Demons of Good and Evil by Kim Harrison

            Done with the fire, Trent jammed the poker into the ground. “Sorry about the early wake-up. They’ve camped before, but never without hot and cold running water.”

            I slumped deeper into myself and glanced at the low sun. “It’s okay.” I blearily scanned the shadowed clearing, realizing Tulpa was gone. “Where’s Quen?”

            “Getting the news.” Shoulders hunched, Trent touched his empty pocket where his phone usually was, then squinted in worry at the woods. “He should have been back half an hour ago.”

            “Mmmm.” I squirmed, sensing a sudden need. “Thanks for the coffee. You, ah, don’t happen to know where the little girls’ room is, do you?”

            Trent smiled, his attention going to Al’s wagon behind me. “The woods, I’m afraid. He won’t let anyone inside.”

            I stood, blanket pulled tighter around my shoulders. “Al?” I questioned hopefully, and he opened one eye. “Can I . . .”

            “No,” he muttered, brightening when Lucy came to him with an acorn and asked him to turn it into a spider.

            Fine. I could pee behind a bush, but someone was going to have to dig a latrine before too much longer. Steps slow and awkward from my bare feet, I started for the tree line, pulling up at the sound of horse hooves.

            “Quen?” I called, all wistful thoughts of my beautiful bathroom gone. But it wasn’t Quen, it was David sitting atop Tulpa, looking as if he was coming in off the prairie in his duster and hat. David knows how to ride?

            “David.” I shifted to intercept him. “Is everything okay? Where’s Quen?”

            “He stayed behind,” David said, and the horse picked up the pace, tail high as he trotted to Trent despite David reining him in. Trent had risen at the sound of hoofbeats, and he cooed and murmured at the horse when it headbutted him, clearly glad to see him.

            “You are a splendid animal,” Trent whispered, fondling the horse’s ears before turning to David. “Coffee?”

            “Yes, please.” David slipped down, hitting the ground with a faint grimace. “Quen was right. He knew exactly where you were.”

            Smiling, Trent began to unsaddle the horse. “He’s my familiar.”

            David gave Tulpa a pat, beaming at the domestic scene. “Wow,” he said, his breath visible with his words. “It’s cold over here.”

            Al made a harrumph as he set both girls down and gave them a trinket to keep them occupied. “It is. Today,” he said, glancing accusingly at me. “At least it isn’t raining.”

            And that is my fault? I thought as I gave David a hug and pulled in deep the complex scent of Were. “So, what’s the news?”

            “About what you would expect.” Shifting, he took a phone from a pocket and handed it to Trent. “Quen sent a replacement for you.”

            “Thank you,” Trent muttered, immediately immersing himself in it, head down and almost walking into the fire as he went to sit before it.

            “Jenks?” I pressed as I led David to the fire and filled an empty mug. “Did you talk to Stef?”

            “No, but they’re both okay.” David sat, mug almost lost in his laced fingers. He glanced at Ray and Lucy as they ran past him to play under the wagon. “Doyle has a car at the church. Jenks and Getty are there, making life hell for anyone who tries to get into your room. Lee has been especially persistent.”

            “He’s alive?” I blurted. “I thought Vivian . . .” My words faltered as Al and Trent exchanged a worried look. “I saw her,” I said, feeling myself warm. “She helped me.”

            David raised a hand. “Rachel, I’m sorry, but if you saw her, it was a Saladan trick.”

            “One that tried to kill him?” I said.

            “Maybe it was to get you to leave,” Trent said, and I frowned, resettling myself on the cold stone. I knew what I’d seen. Vivian had helped me. Ghosts were like that. Sometimes.

            “Regardless,” David said, clearly uncomfortable. “Despite Jenks and Getty’s valiant efforts, the coven has been through the rest of the church. Confiscated everything not in your room, down to your spelling salt.”