The Witch with No Name

“I like poking at dead things,” I said, and Cormel gave me a disparaging glance as he tore open two of the salt packets they had out for the breakfast sandwiches. “Felix is going to walk, and he knows it!” I protested. “Cormel, this can’t work. Admit it!”

Cormel calmly poured the salt into his coffee like sugar. “He’s doing much better.”

“It doesn’t matter how many sunrises you chain him in the basement for, he’s going to walk. I’m sorry, but the entire idea of the undead having their souls is wrong.”

“You. Out,” Cormel said tersely, and his aide left, head down and stinking of fear. Cormel was silent as the door chimes jingled, motions sharp as he stirred the salt into his coffee with one of those lame little sticks. “I’m here for two reasons,” he said, his gaze flicking to the FIB men among his own, making me wonder if he was as eager to avoid an interspecies confrontation as I was. “I will have my soul, and you will remove the demons from reality. I will not have them here mucking up the current power structure.”

Trent’s small sound of agreement was as significant as a gasp. That’s why he was here. Cormel was rightly worried about the demons, and Landon was missing. Damn it, Landon. If you’re going to break the world, you need to stay around to put it back together.

Jenks’s wings hummed a warning, and I strengthened my hold on the nearest ley line. It was more dangerous now that Cormel was alone. “You knew Landon was using you to try to topple the vampire power structure.”

“Obviously.” Cormel sipped his salted coffee. “And you will finish what he began.”

“Cormel, I can’t!” Frustrated, I pushed into motion. Jenks darted into the air, and I resolved to calm down when both Trent and Cormel jerked. “I can’t,” I said again, voice softer. “Undead souls running around, spontaneously merging? You’re going to lose your entire population of the old undead. Why do you think Landon gave you your souls to begin with?”

Trent looked pained, but I knew he believed as I did.

“As I said before, this is why you’re alive, Morgan,” Cormel said, and a thread of fear slid through me at his anger. “Fix it.”

Fix it. He made it sound so simple. “I swear, Cormel, if you go after Ivy I will hunt you down myself.”

Cormel’s expression was stoic. “Ivy is safe. Fix it.”

“Order up!” Mark called loudly, but Jenks hung where he was, over my shoulder. Cormel said Ivy was safe, but I didn’t believe him. Neither did Jenks. I thought of her at her parents’ house, knowing there was probably a crack team of efficient assassins within three minutes of her driveway. I never should have made a deal with him. Vampires and five-year-olds played by the same rules, and both threw tantrums when they lost.

Frustrated, I sat down. My cooled coffee was before me, and I reached for it, warming it up with a quick thought. “Why should I? You tried to kill us so Landon would bring back your souls.”

Trent made a pained noise, but honestly, everyone in the room already knew it.

“Your lives were reasonably safe.” With a sound of sliding linen and wool, Cormel sat down across from me, and surprised, I searched the vampire’s expression. He was a hard man to read. I didn’t know. Seeing me staring, Cormel saluted me with his salted coffee. “If I wanted you dead, you’d be dead. The destruction of your church was a warning. A reminder of what everyone’s place is.” His eyes were pupil black when he looked up. “You will do what Landon cannot. You will send the demons back.”

I exchanged a quick look with Trent. I’d give just about anything to be able to read Trent’s mind right now, but I had a pretty good idea of what he wanted. Too bad it wasn’t what I wanted. “Yeah?” I said, leaning back in my chair. “I like them here.”

“Rache!” Jenks protested.

“Well, I do!” I said, embarrassed. “They’ve been stuck in that hole for three thousand years. Maybe if they saw the sun once in a while they wouldn’t be so crabby.”

“Crabby?” Jenks darted over, and I covered my cup so his dust wouldn’t get in it. “That’s not crabby. That’s a two-year-old on a sugar high after missing his nap!”

I frowned at him and his Peter Pan pose on the wilted flowers. “They aren’t that bad. You just need to get to know them.” Trent sighed. I found his hand under the table and gave it a squeeze. He didn’t like my decisions, but he’d back them up.

“You have a week,” Cormel said, and I shifted my focus past an angry Jenks to Cormel fitting a lid back on his cup. It was the universal signal that this meeting was over.