The Undead Pool
Page 18
I couldn’t help my sigh. Ray looked up and patted my cheek, and I flushed when Quen’s brow furrowed in suspicion. “So you’ve been enjoying the work?” he asked, and I was saved answering immediately when Lucy raced in with a Bite Me Betty doll.
I set the doll aside as she ran out. “I don’t care to work for most of the people looking to hire a demon,” I said, thankful the solicitations for evil curses and bad karma spells had stopped.
Trent’s expression was closed when he came in with Ellasbeth. The woman had Lucy on her hip, and the toddler was fussy, clearly not happy with half the toy box still unemptied. There was a book in Ellasbeth’s hand. I knew that wasn’t going to fly: Ray studied, Lucy explored. They were going to be a potent team if they ever learned to understand each other. Seeing Ellasbeth, Trent, and Lucy together, the resemblance was more than obvious, and my smile faltered. Lucy looked a lot like her mother, too. They were the perfect family.
“Ellasbeth is going to stay and help with the girls until the misfires can be explained and rectified,” Trent said as he stood just within the kitchen, not a hint to his mood in his tone.
“Nice,” Jenks muttered, then took off from my shoulder. Lucy began to wiggle, clearly wanting to play in the temporary sunbeam. Ignoring her, Ray turned a page.
Ellasbeth pulled out one of the chairs from the table and sat, expertly wrangling the complaining toddler. Her gaze shifted between Trent and me as if looking for evidence we were lovers. It made me nervous, guilty almost, and I hadn’t really done anything. “It’s not the misfires as much as the out-of-control vampires I’m concerned with,” she said as she tried to distract Lucy with the book.
“Me too,” I said faintly.
Quen, who had stood when Trent came in, nodded. “Very good, Sa’han. I’ll call ahead and have Ellasbeth’s room refreshed.”
Ellasbeth smiled stiffly, giving up on the book and taking the Bite Me Betty doll when I handed it to her. “Thank you, Quen. I’d appreciate that.”
Trent clapped his hands once. “So, Rachel. What have you and Ivy pieced together?”
“Ah, it’s rather sensitive,” I started, and Ellasbeth frowned. “I don’t mind telling you, Ellasbeth,” I added quickly. “Especially since you’ll be dealing with it, but don’t go telling your best friend on the coast.”
She made a short bark of laughter. “I’m a scientist,” she said, sour enough to curdle milk. “I know how important proprietary information is. I can keep my mouth shut.”
She probably did, I mused, having forgotten that aspect of her. “Sorry.” I stood and set Ray down, not liking the image of the two of us dueling over the girls’ affections. The little girl wobbled for a moment, then carefully toddled into the living room and the toys. Lucy wiggled until Ellasbeth had no choice but to let her down.
“Mine!” Lucy shouted, and Jenks darted after them. Ellasbeth stared at Trent, then Quen, frowning when neither man followed them to supervise.
“Jenks is in there,” Trent finally said, and the woman eased back in her chair, clearly not liking it but wanting to leave the room even less.
“Ah, we still have no clue as to why the wave is making the undead sleep,” I said, retreating until the center island counter was between me and Ellasbeth. “But Ivy has been over the raw data from the misfires, and when you figure in my location, there’s an indication that it is ah, attracted to some degree to, ah . . . me.”
Trent swore softly. Quen started, and I nodded, feeling ill. Ellasbeth brought her attention back from the too-quiet living room. “Jenks thinks it’s because my aura has the same signature as the line it’s coming from,” I said. “Whatever it is, it’s not too bright. It went right past me when we were at the golf course, continuing on until I’d moved my location, so maybe it’s more like a delayed magnetic response.”
“Interesting.” Trent took Ivy’s chair, sitting down with a thoughtful look.
“Trent,” Ellasbeth prompted when the girls began to fight over something.
“They’re fine,” Trent said distantly. “The room is baby-proof and Jenks is in there.”
But Jenks let his kids tease bumblebees, knowing a sting might mean their death. Uncomfortable, I crossed my arms over my chest and leaned against the counter. “David thinks the wave might be caused by a vampire faction that promotes a masterless lifestyle.”
