Pale Demon. Kim Harrison

and out of Ivy’s reach. “That was a black spell!” I yelled, and he retreated to the table, his eyes falling from Jack and Jill. They were motionless, almost slack-jawed, eyes unfocused and hands limp, unable to do anything apart from the most basic things to survive unless told. “You enthralled them, didn’t you!” I exclaimed, and he bowed his head. When it came back up, his eyes met mine with a fervent gleam, unrepentant.

      “What did he do to them?” Ivy said, sidling up next to me. Jenks wasn’t happy either, buzzing over them as they blinked vacantly.

      “He enthralled them,” I said, sure of it when Trent’s lips pursed. “And it’s black.” Damn it, I hadn’t known he could do something that sophisticated. It changed everything.

      “Black?” Jenks yelped, darting up in a wash of yellow dust.

      “Go ahead, ask them who sent them,” Trent said, standing stiffly as he gestured to them. “I know who did, but you wouldn’t believe me if I told you. Not in time, anyway. Go on. It doesn’t last long.”

      Well, that was one bit of good news. “And then what?” I said harshly. “Do you know how illegal those are? This is my kitchen, and I’m the one who’s going to be blamed for this. Or is that your idea?” I said with a sneer, and Ivy caught my arm, thinking I was going to cross the room and smack him.

      “You need to hurry up,” he said, tossing his hair back in a rare show of nervousness. “I have this under control. I’ll hit them with another charm so they don’t remember.”

      I shoved Ivy’s hand from me, shaking as I stood there. “Is that your plan? Make them forget? God, Trent. This is, like, six times illegal!”

      Trent tugged his sleeves down as if unbothered, but his eyes were squinting. “True, but no one gets hurt this way. And I’d think you’d be the last person worrying about what’s legal. You’ve got thirty seconds. Tick tock, Rachel.”

      As I stood there fuming, Jack started to blink. Ivy took my arm again, this time in encouragement, but I couldn’t do it. It was wrong!

      “Oh for Tink’s little red shoes,” Jenks said suddenly, and he darted down to hover before the man. “Who paid you to attack Rachel?” he barked, his hand on his sword hilt.

      “No one,” Jack said, and I turned to Trent, my brow furrowed.

      Jenks’s dust turned green. “You mean you don’t know, or you weren’t paid for it?”

      Trent shifted his weight to his other foot. “They weren’t attacking Rachel, they were attacking me. Try again.”

      Giving me an apologetic shrug, Ivy slipped past me and crouched before Jill, lifting her chin to force her to look at her. “Who told you to attack Trent?” she asked calmly, and I crossed my arms over my chest. I wanted to know, but I’d rather scare it out of them than use black magic.

      “Walter Withon,” they said together, and a knot tightened in my gut.

      “This was a warning,” Trent said with a sigh, his shoulder easing to make him look somewhat embarrassed. No, guarded.

      “Ellasbeth’s dad?” I dropped back a step, my anger fizzling. Crap on toast. Ellasbeth was the woman Trent had been going to marry—until I’d arrested Trent at his own wedding. It was something Trent thanked me for later in a weird bit of honesty when we thought we were both going to die. Yeah, the Withons had the means for a hit, and they might be a little mad. But enough to take potshots at him?

      “Now will you help me?” Trent said, and I took a breath, snapping myself out of my funk. Seeing my eyes on his, Trent smiled wickedly, hands moving in a ley-line charm.

      “Trent, wait …,” I said.

      But it was too late, and I could do nothing when I felt the line he was connected to give a lurch and he whispered, “Memoria cadere.”

      Again, I jerked back, setting up a protection circle around myself since I didn’t know what the man was capable of anymore. Seeing its creation, Ivy flung herself almost under the table, and Jenks darted to the ceiling. I stood tall, heart pounding as a wash of my gold-tinted aura lapped over the circle with all the subtleties of a shadowy pearl-escence. Bis, on the fridge, stirred, his bright red eye cracking open to find me before it slid shut again with a little sigh.

      “Damn it, Trent!” I exclaimed, furious as the assassins sat, wide-eyed, and stared at me, bewildered but clearly no longer enthralled. “What in hell are you doing?”

      “You’re kidding,” he said in disbelief. “You weren’t going to ask them anything, worried it might be ille-e-e-e-gal.”

      He drawled it, mocking me, and I squinted at him, fear of the Withons mixing with the worry of what the assassins could have told us before but now couldn’t. “You did that on purpose!” I shouted.

      His head bowed slightly, and his lips quirked as he eyed me, looking both mischievous and polished. “I told you I was going to.”

      Anger grew in me, but I stayed where I was beside the table, sullen. It couldn’t be undone. Not easily, anyway. “Dr. Anders teach you that?” I muttered. Memory charms weren’t black; they were simply illegal as all hell. It didn’t make me feel any better, though.

      On the floor, the woman felt her chin, shocked when her fingertips came back wet with blood. “Um. Whoa,” she said, looking tense but harmless. “I guess that explains why I have no idea who you people are or how I got here.”

      Her companion nudged her to be quiet, clearly not remembering anything, either, but knowing enough to keep his mouth shut. Bad. This was so bad. Two illegal charms, and if Trent got to the West Coast, he’d probably try to pin them on me if I didn’t become his indentured servant. Damn it back to the Turn! I wasn’t going to play this game!

      Jenks dropped from where he’d been checking on his kids. His hand was on the butt of his sword, and he looked ready to give Trent a lobotomy. “I had more to ask them, even if she didn’t.”

      “You wanted to know who sent them. Now you do. It was wearing off,” Trent insisted, but I could see a hint of unease in him. “Our only other option was to kill them.”

      “Our?” I barked sarcastically. “There is no ‘our.’ This is your doing, not mine.” I spun as Jill started to get up, her alarm obvious. “Park it, Jill!” I said, but it wasn’t until Ivy cleared her throat that both of them checked their upward motion and slid back down.

      “My name isn’t Jill …” the woman started.

      “It is today. So sit down and shut up until I tell you that you can leave. Got it?”

      “Shit,” the man said sourly as he thumped his head back against the fridge and eyed me in mistrust. “I don’t know who was supposed to pay us. Do you?” Jill shook her head. She looked too confused for it to be an act. “Awww, man!” the guy added. “I don’t even know where I left my stuff. This sucks.”

      “See?” Trent said confidently, but that worry wrinkle above his eyes was still there. “It worked. Now we can let them go and be on our way with their employers still thinking we are here.” He smiled, and I hated him. “They won’t be expected to check in for twenty-four hours. We could be long gone by sunset.”

      Jenks’s wings hummed, and Ivy’s face lost its expression. “Sunset?” she said, and I grimaced. She wasn’t going to like this, but it didn’t matter. I wasn’t helping Trent. Not after this. He had stood in my kitchen and performed two illegal charms, one of them black. Ceri was rubbing off on him and not in a good way.

      “I’m not going anywhere with you, you little shoemaker,” I said, trying to figure out what to do with these two. “Especially after that little stunt. Not in a plane, not in a car, not on a train … you’ve gone too far.” I blinked. What the hell?

      “Ah, Rachel?” Ivy touched me, and I jumped. “What’s this about Trent needing your help. Help for what?”