The Witch with No Name

My stomach quivered, and I dropped my phone in my bag. Splat gun, lethal detection charms, gum, key-chain flashlight, a pair of ankle socks I’d worn the last time Trent tried to teach me golf. Mr. Fish.

Yeah, that ought to do it.

Chapter 16

“You sure you want to do this with Jenks and me?” I said as we slowed at an FIB blockade.

Trent waved at the FIB guys, and recognizing us, they gestured us through. “Absolutely,” he said distantly, and I felt warm, loved in a way. This sucked. It really sucked. It was so not fair to have Trent this close and finally understand what Al and Quen and Jonathan had known all along. What Trent and I wanted was never going to happen. I couldn’t keep dragging him down like this. He could end all of this by taking control of the enclave. But he couldn’t do that with me at his side . . .

What we wanted might not make any difference in a few minutes, though. The lights were up high at Mark’s, and I could see figures at the tables even before we parked. My grimace deepened as Jenks checked his sword, and I pulled my shoulder bag onto my lap. Ivy would be fine at her folks’ house, and she was in no state of health to help me.

“I swear, this place has got to be on an invisible ley line or something,” Trent said as we pulled in. There were only a couple of cars, and my brow pinched seeing the people afraid to move as they sat between demons in suits. Crap on toast, Mark is probably in there, too.

“What’s the plan, Rache?” Jenks asked, the snick of his sword catching my attention.

Plan? I looked up from Mr. Fish. “Ah, yeah. Right. Plan.”

Trent put the car in park, and I got out. Hip cocked, I waited for Trent, knowing he probably had that cap and ribbon of his somewhere and needed a moment to get it in place, but he immediately joined me. The music was loud, and there was masculine, aggressive laughter.

“Plan?” Jenks said again, and I waved to the FIB guys at the end of the street. I felt good with them there, even knowing they couldn’t do anything.

“Plan,” I said, rocking into motion when Trent’s shoes scuffed. “How about, let’s go in.”

Jenks’s dust flashed an irate red. “Tink’s titties, that’s her plan? Go in?”

Trent shrugged, relaxed on the surface as he pulled the door open. “Works for me.”

“Just like old times,” Jenks said, cracking his knuckles as he darted in over my head.

“I’ll take the ones on the right,” Trent muttered as the door closed, chimes jingling.

The laughter stopped as they noticed us. Trent was pulling deeper on the ley lines, but I did little more than make a casual connection. I couldn’t best one demon, much less eight. No, there were nine now, and they were shifting in their chairs to face us. If I couldn’t do this without turning it into a magic slugfest, then it was over before it had begun. When you got right down to it, magic was an asset only if you were up against someone who didn’t have any.

My heart thudded. Demons hated elves. Sure, they had ridden with Trent to bring down Ku’Sox, but bringing Trent in here had been either really stupid or really smart. He had some protection as a freed familiar, but “accidents” happened.

Al was in a corner booth with Dali and Newt. Six paper-and-wax cups of coffee in various stages of emptiness sat between them. Newt beamed at me, in contrast to Al’s outright hostility. Most of the demons were at the long center table tormenting those two couples. The people were terrified, unable to leave with the demons draping their arms over their shoulders. Their relief when they saw me made me angrier still.

Plan. “We get them out first,” I said, boldly striding to the counter. Mark was there making something with crushed ice and hadn’t heard us come in. He was holding up pretty well, but his relief when he saw me was astounding.

Trent moved behind a couple. “Go,” he said, and they stood, chairs sliding and demons staring at Trent in uncertainty as the couple scrambled to leave. Seeing them headed for the door, the remaining two people stood, sinking back down when the demon beside them growled.

So far, so good. Let’s push it a little more. “You really should reevaluate your life choices,” I said as I leaned against the counter, thumbs in my pockets. The demon looked vaguely familiar, but I didn’t think I’d ever done business with him. Like the rest of the demons here, he was in a business suit, jewelry flashing and hair slicked back. Only Newt and Al maintained their usual attire, Newt in her androgynous robes and elven dewar hat, and Al in his green crushed-velvet finery. His anger that Trent was still with me was almost palpable.