“Free Vampires?” Trent said, surprising me.
“That’s them.” I pushed the flyer to him, and he took it. “There’s been a big jump in their numbers since, ah, Kisten died.” Which was sort of embarrassing, but at least they hadn’t tried to make me a saint’s concubine.
“I looked them up this morning.” Trent’s lips were quirked in an almost smile, knowing firsthand about the playboy living vampire. “They didn’t seem that well organized.”
Ellasbeth sniffed. “David? Isn’t that your insurance friend, Rachel?”
I took an irate breath, words cutting off when Trent interrupted me, saying, “You’d be surprised at the amount of sensitive information insurance companies gather, Ellie. If David says there might be a connection, then it’s worth giving more than a little consideration.”
Miffed, she fiddled with the strap on her purse.
“Personally?” I said, feeling the weight of her stare on me. “I’d rather believe that it’s a natural phenomenon, even if it’s coming from my line and tracking me like a slime mold, because if vampires are doing this, they’re getting the magic to control it from somewhere.”
“Demons,” Trent whispered.
“Well, it wouldn’t be witches,” I said sourly. “I’m scared to even wear a makeup charm.” Especially after seeing what one did to the face of that poor woman at the theater. “There’re easier ways to get rid of vampires. Ways that don’t cause this much fallout.”
I wanted it to be a natural artifact so bad, but with that Kisten look-alike on the bridge, Felix being awake, and the Free Vampire graffiti . . . The living didn’t prey on the undead. It was the other way around. “I was thinking about talking to Al today,” I said hesitantly.
Immediately Trent brightened. “You think he’d tell you if it was demon mischief?”
“No, no, Lucy!” Jenks yelled from the living room. “Don’t put that in your mouth. Hey!”
I shrugged. “I want to look at my line again before I tell Edden about the Free Vampire angle, but honestly, he probably already knows. Their graffiti is everywhere,” I said as Ellasbeth glared at the men to do something about their children. “I should probably tell Edden the waves are following me, though.” Telling Al might be a mistake. Maybe I should take the afternoon and drive out to Loveland and look at my line myself.
The screams from the living room grew more strident. No one moved, and finally Ellasbeth stood, her chair sliding dramatically. Trent touched Ellasbeth’s hand in thanks in passing, then turned to me. “Mind if I come with you?”
Ellasbeth’s pace jerked to a stop, and I blinked. To Al’s? Was he serious?
“A-Ah, why?” I stammered as I pushed up from the counter. “I mean, I don’t mind . . .” I hesitated, remembering how Trent’s freedom seemed to be halved when Quen was around. “Sure. Jenks can’t be in the ever-after when the sun is up, and I’d appreciate the company.”
Quen’s face lost its expression and Ellasbeth stiffened, ignoring the increasing pixy panic from the living room.
“I’ve not seen Algaliarept for over three months,” Trent said, clearly trying to head off their coming protests. “I want to keep the lines of communication open. And I need to thank him for a few things. Or I could just use the vault door and pop over.”
“Sa’han,” Quen said, warning thick in his tone, and Trent leaned confidently back in his chair, ankle coming up to rest on a knee. When done in his office surrounded by his things, it was effective. Here in my kitchen on a hard-backed chair—not so much.
“I’ll be fine,” Trent said confidently. “You and Ellasbeth can mind the girls for a few hours. I’m perfectly safe over there.”
Ellasbeth turned her back on the rising, shrill “Noooo!” from the living room. “Trenton. They’re demons!”
“So is Rachel, and she saved me from a wildly driven golf ball yesterday.” He was being flippant, goading her. “I’ve ridden the Hunt with every demon alive. They all know me. Besides, I’m talking to Algali—” He changed his mind. “I’m talking to Al. Not the entire collective.”
“Sa’han. It’s an unnecessary risk.”
Trent put his foot solidly back on the floor. “Keeping good relations with possible allies is never a risk.”
Framed in the doorway, Ellasbeth put a hand on her hip. “Someone else can do it!”
