Chapter Eleven

The sound of heavy plastic was soothing as I hung up my new outfit beside my two bridesmaid dresses on the back of my closet door. The black plastic with the Poison Heart logo looked garish next to the silk: garment bags, and I touched their smoothness just to prove that someone had actually spent money on something so extravagant.

Shaking my head, I ripped the plastic off my new purchase, wadded it up, and tossed it into a corner, where it slowly unfurled, the sound of it clear in the silence that held the church. I had just come from the mall by way of the bus, and I was eager to show somebody what I'd bought for Trent's wedding rehearsal and dinner, but Ivy was out and Jenks was in the garden. The Poison Heart was an exclusive shop, and I had thoroughly enjoyed my afternoon of guilt-free shopping. I needed this outfit for my run. It was tax-deductible.

The night was humid. My chemise was sticking to me, and since our central-air funds had become our resanctify-the-grounds funds, it looked as if the most we'd be doing this year would be a window unit somewhere. All the windows were open, and the shush of an occasional passing car mixed comfortably with the sound of Jenks's kids playing June-bug croquet.

It was as bad as it sounded, and Ivy and I had spent a hilarious evening last week watching his kids divide into two teams and, by the light of the porch lamp, take turns whacking the hapless beetles to very fat toads. The team whose toad hopped away first - stuffed to the gills - won.

My smile widened at the memory, and I brushed nonexistent lint from the snappy short black jacket, the beads sewn into it glinting in the overhead light. Smile fading, I looked the outfit over again - now that I was free of the clerk's enthusiasm. Maybe the beads were a little over the top, but they went well with the glitter on the stockings. And the shortness of the hip-hugger skirt was offset by its subdued black. It had come with a nice top that would show my midriff, and I had the jacket in case it got cold.

Shuffling in my closet, I pulled out a pair of flat sandals I could run in. Ellasbeth wouldn't be wearing jeans and a T-shirt. Why should I slum it to make her look good?

I dropped the sandals and stepped back in thought. Some jewelry would finish it nicely, but Ivy could help me with that.

"Hey, Jenks!" I shouted, knowing if he didn't hear me, his kids would and go get him. "Come and see what I bought!"

Almost immediately there was a clatter of wings at my window. I had sewn up the pixy hole in the screen a few days previous, and I stifled my smile when Jenks ran into it.

"Hey!" he shouted, hovering with his hands on his hips and a soft glow of gold sifting from him. "What the hell is this? "

"A little privacy," I said, fluffing the lace about the skirt's hem. "Use the door. That's what it's for."

"You know what?" he snarled. "I oughta -  Oh, for the love of Tink!"

I turned at his wonderstruck tone, but he was gone. In an instant he was in the hall, laughing as he drifted backward. "Is that it?" he said. "Is that the dress you bought to wear to Trent's wedding rehearsal and dinner? Damn, woman, you need some serious help."

Following his gaze, I looked at my outfit. "What?" I said, warming. My nose tickled, and I muffled a sneeze, the heat and humidity starting to get to me.

Jenks was still laughing. "It's a dinner, Rache. Not a dance club!"

Worried, I touched the jacket's sleeve. "You think it's too much?" I asked, working hard to keep my tone noncombative. I'd had this conversation with ex-roommates before.

Jenks landed on the hanger. "Not if you're going to play the part of the town whore."

"You know what?" I said, starting to get ticked. "Being sexy doesn't come naturally, and sometimes, you have to go out on a limb."

"Limb?" he choked. "Rache, if that's the way you dress for a wedding rehearsal, it's no wonder you spent high school fighting off bad boyfriends. Image, girl! It's all about image! Who do you want to be?"

I went to flick him away, and he darted to the ceiling, a trail of silver dust drifting down like a ribbon of thought he'd left behind. At the window a cluster of his kids were giggling. Flustered, I closed my curtains. Rex, drawn by the sound of Jenks's voice, padded in from who knew where, settling herself in my threshold with her tail curled about her feet and her eyes on Jenks. The pixy had landed on Nick's file, now shoved in among my perfume bottles, and I hoped the idiotic cat wouldn't jump up there after him. I felt a slow buildup of a tickle in my nose, and I scrambled for a tissue, startling Rex into skittering out to the hall when I sneezed.

Looking over my tissue, I watched Jenks's head go back and forth. "It's a nice outfit," I protested. "And I didn't buy it for Trent, I bought it for my birthday date with Kisten." I touched the beaded sleeve again, feeling melancholy. So I liked to dress up. So what? But maybe... maybe my image could use a little more class and a little less party girl.

