The Hollows Series Books 1-4. Kim Harrison

If I lived through this, I promised myself I was going to run five miles a day.

      The calling of the dogs shifted. Though faint, their voices sang sweeter, truer, promising they’d soon be with me. It struck like a goad. I dug deeper, finding the will to keep to my pace.

      I ran, pushing my heavy legs up and down. My hair stuck to my face. Thorns and brambles ripped my clothes and hands. The horns and dogs grew closer. I fixed my gaze on Jenks as he flew before me. A fire started in my lungs, growing to consume my chest. To stop would mean my death.

      The stream was an unexpected oasis. I fell into the water and came up gasping. Lungs heaving, I pushed the water from my face so I could breathe. The pounding of my heart tried to outdo the hoarse sound of my breathing. The trees held a frightened hush. I was prey, and everything in the forest was silently watching, glad it wasn’t them.

      My breath rasped at the sound of the dogs. They were closer. A horn blew, pulling fear through me. I didn’t know which sound was worse.

      “Get up, Rachel!” Jenks urged, glowing like a will-o’-the-wisp. “Go down the stream.”

      I scrambled up, lurching into a slogging run in the shallows. The water would slow me down, but it would slow the dogs down, too. It would only be a matter of time before Trent would split the pack to search both sides of the stream. I wasn’t going to get out of this one.

      The pitch of the dogs singing faltered. I surged out onto the bank in a panic. They had lost the scent. They were right behind me. Visions of being torn apart by dogs spurred me on though my legs could hardly move. Trent would paint his forehead with my blood. Jonathan would save a lock of my hair in his top dresser drawer. I should have told Trent I hadn’t sent that demon. Would he have believed me? He wouldn’t now.

      The burble of a motorbike brought a cry from me. “Ivy,” I croaked, reaching out to support myself against a tree. The road was just ahead. She must have already been on her way. “Jenks, don’t let her go past me,” I said between gasps for air. “I’ll be right behind you.”

      “Gotcha!”

      He was gone. I stumbled into motion. The dogs were baying, soft and questing. I could hear the sound of voices and instructions. It pushed me into a run. A dog sang clear and pure. Another answered it. Adrenaline scoured through me.

      Branches whipped my face and I fell into the road. My skinned palms stung. Too breathless to cry out, I forced myself up from my knees. Staggering, I looked down the road. A white light bathed me. The roar of a motorbike was an angel’s blessing. Ivy. It had to be. She must have been on her way before I broke the amulet.

      I got to my feet, listing as my lungs heaved. The dogs were coming. I could hear the thump of horses’ hooves. I started a jolting, weaving jog toward the approaching light. It rushed upon me in a sudden surge of noise, sliding to a halt beside me.

      “Get on!” Ivy shouted.

      I could hardly lift my leg. She pulled me up behind her. The engine thrummed under me. I gripped her waist and struggled not to fall into the dry heaves. Jenks buried himself in my hair, his tight grip almost unnoticed. The bike lurched, spun, and leapt forward.

      Ivy’s hair flew back, stinging as it hit me. “Did you get it?” she shouted over the wind.

      I couldn’t answer. My body was trembling from the abuse. The adrenaline had spent itself out, and I was going to pay for it in spades. The road hummed under me. The wind pulled my heat away, turning my sweat cold. Fighting back the nausea, I reached with numb fingers to feel the reassuring bump of a disc in a front pocket. I patted her shoulder, unable to use my breath for anything other than breathing.

      “Good!” she shouted over the wind.

      Exhausted, I let my head rest against Ivy’s back. Tomorrow I’d stay in bed and shake until the evening paper came. Tomorrow I’d be sore and unable to move. Tomorrow I’d put bandages on the welts from the branches and thorns. Tonight … I’d just not think about tonight.

      I shivered. Feeling it, Ivy turned her head. “Are you all right?” she shouted.

      “Yeah,” I said into her ear so she could hear me. “Yeah, I am. Thanks for coming to get me.” I pulled her hair out of my mouth and looked behind me.

      I stared, riveted. Three horsemen stood on the ribbon of moonlit road. The hounds were milling about the horses’ feet as they pranced with nervous, arched necks. I had just made it. Chilled to the core of my soul, I watched the middle rider touch his brow in a casual salute.

      An unexpected pull went through me. I had bested him. He knew and accepted it, and had the nobility to acknowledge it. How could you not be impressed by someone that sure of himself. “What the hell is he?” I whispered.

      “I don’t know,” Jenks said from my shoulder. “I just don’t know.”

       Thirty-Four

      Midnight jazz goes very well with crickets, I thought as I sprinkled the chopped tomato on the tossed salad. Hesitating, I stared at the red globs among the leafy green. Glancing out the window at Nick standing before the grill, I picked them all out and tossed the lettuce again to hide what I had missed. Nick would never know. It wasn’t as if it would kill him.

      The sound and smell of cooking meat pulled at me, and I leaned past Mr. Fish on the sill to get a better look. Nick was wearing an apron that said “Don’t stake the cook, cook the steak.” Ivy’s, obviously. He looked relaxed and comfortable as he stood at the fire in the moonlight. Jenks was on his shoulder, darting upward like fall leaves in the wind when the fire spurted.

      Ivy was at the table, looking dark and tragic as she read the late edition of the Cincinnati Enquirer in the light of a candle. Pixy children were everywhere, their transparent wings making shimmering flashes when they reflected the moon, three days past full. Their shouts as they tormented the early fireflies broke into the muted roar of Hollows’ traffic, making a comfortable mix. It was the sound of security, reminding me of my own family’s cookouts. A vamp, a human, and a posse of pixies were an odd sort of family, but it was good to be alive in the night with my friends.

      Content, I juggled the salad, a bottle of dressing, and the steak sauce and backed out the screen door. It slammed behind me, and Jenks’s kids shrieked, scattering into the graveyard. Ivy looked up from the newsprint as I set the salad and bottles beside her. “Hey, Rachel,” she said. “You never did tell me how you got that van. Did you have any trouble taking it back?”

      My eyebrows rose. “I didn’t get the van. I thought you did.”

      As one, we turned to Nick, standing at the grill with his back to us. “Nick?” I questioned, and he stiffened almost imperceptibly. Full of a questioning speculation, I grabbed the steak sauce and eased up behind him. Waving Jenks away, I slipped an arm around Nick’s waist and leaned close, delighted when his breath caught and he gave me a look of surprised speculation. What the heck. He was a nice guy for a human. “You stole that truck for me?” I asked.

      “Borrowed,” he said, blinking as he remained carefully unmoving.

      “Thank you,” I said, smiling as I handed the bottle of steak sauce to him.

      “Oh, Nick,” Jenks mocked in a high falsetto. “You’re my hero!”

      My breath slipped from me in bother. Sighing, I let my hand drop from around Nick’s waist and stepped back. From behind us came Ivy’s snort of amusement. Jenks made kissing noises as he circled Nick and me, and fed up, I darted my hand out.

      Jenks jerked back, hovering in surprise as I almost got him. “Nice,” he said, darting off to bother Ivy. “And how’s your new job going?” he drawled as he landed before her.

      “Shut up, Jenks,” she warned.

      “Job? You have another run?” I asked as she shook open the newsprint and hid behind it.