“There is no one else,” Trent said calmly, but both Quen and I knew that when his hands laced together, it meant he was pissed, and the older elf sighed and backed off. “Things change, Ellasbeth. Ku’Sox is dead. I’m still officially Rachel’s familiar though admittedly emancipated. I’m as safe as you in your lab. Safer.”
There was an uncomfortable silence broken by the girls giggling and then Lucy’s shout.
“Good. We can go this afternoon,” I said to end the discussion, and Trent shot me a grateful glance, even as Ellasbeth let her hand hit her side in disgust. Yawning, I looked at the clock. It was after noon, and Ellasbeth looked dead tired. If she was on West Coast time, it was long past nappies. Trent, too, would be ready for some shut-eye. “You want to wait until after four?” I said. “I want to make some cookies first. Distract him.”
“Mine!” shrilled from the living room, followed by Ray screaming and Lucy’s wail.
“Excuse me,” Ellasbeth said tightly, turning to go into the living room. “No, Lucy, dear. Take him out of your mouth.”
Jenks flew in, looking frazzled as he landed on my shoulder leaking dust from a bent wing. “You okay?” I asked.
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
Trent leaned to look through the hall to the living room, then sat back. “We can go now if you want. My sleep schedule hasn’t been predictable lately.”
“Mine either,” I said, wishing Ellasbeth would leave. “I keep dreaming of purple eyes and wheels with wings.”
Quen’s head snapped up, and I stared at him. What did I say? “Purple eyes?” I prompted, and Quen made a curious, pained expression. “Wings?” I added, and he looked at Trent. A cold feeling slithered out from between my thought and reason, ready to smack me. “What?”
“I don’t know,” Trent said to Quen, not me, mystifying me. “But now that you mention it, it did feel like wild magic at both the golf course and the bowling alley.” Gaze distant, Trent fished his phone out from a pocket. “I thought Rachel was doing some kind of magic.”
“I think she was,” Jenks said sourly, leaking dust as he flew to the sink, and I gave him a look to shut up. Catching a drop from the faucet, he dabbed at his shirt. “But if it’s wild magic, that would explain why her aura goes white every time a wave hits it.”
Quen’s eyes widened, and I pulled myself straight. “Whoa, whoa, whoa!” I said, feeling the conversation spiral out of control. “Jenks, are you telling me that wave is wild magic?” Why is wild magic leaking from my line? And what does that have to do with wheels and wings?
“Sa’han,” Quen protested, but Trent was scrolling rapidly through his numbers when Ellasbeth came to the kitchen archway. Ray was on her hip and Lucy’s hand firmly in her grip. There was a book in the little girl’s hand, and she’d been crying. Ray just looked mad.
“Jenks, you say Rachel’s aura went white?” Trent asked, his intentness scary, almost.
“As white as her ass,” Jenks said, and Ellasbeth walked stiffly between us, pointedly sitting down with the girls and the book. That book is going to last about thirty seconds.
“The waves can’t be wild magic,” I protested.
“I did promise the Goddess two goats I’ve never delivered on.”
“Sa’han,” Quen protested as Ellasbeth looked up from arranging the book before the two girls. “Cincinnati is not plagued with misfires because you haven’t sacrificed two goats.”
Trent tucked his phone away. “No, of course not. But that these waves might be natural phenomena is easier to believe than living vampires preying on the undead. We need more information. Quen, I want you to get ahold of Bancroft’s assistant as soon as you get back to my office. I don’t have his number with me. Invite him out to help me settle a debt with the Goddess and tell him—and only him—what’s going on here, including the undead’s inability to wake up. Offer him the use of a jet to get him here. Oh, and arrange for two goats.”
Suddenly the idea that this might be a natural event didn’t thrill me. Wild magic? Al was going to be pissed.
“You cannot be serious!” Ellasbeth protested, prompting Lucy to begin to bounce, mimicking the woman’s cadence perfectly.
Trent smiled, undeterred. “It’s a good excuse to get him to visit. If we’re going to be elves, we’re going to be elves, by God. I’d like him to officiate so I get it right.”
Ellasbeth simply stared at him. Slowly the book slid to the floor as she struggled with a squirmy Lucy and Ray quietly pushed on her sister to get down. “Bancroft is an old man clinging to traditions we don’t even know the beginnings of anymore,” the woman said. “And you are not going to sacrifice two goats. We aren’t savages!”
