The Witch with No Name

My lips pressed in disbelief. “And we get that seven stories down in the earth?”

Trent nodded, shrugging helplessly. “If that’s where you are, then yes.”

He wasn’t going to let me out of his sight. The soft snick of Jenks sharpening his sword seemed loud. “I still say that’s a bunch of hooey, so I’ll let you come with me,” I said, and Trent smiled, leaning across the space to give me a kiss. His lips met mine, warm and tasting of cinnamon and wine. My eyes closed, and my heart gave a thump, almost an ache for how much he loved me—I loved him.

“There’s that, too,” he whispered as he pulled back, his fingers leaving tingles. “Ready?”

I was going straight into the devil’s lair, but at least I had company. “Okay, you can come,” I said as I looked behind the car for traffic and reached for the door handle.

Trent’s touch pulled me to a stop, and I turned to see his worried smile. “Thanks,” he said, and I choked back a bitter laugh before I got out, scared for Ivy, scared for me, scared for Jenks and Trent.

But I did get out, breathing in the good Cincy air as I sent my eyes up the imposing facade. Trent and Jenks were waiting for me at the curb, and I hustled forward. “Thanks for driving,” he said as I came even and I hooked my arm in his. “The nap did me good.”

“Me too, Rache,” Jenks chimed in, and I tossed my hair so he could land on my shoulder.

“No problem,” I said, playing along with the idea that we could actually do this. I wasn’t leaving without Ivy and Nina, and my fingertips tingled as I strengthened my hold on the lines and filled my chi, then spindled even more in my head.

Trent held the door for me, and the wind blew my hair back as I went in. The first floor of the lobby was almost empty, and noise from the second- and third-floor offices filtered down the huge stairway. I looked up at the glass railings and desks, feeling my stomach knot. Head down, we angled toward the bank of elevators. There were at least seven levels downstairs, maybe more. I’d never been there, but Ivy had told me about them one night when she’d had too much to drink.

“The treasurer is on the third floor,” Trent said, eyes flicking from the information sign.

“You think they’d let us post bail and leave with her?” I said, and Jenks snorted.

Trent’s arm slipped from mine. “It will get their attention.”

It would at that, but I figured we already had their attention. I’d sat outside their building for almost an hour. “I say we go down as far as we can,” I said as I pushed the button for the elevator.

“Excuse me!” a somewhat feminine voice called out. “Yes, at the elevator?”

We turned to the tall man coming down the stairway. He was in a trendy suit, a living vampire by the way he moved, having confidence and fear mixed in all together. “Jenks, don’t go too far but see what you can find out,” I muttered, and he tweaked my ear before flying away, his dust matching the color of the marble floor exactly.

Trent sighed as he pulled himself upright and found a professional expression. The sharp taps of dress shoes on the stairs echoed as the man jogged down, his hands free and arms swinging. “Ms. Morgan?” he said as he got close, clearly nervous and more than a little excited. “Could you accompany me downstairs?”

“Maybe.” Damn it, this felt wrong.

The clerk moved as if to put a hand to my back, and I jumped to avoid him. Flustered, the man tried to find his aplomb. “Mr. Cormel would like to speak with you,” he said, all civilized, but there were two big guys at the lobby doors now, and people lined the glass railings, watching.

Trent scratched the side of his nose, not being ignored as such, but clearly not the focus of the man’s interest. “I want to pay Ivy’s bond,” I said, though it was actually Trent’s money that would do it.

Nodding, the clerk pushed the down button on a different panel. “He can arrange that.”

“I bet he can,” I said as the door opened and Trent and the clerk got in. Eyes wide, the clerk gestured for me to join them, and sullen, I stomped into the lift. “This is not a good idea,” I grumbled as the doors closed and the clerk ran a card. Jenks hadn’t made it, but elevators had never stopped him before.

“It’s better than having them come at us over dinner,” Trent said softly, and the clerk caught back a snort.

My eyes went to the panel. Sixth floor? Way out of reach of a ley line.

“Cormel is a reasonable man,” Trent said, more for the aide than me. “He’s not going to shove us in a hole.” Trent’s voice had been confident, but the tension in his fingers against my back gave him away. He was wire tight, and my own alarm ratcheted higher.