Snorting, Jenks gave me a long, knowing look. "Sure you did, Rache."

Bothered, I turned off the light and headed into the kitchen, scooping up the two bags of tomato stuff for Glenn that I had left in the hall. Still laughing, Jenks followed, landing on my shoulder in a show of apology.

"You know," he said, and I could hear the smile on his face in his tone, "I think you should wear that dress to the rehearsal. It will cheese off that witch of a woman."

"Sure," I said, starting to get depressed. I'd wait until Ivy came home, then ask her. What did Jenks know? He was a pixy, for God's sake.

I elbowed the rocker switch as I entered the kitchen, all but tripping on Rex when she darted between my feet. The ungraceful motion turned into a sneeze. I felt it coming but didn't have time to warn Jenks. He was catapulted off, and, swearing, he went to the window.

"Sorry," I said when he lit next to his sea monkeys. According to my mother, it was bad luck to sneeze between rooms, but it was Jenks's questioning look that had me worried.

Wincing, I looked at Rex, her cute little kitten face turned up as she sat before the sink and gazed lovingly up at her four-inch master. Jenks followed my attention to her, and when I set the bags down to wipe my nose, his wings stilled in understanding. I had been sneezing off and on since yesterday. Crap, there are charms for it, but I don't want to be allergic to cats.

"I'm not allergic to cats," I said, wrapping one arm around my middle. "Rex has been here for the past two months, and this is the first time it's been a problem."

"Okay," he said softly, but his wings weren't moving when he turned his back on me to wrestle with the vial of sea-monkey food.

It was too quiet in here. I wanted to turn on some music, but the stereo was in the sanctuary, and to crank it loud enough to be able to enjoy it in the kitchen would bother the neighbors. Working up a really good pity party, I pulled out one of my newest spell books and set it thumping on the center island counter. Sneezing, I thought, hunched as I thumbed through the index. I wasn't allergic to cats. My dad had been, but I wasn't.

The only spell in the book that had to do with sneezing was one for cat allergies, and as I debated trying it, I felt a tickle start. Eyes watering, I held my breath. It didn't do any good. I sneezed, accidentally tearing the page.

"Damn it!" I swore, looking up to see that I had startled Jenks into the air. "I'm not allergic to cats! It's a summer cold. That's all."

I felt the urge again. Exasperated, I closed my eyes and tried to stop it, making an ugly noise when I couldn't. I knew I had seen a spell for sneezing that didn't revolve around cats. Where the devil was it?

"Oh, yeah," I said softly, crouching down to get my old ley line textbook out from between The Big Cookie Cookbook and my copy of Real Witches Eat Quiche.

"Rache?" Jenks said, coming to stand on the counter when I opened it up to the index.

"What?" I snapped.

"You need any help?"

I stopped what I was doing and looked to find him standing miserably before me with his wings drooping. Rex was twining about my ankles, and if I knew it was anything other than misplaced affection, I would have been charmed. Slowly I exhaled. "I don't think so," I said, flipping to page forty-nine. "Ley line charms are pretty easy. I'm getting better at them, and if it does the trick, then we're all set."

He nodded and flitted up to the ladle, his favorite spot in the kitchen, where he could see me, the door, and a good slice of the garden.

I quickly read over the instructions to grow more confident. I didn't particularly like ley line magic, having been classically trained in slower, but no less powerful, earth magic. Earth magic used potions and amulets, finding the energy to perform the spell in plants, who ultimately pulled it from the ley lines themselves. The energy was filtered and softened, making earth magic more forgiving and slower than ley line magic, but ultimately more far-reaching - the changes wrought with earth magic were generally real rather than illusion, as much of ley line magic was. I wouldn't just look shorter under the right earth charm, I would be shorter.

Ley line magic used incantation and ritual to pull the energy to change reality right off the line. It made this branch of magic faster and flashier, but there were ten times more black ley line witches than black earth witches. Apart from hitting someone with a hunk of ever-after to short out his or her neural network, changes were illusion and could be surmounted with willpower.

Before dying, my father had taken steps to direct me into earth magic. It was a decision I totally agreed with, but I had some skill in the ley line arts, and if it would stop me sneezing, where was the harm? And while going over the white charm before me, I decided the five-hundred-level spell was well within my grasp.

Tags: Kim Harrison The Hollows Fantasy
Source: readsnovelonline.net