I set the doll aside as she ran out. “I don’t care to work for most of the people looking to hire a demon,” I said, thankful the solicitations for evil curses and bad karma spells had stopped.
Trent’s expression was closed when he came in with Ellasbeth. The woman had Lucy on her hip, and the toddler was fussy, clearly not happy with half the toy box still unemptied. There was a book in Ellasbeth’s hand. I knew that wasn’t going to fly: Ray studied, Lucy explored. They were going to be a potent team if they ever learned to understand each other. Seeing Ellasbeth, Trent, and Lucy together, the resemblance was more than obvious, and my smile faltered. Lucy looked a lot like her mother, too. They were the perfect family.
“Ellasbeth is going to stay and help with the girls until the misfires can be explained and rectified,” Trent said as he stood just within the kitchen, not a hint to his mood in his tone.
“Nice,” Jenks muttered, then took off from my shoulder. Lucy began to wiggle, clearly wanting to play in the temporary sunbeam. Ignoring her, Ray turned a page.
Ellasbeth pulled out one of the chairs from the table and sat, expertly wrangling the complaining toddler. Her gaze shifted between Trent and me as if looking for evidence we were lovers. It made me nervous, guilty almost, and I hadn’t really done anything. “It’s not the misfires as much as the out-of-control vampires I’m concerned with,” she said as she tried to distract Lucy with the book.
“Me too,” I said faintly.
Quen, who had stood when Trent came in, nodded. “Very good, Sa’han. I’ll call ahead and have Ellasbeth’s room refreshed.”
Ellasbeth smiled stiffly, giving up on the book and taking the Bite Me Betty doll when I handed it to her. “Thank you, Quen. I’d appreciate that.”
Trent clapped his hands once. “So, Rachel. What have you and Ivy pieced together?”
“Ah, it’s rather sensitive,” I started, and Ellasbeth frowned. “I don’t mind telling you, Ellasbeth,” I added quickly. “Especially since you’ll be dealing with it, but don’t go telling your best friend on the coast.”
She made a short bark of laughter. “I’m a scientist,” she said, sour enough to curdle milk. “I know how important proprietary information is. I can keep my mouth shut.”
She probably did, I mused, having forgotten that aspect of her. “Sorry.” I stood and set Ray down, not liking the image of the two of us dueling over the girls’ affections. The little girl wobbled for a moment, then carefully toddled into the living room and the toys. Lucy wiggled until Ellasbeth had no choice but to let her down.
“Mine!” Lucy shouted, and Jenks darted after them. Ellasbeth stared at Trent, then Quen, frowning when neither man followed them to supervise.
“Jenks is in there,” Trent finally said, and the woman eased back in her chair, clearly not liking it but wanting to leave the room even less.
“Ah, we still have no clue as to why the wave is making the undead sleep,” I said, retreating until the center island counter was between me and Ellasbeth. “But Ivy has been over the raw data from the misfires, and when you figure in my location, there’s an indication that it is ah, attracted to some degree to, ah . . . me.”
Trent swore softly. Quen started, and I nodded, feeling ill. Ellasbeth brought her attention back from the too-quiet living room. “Jenks thinks it’s because my aura has the same signature as the line it’s coming from,” I said. “Whatever it is, it’s not too bright. It went right past me when we were at the golf course, continuing on until I’d moved my location, so maybe it’s more like a delayed magnetic response.”
“Interesting.” Trent took Ivy’s chair, sitting down with a thoughtful look.
“Trent,” Ellasbeth prompted when the girls began to fight over something.
“They’re fine,” Trent said distantly. “The room is baby-proof and Jenks is in there.”
But Jenks let his kids tease bumblebees, knowing a sting might mean their death. Uncomfortable, I crossed my arms over my chest and leaned against the counter. “David thinks the wave might be caused by a vampire faction that promotes a masterless lifestyle.”
“Free Vampires?” Trent said, surprising me.
