliation . . . blah, blah, blah. He somehow gave the impression of leafing through papers. It's all perfectly legal.
"I doubt abject humiliation is what's going on. Nick is over here in reality," I said, and Jenks smirked. Frowning, I turned back to the mirror, seeing a very faint reflection of him in its reddish depths. I thought it interesting that the pixy showed up better than me. "Did you know Nick is stealing Rosewood babies?" I said shortly, and Jenks's dust pooling on the mirror shifted to a sick-looking blue. "Thriving Rosewood babies? Nick knows the enzyme to keep them alive. Stole it from Trent. He's injecting it into them, prolonging their lives, then stealing them. Eight so far."
Al's amusement only ticked me off. Ah. You think Ku'Sox is making little yous? I don't blame him, seeing as you don't like him. Long-term planning. Good for him. It will keep the freak busy for a few decades. First thing the brat has done right since he got out of a test tube. I'm proud.
Al's thoughts were going distant, and I pressed my hand harder into the glass until it ached with the thrum of energy running through it. "He's not doing this for the greater demon good," I said sharply. "In ten years, he's going to have a bunch of preadolescent, very powerful day-walking demons who look to him for everything right down to their continued existence. Nick knows the enzyme, not the cure. The moment they don't get the enzyme, they die. You think that little fact is going to escape Ku'Sox?"
Breath held, I felt Al consider that. A hint of worry colored his usual confidence. If he were actually next to me, I probably wouldn't have been able to detect it, but here, with our consciousness twined together, it was harder to hide. And just as I knew he was concerned, he knew I was deadly serious. Mmmm, he finally thought. Is that coffee I smell in your thoughts? With an abruptness that told me he was taking me seriously, he snapped our connection.
I sucked in my breath and jerked my head up, shocked. "Damn," I whispered, curling my shaking fingers under into a fist. The lingering energy swirled, hurting until it was reabsorbed. "I hate it when he leaves that fast. He's coming over." Fingers aching, I slid the mirror onto the table and stood, rubbing my hands together to try to rid myself of the lingering prickles of magic. "Scrying mirrors are like party lines. This is a good thing." I think. "You staying?"
Jenks casually cleaned his sword on a torn corner of napkin and nodded.
I smiled, carefully setting my scrying mirror beside my cooling coffee. "Thanks. He's easier to deal with when he thinks people trust him."
"Trust?" The pixy held the blade up to the light and squinted at its shine. "I trust him all right. Trust him to get away with whatever he can."
As if on cue, there was the barest tug on my awareness as Al gently misted into existence without even the hint of a shift in the air. Appearing in the threshold, he sniffed, his eyes going to the steaming pot of coffee. The demon was taller than me, his overdone buckled boots giving him an advantage. He was wearing his usual crushed green velvet frock coat with the lace at his throat and cuffs, having gone on to add a matching top hat, a scarf to protect against the night's mist, a cane he didn't need, and his usual round blue-tinted glasses. They did little to hide his red goat-slitted eyes, and I knew he didn't need them to see with. Al was all about show, and he liked the image of a bygone British nobleman.
"Rache-e-el," he drawled, eyeing me over his glasses as he loosened his scarf and came in, boots grinding leftover circle-salt into the linoleum. "Sweats at your trial, gowns in your kitchen. You simply must learn how to dress yourself properly. Or did you go all out for me?" His expression souring, he gave Jenks a disparaging glance.
Jenks wrinkled his nose in disgust at the rank smell of burnt amber now permeating the air. "Sweet ever-loving Tink," he said, rising up and holding his nose dramatically. "Haven't you learned how to take a shower yet? You smell like a burning tire."
"Stop it," I said, knowing Al couldn't help it. The ever-after stank like burnt amber, and it rubbed off on you. I still noticed it, but it didn't seem to have the same impact anymore, which bothered me for some reason.
"I didn't get dressed up for you," I said, hoping the pixies stayed out. "I haven't had time to change from my, ah, date is all."
Al pulled his bared-teeth smile from Jenks, mellowing as he turned to me. "Is that so?"
Wanting to improve his mood, I went to get him a coffee. Al propped his cane in the corner and sat in Ivy's chair by the door, knowing it was the throne of the room. Settling himself with a pompous air, he shook out his sleeves and took a deep breath to speak.
I spun when six pixies came burst in, shouting about something or other. Jenks rose up, but as soon as they saw Al, they flew out screaming. Jenks shrugged, and Al grinned to show me his flat, blocky teeth. "You do have an interesting life," he said, fluffing the lace at his cuffs. "Now, about Nicholas Gregory Sparagmos. Stealing Rosewood babies? How sure are you that he's not collaborating with Trent?"
Shocked, I almost sloshed his cup over. "Pretty sure. Trent seemed as angry as I was when we met at the crime scene."
"You wore that to a crime scene? No wonder they don't take you seriously." Al rolled his eyes dramatically, and frowning, I extended his coffee to him. His eyebrows rose at the rainbow mug, and in a huff, I sat down beside my uneaten sandwich and pushed it away. He was eyeing the cold cuts still out, and I gestured for him to help himself. Coffee I'd get him, but if he wanted a sandwich, he was going to have to make it himself.
Pinkie extended, he sipped from his rainbow mug, his eyes closing in what had to be bliss. "Oh, this is marvelous! Rachel, you have made a capital cup."
"Al, about Nick," I said impatiently, and Al set his coffee aside, rubbing his hands in anticipation as he went to the center counter. "Trent wouldn't help him. He doesn't want to see more Rosewood babies turning into demons any more than I do."
