The Undead Pool

Disconcerted, I dropped my eyes, then abruptly sat down as a slew of ranging mystics fell into me, making me dizzy with images of a white van and Ivy. “Ivy’s on her way,” I said, looking up at Trent’s concern. His hand was on my shoulder, steadying me, and I thought I could feel a rising tingle of wild magic between us. “I don’t know how old the image is, but she’s got the van,” I added. I wasn’t sure what I appreciated more, that he’d have been there if I’d needed it, or that he wasn’t treating me like an invalid, accepting that I’d had a moment and I was okay.

“That’s probably her,” he said at the unmistakable sound of an engine, and Jenks, plastered to the colored glass, gave a thumbs-up.

I stood, heart pounding. We were ready. “Okay!” I said brightly. “Jenks, Bis, Trent. This is going to be easy. We go in. Collect the mystics. We go out to the line. Done.” It wasn’t going to be that easy, but I could hope.

Jenks hovered between us, his kids a sullen cloud behind him. “Ah, we’re coming with you.” Wincing, he looked over his shoulder. “All of us.”

“Seriously?” I shrugged into my black jacket and zipped it up. From outside, Ivy revved the engine, wanting us to hurry. “Who’s going to watch the church?”

Jenks made a sharp wing chirp to shut his kids up. “It’s not going to run away,” he said. “I’ve seen the foundation and it doesn’t have wheels. Belle will be here. But we’re coming. All of us.” His expression became pained. “I can’t make them stay, Rache. They want to help.”

I grabbed my bag from the coffee table and slung it over my shoulder. “We already have too many people.” I strode for the door, but there was nothing I could do to stop them either.

“We don’t take up any room,” Jenks said as he paced me, his kids silently following. “And you’re going to need us.”

I hesitated at the door. Trent was no help, checking his watch as he deferred the decision to me. Jenks coming was a no-brainer, but a half-dozen noisy, ill-experienced pixies getting in the way might be a problem. Bis shrugged as he hung from the door frame, and pixy dust eddied when he dropped to wrap his tail across my back and under my arm in a secure hold. “I think it’s a good idea,” he said. “They can stick with me.”

Bis taking responsibility for them—for all of them—would be a load off my mind. “Okay,” I said reluctantly, and we were suddenly covered in pixy dust, Bis hunching at their ultrasonic noise. “Let’s go!” I said louder, and Trent opened the door to give them somewhere to go. “Before Ivy has a cow!”

My words were confident, but I was anything but as I gave Belle a last salute and we left. Motions slow, I tugged the door closed behind me, my fingers trailing on the heavy wood as I was struck by the feeling that I might never return to open it.

Bis took off from my shoulder and the pixies dove in and out of the open windows of the van. Trent hesitated on the top step for me. “You all right?”

My feet thumped down the stairs, the shock reverberating all the way up my spine. “Jittery,” I said. I was getting the worst premonition. This wasn’t going to go well. Something was going to go wrong. It was more than the scent of smoke and furtive figures traveling from backyard to backyard. I’d always had the demons to fall back on, and this time, I’d be in worse trouble if they found out. They wouldn’t care if the world fell apart—and while I was busy trying to explain, it would.

“It will be done in a few hours,” Trent said, the sound of plastic on metal a harsh rolling as he yanked the sliding door of the van open.

I reached for a handhold . . . and faltered, rocking back to the sidewalk. The van was full of vampires. Not just vampires, but vampires with guns, and chains, and chest wraps of grenades. Trent’s expression was as shocked as mine. The normal seats had been removed, replaced with two big bench seats along both sides, making it look like a SWAT van—if SWAT vans had excited vampires comparing the pros and cons of their handguns in them. Okay, on second glance, I counted only six vampires including Ivy and Nina up front, but it looked like more. Whoa. Was that a sledgehammer?

My attention shot to Ivy at the wheel, dressed in black with her hair up in a bun that would be hard to grab. “Ah, Ivy?” I said, ignoring the eager hands held out to drag me in. None of them were David’s. “This was supposed to be a small, intimate affair.”

“It just kind of happened.” Ivy waved the darting pixy kids out from between us. Bis was already perched on the headrest of the front passenger seat, his big claws making dents in the vinyl. Nina looked far too eager for my liking.

“Don’t be mad at Ivy,” Nina said as she twisted to look at me. She was sporting a black jumpsuit that looked as if it got its start in a skydiving class—apart from the grenades sewn onto it. “She told us about the I.S. trying to control the mystics. It’s not just about them killing our undead anymore. No one should have that kind of power over another. It ends here.”