“That’s them.” I pushed the flyer to him, and he took it. “There’s been a big jump in their numbers since, ah, Kisten died.” Which was sort of embarrassing, but at least they hadn’t tried to make me a saint’s concubine.
“I looked them up this morning.” Trent’s lips were quirked in an almost smile, knowing firsthand about the playboy living vampire. “They didn’t seem that well organized.”
Ellasbeth sniffed. “David? Isn’t that your insurance friend, Rachel?”
I took an irate breath, words cutting off when Trent interrupted me, saying, “You’d be surprised at the amount of sensitive information insurance companies gather, Ellie. If David says there might be a connection, then it’s worth giving more than a little consideration.”
Miffed, she fiddled with the strap on her purse.
“Personally?” I said, feeling the weight of her stare on me. “I’d rather believe that it’s a natural phenomenon, even if it’s coming from my line and tracking me like a slime mold, because if vampires are doing this, they’re getting the magic to control it from somewhere.”
“Demons,” Trent whispered.
“Well, it wouldn’t be witches,” I said sourly. “I’m scared to even wear a makeup charm.” Especially after seeing what one did to the face of that poor woman at the theater. “There’re easier ways to get rid of vampires. Ways that don’t cause this much fallout.”
I wanted it to be a natural artifact so bad, but with that Kisten look-alike on the bridge, Felix being awake, and the Free Vampire graffiti . . . The living didn’t prey on the undead. It was the other way around. “I was thinking about talking to Al today,” I said hesitantly.
Immediately Trent brightened. “You think he’d tell you if it was demon mischief?”
“No, no, Lucy!” Jenks yelled from the living room. “Don’t put that in your mouth. Hey!”
I shrugged. “I want to look at my line again before I tell Edden about the Free Vampire angle, but honestly, he probably already knows. Their graffiti is everywhere,” I said as Ellasbeth glared at the men to do something about their children. “I should probably tell Edden the waves are following me, though.” Telling Al might be a mistake. Maybe I should take the afternoon and drive out to Loveland and look at my line myself.
The screams from the living room grew more strident. No one moved, and finally Ellasbeth stood, her chair sliding dramatically. Trent touched Ellasbeth’s hand in thanks in passing, then turned to me. “Mind if I come with you?”
Ellasbeth’s pace jerked to a stop, and I blinked. To Al’s? Was he serious?
“A-Ah, why?” I stammered as I pushed up from the counter. “I mean, I don’t mind . . .” I hesitated, remembering how Trent’s freedom seemed to be halved when Quen was around. “Sure. Jenks can’t be in the ever-after when the sun is up, and I’d appreciate the company.”
Quen’s face lost its expression and Ellasbeth stiffened, ignoring the increasing pixy panic from the living room.
“I’ve not seen Algaliarept for over three months,” Trent said, clearly trying to head off their coming protests. “I want to keep the lines of communication open. And I need to thank him for a few things. Or I could just use the vault door and pop over.”
“Sa’han,” Quen said, warning thick in his tone, and Trent leaned confidently back in his chair, ankle coming up to rest on a knee. When done in his office surrounded by his things, it was effective. Here in my kitchen on a hard-backed chair—not so much.
“I’ll be fine,” Trent said confidently. “You and Ellasbeth can mind the girls for a few hours. I’m perfectly safe over there.”
Ellasbeth turned her back on the rising, shrill “Noooo!” from the living room. “Trenton. They’re demons!”
“So is Rachel, and she saved me from a wildly driven golf ball yesterday.” He was being flippant, goading her. “I’ve ridden the Hunt with every demon alive. They all know me. Besides, I’m talking to Algali—” He changed his mind. “I’m talking to Al. Not the entire collective.”
“Sa’han. It’s an unnecessary risk.”
Trent put his foot solidly back on the floor. “Keeping good relations with possible allies is never a risk.”
Framed in the doorway, Ellasbeth put a hand on her hip. “Someone else can do it!”
“There is no one else,” Trent said calmly, but both Quen and I knew that when his hands laced together, it meant he was pissed, and the older elf sighed and backed off. “Things change, Ellasbeth. Ku’Sox is dead. I’m still officially Rachel’s familiar though admittedly emancipated. I’m as safe as you in your lab. Safer.”
