Demons of Good and Evil by Kim Harrison

            “You need to pause,” he said, voice low. “I’ve survived through ugly turns such as this. Much as I am loath to admit it, your elf is right. Those who pause to think, survive. Those who react . . .” His eye twitched, and his focus went distant. “Tend not to,” he finished.

            I bit my lower lip to try to keep from crying in front of him. I knew he was right, but Vivian was dead because I hadn’t trusted her, and I couldn’t simply help Trent set up camp and go to sleep. “His name is Trent,” I said instead, and Al frowned in confusion. “He’s not my elf.”

            Al grunted as if pained. “Trent is right,” he grumbled. “Your power structure is still there. Sleep. Eat. Give Lee a chance to think he’s safe. Find out his next move. Counter it. This is not unexpected. It is only unfortunate.”

            But my heart hurt, and all I wanted to do was pound Lee until he quit moving.

            “Please, Rachel,” Al whispered, his hand finding my shoulder again. “Don’t try to do this alone. You are not alone. Don’t force yourself to be.”

            His hand was warm on me, and my head bowed. “Just go back to the fire,” I said bitterly. “Wait until morning. Like I’ll even sleep. You make it sound so easy.”

            And yet, Al exhaled, clearly relieved as I let him turn me around. “I know this pain,” he said softly. “The pause isn’t easy. But it will keep you alive.”





CHAPTER


            26

            “Hot it, Daddy! Hot it!” Lucy whined, and I pulled the covers over my head. The girl’s high-pitched complaint cut right through the thick sleeping bag to let the sunshine in. I was awake.

            Sitting up, I found myself inches from the double-insulated tent’s ceiling. The air mattress under me squished until my butt hit the cold earth, and I didn’t move, staring at the hazy sunrise through the trees and feeling tired as Lucy continued to wail. At least it’s not raining.

            Trent’s “bug-out bag” was a little more complex than mine, but in all fairness, he did have a more complicated life. Or so it seemed on the surface.

            I exhaled as Lucy continued to cry, waiting for the will to breathe in again. The spot beside me where Trent had been was long cold, and I tugged the sleeping bag straight. My pearl ring was glowing after I’d spooned against Trent all night. Vivian had once told me it was on the wrong finger, and my gut hurt as a pang of heartache found me. She was gone. Vivian had died because I hadn’t been forthright about the curse. If I had, she would have known it was lethal and still be alive. That she wasn’t was my doing.

            It was the smell of coffee that finally pulled me crawling from the tent. Bits of sticks and grass stuck to my palms as I got to my feet, and I was in desperate need of my toothbrush currently sitting an entire reality away. Al had said I’d feel better in the morning, but all I felt was cold and slow.

            Trent was at the smoldering fire with Lucy, trying to braid her hair through the distracting birdsong. Across from them were Ray and Al. They both had their eyes closed as if sleeping, but I’d be willing to bet he was teaching her how to still her thoughts. Bis had come in during the night, and his hunched silhouette beside Treble on Al’s roof made him look tiny. The only one missing was Jenks, and I felt a pang of guilt as I silently sat down beside Trent and Lucy. Jenks had been trying to tell me about Vivian—and I hadn’t listened, utterly blowing him off in my concern to get to Trent.

            “Good morning,” Trent said, his concentration fully on Lucy as I poked at the fire. She was singing about spiders and waterspouts, and I smiled. “Coffee?”

            “Please,” I whispered, and Al cracked an eye, chuckling as he resettled Ray and the two resumed their drowse. The demon was positively content, and I wondered at the restorative power of children, grounding us in what was real. Ellasbeth was probably angry that Quen had cut her weekend short, livid that he was on the run with them. The only child she had any legal right to was Lucy, and I wondered if Quen had done something drastic to take custody of her.

            The bright chattering of the coffee into a mug was more than pleasant, and I lost myself for a moment, my bare feet on the cold ground, a warm mug in hand, me breathing in the nutty scent and enjoying my first sip. Trent nodded in satisfaction, then turned to reorganize the burning logs to a brighter flame. He seemed different in jeans and a thick wool shirt, his hair unstyled and woodsmoke on his clothes. As I huddled on the dew-damp cushion before the warm fire and hitched a blanket smelling of burnt amber around my shoulders, I wondered if perhaps it might be time to quit. Someone else could save the world from here on out.