Standing behind the counter, Al shook water off the lettuce, looking odd in his silk and velvet. "Trent has been known to work with Nicholas Gregory Sparagmos before," he said, using his full name to denote his familiar status. "The tricky elf freed Ku'Sox from the prison we put him in. He allowed Nicholas Gregory Sparagmos to escape from his lockdown." Al put a gloved finger to his nose. "Sounds suspicious."
I frowned, chin lifted as I refused to let his doubt poison me. "Trent didn't let Nick go. He was abducted by a demon, probably one that Nick called for that very reason, and probably the same one Ku'Sox got him from."
"You sound proud of the little man," Al drawled, and my lips parted when, with a tug on my awareness and a cascading sheet of ever-after, the vision of a British nobleman vanished, replaced with a heart-stoppingly familiar vision of Nick.
"Son of a Disney whore," Jenks whispered, but I'd gone cold, seeing Nick with his thin build, shaggy mop of dark hair, and sparse stubble. Al even had the faded jeans, tatty sneakers, black T-shirt with the lumberjack-style shirt open and hanging loosely over his narrow shoulders. A chill went through me as he layered cold cuts on white bread, looking like Nick until he blew me a kiss and winked at me with his goat-slitted eyes with a confidence only Al could command.
"That's not funny," I said.
"Ahh, you do hate him." His voice was his own, and I shivered as Al put a last slice of bread atop his pile. Seeing me turn away, he sent a second shiver of ever-after over himself and was back to his usual appearance. "Good for you, Rachel," he said as he brought his sandwich to the table. "Hate is all that keeps us alive when love is gone. You're almost there. Not quite ready to let it go yet." Sitting, he took a large bite. "God slay me, this is good."
Shaken from the reminder of Nick, I crossed my knees. "So you believe we've got a problem?"
He bobbed his head, not letting go of his sandwich to take a sip of his coffee. "We might," he said, downing half of it in one go. "But you understand I simply cannot go to Dali with your scary bedtime story of killer demon babies."
Jenks's wings clattered in disgust. I, too, wasn't happy, my foot starting to bob.
"Ku'Sox hasn't done anything against the law. That is, our law," Al said, one hand holding his sandwich, the other his coffee. "Especially if these children are potentially demons. It's the first time he's ever shown a hint of an interest in seeing our species regain its health and should be applauded. As for Nick? He's just a human. Mostly harmless."
Outraged, I stood. "Al, you are underestimating the danger here. Yes, Nick is just a human, but he's not afraid to do things that might kill him if he thinks the risk is good. You can't fight something like that. Will you just listen to me? How come no one listens to me! Is it the dress?" I snapped, my anger misplaced but real. "Maybe the curves? If I shaved my head and dressed like Newt, would you take me seriously then?"
The demon's chewing paused as he sent his eyes over my shape, silent as he took a sip of coffee. "Now, now, no need to go to extremes," he said softly. "Where is the proof that he's planning mischief, itchy witch?"
My shoulders slumped. If he was calling me itchy witch, he believed me, believed the danger, and that was all I wanted. "I talked to him. He as much as admitted so."
Red goat-slitted eyes showing over his glasses, Al made a bland face. "You talked to Ku'Sox?"
I blinked. "God, no. Nick."
"Ahh." Clearly relieved, he took a bite of sandwich. "Then you have nothing," he mumbled around his full mouth.
Frustrated, I slumped back into my chair, my elbow just missing my scrying mirror. Jenks's dust sifting down seemed to fall through the glass, but I was too frustrated to care.
"Oh, very well," Al grumped with bad grace. "I suppose you'll be bad-tempered until I talk to Dali. I'll do it in the morning-he's crankier than you if he doesn't get his beauty sleep."
My head came up, and I smiled, glad I had him to go to. Then I wondered how I'd gotten to the point where going to a demon was a good thing. "Thanks," I said, meaning it.
Al stood, coffee in one hand, half-eaten sandwich in the other. "Indeed," he said, then vanished in a wash of ever-after. His cane in the corner went with him, and then my eyes darted to the counter when the coffeepot popped out.
"Hey!" I shouted, but it was too late. My fingers drummed once in discontent, but I could sympathize. You couldn't get a cup of decent coffee in the ever-after for any amount of money. I'd pick the coffeepot up Wednesday, but experience told me that a rank burnt-amber smell would taint the coffee for weeks.
"What an ass," Jenks scoffed. "He took our coffeemaker!"
Shrugging, I went to open the window. "I'll get a new one tomorrow on the way out to Trent's." The slider moved up with its accustomed ease, and I stood a moment, listening to the pixies playing in the night as the stink of demons filtered out. My thoughts went to Nick, and my heart hardened. He had lied to me, misled me, and betrayed me time and again. I'd warned him, and I wouldn't feel guilty for whatever happened.
"You going to call Ivy?" Jenks asked, and I turned, my arms around my middle as I looked at her empty chair and her shut-down computer. Anything left open was going to smell like ever-after, and I bent to get the trash can out from under the sink. My first impulse was yes, seeing as she would like a piece of Nick's ass in a glass as much as me, but she'd tell Glenn, and Glenn didn't work for the FIB anymore. He had retired after finding out that HAPA had infiltrated the FIB, refusing to work for a company he couldn't trust implicitly and moving to Flagstaff with Daryl in the hopes that the higher elevation and cleaner air would help the nymph. Calling Ivy would only get them all in a turmoil.
Pinning the trash bin against the center counter, I ran my arm over the counter, throwing away the food that was open. "No," I said, and I met Jenks's eyes when he clattered his wings in disapproval. "It's the first time she's ever done anything healthy in her relationships," I said, not sure it was the right thing to do. "I'm not going to screw it up. She'll be back in a week."
Jenks's dust shifted from an uneasy green to a more neutral silver. "Yeah, maybe you're right," he said as he flew to sit on the windowsill to watch his kids.
But it didn't feel right.