There was an uncomfortable silence broken by the girls giggling and then Lucy’s shout.
“Good. We can go this afternoon,” I said to end the discussion, and Trent shot me a grateful glance, even as Ellasbeth let her hand hit her side in disgust. Yawning, I looked at the clock. It was after noon, and Ellasbeth looked dead tired. If she was on West Coast time, it was long past nappies. Trent, too, would be ready for some shut-eye. “You want to wait until after four?” I said. “I want to make some cookies first. Distract him.”
“Mine!” shrilled from the living room, followed by Ray screaming and Lucy’s wail.
“Excuse me,” Ellasbeth said tightly, turning to go into the living room. “No, Lucy, dear. Take him out of your mouth.”
Jenks flew in, looking frazzled as he landed on my shoulder leaking dust from a bent wing. “You okay?” I asked.
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
Trent leaned to look through the hall to the living room, then sat back. “We can go now if you want. My sleep schedule hasn’t been predictable lately.”
“Mine either,” I said, wishing Ellasbeth would leave. “I keep dreaming of purple eyes and wheels with wings.”
Quen’s head snapped up, and I stared at him. What did I say? “Purple eyes?” I prompted, and Quen made a curious, pained expression. “Wings?” I added, and he looked at Trent. A cold feeling slithered out from between my thought and reason, ready to smack me. “What?”
“I don’t know,” Trent said to Quen, not me, mystifying me. “But now that you mention it, it did feel like wild magic at both the golf course and the bowling alley.” Gaze distant, Trent fished his phone out from a pocket. “I thought Rachel was doing some kind of magic.”
“I think she was,” Jenks said sourly, leaking dust as he flew to the sink, and I gave him a look to shut up. Catching a drop from the faucet, he dabbed at his shirt. “But if it’s wild magic, that would explain why her aura goes white every time a wave hits it.”
Quen’s eyes widened, and I pulled myself straight. “Whoa, whoa, whoa!” I said, feeling the conversation spiral out of control. “Jenks, are you telling me that wave is wild magic?” Why is wild magic leaking from my line? And what does that have to do with wheels and wings?
“Sa’han,” Quen protested, but Trent was scrolling rapidly through his numbers when Ellasbeth came to the kitchen archway. Ray was on her hip and Lucy’s hand firmly in her grip. There was a book in the little girl’s hand, and she’d been crying. Ray just looked mad.
“Jenks, you say Rachel’s aura went white?” Trent asked, his intentness scary, almost.
“As white as her ass,” Jenks said, and Ellasbeth walked stiffly between us, pointedly sitting down with the girls and the book. That book is going to last about thirty seconds.
“The waves can’t be wild magic,” I protested.
“I did promise the Goddess two goats I’ve never delivered on.”
“Sa’han,” Quen protested as Ellasbeth looked up from arranging the book before the two girls. “Cincinnati is not plagued with misfires because you haven’t sacrificed two goats.”
Trent tucked his phone away. “No, of course not. But that these waves might be natural phenomena is easier to believe than living vampires preying on the undead. We need more information. Quen, I want you to get ahold of Bancroft’s assistant as soon as you get back to my office. I don’t have his number with me. Invite him out to help me settle a debt with the Goddess and tell him—and only him—what’s going on here, including the undead’s inability to wake up. Offer him the use of a jet to get him here. Oh, and arrange for two goats.”
Suddenly the idea that this might be a natural event didn’t thrill me. Wild magic? Al was going to be pissed.
“You cannot be serious!” Ellasbeth protested, prompting Lucy to begin to bounce, mimicking the woman’s cadence perfectly.
Trent smiled, undeterred. “It’s a good excuse to get him to visit. If we’re going to be elves, we’re going to be elves, by God. I’d like him to officiate so I get it right.”
Ellasbeth simply stared at him. Slowly the book slid to the floor as she struggled with a squirmy Lucy and Ray quietly pushed on her sister to get down. “Bancroft is an old man clinging to traditions we don’t even know the beginnings of anymore,” the woman said. “And you are not going to sacrifice two goats. We aren’t savages!”
