Demons of Good and Evil by Kim Harrison

            “Mmmm.” Trent’s steps slowed as we made our way to David, Tulpa slowly trailing us. “What do you think?”

            “I think Lee likes Hodin right where he is,” I said. “I’m more concerned about the coven.” Because for all my bravado, both the coven and the I.S. had warrants out for my arrest—all of which would make it hard to stop the witches from exiling the demons and to prove I didn’t murder Vivian. But as difficult as it was today, it would be impossible if Finnis took the city.

            “All set,” I said as we joined David, but instead of going to the nearby ley line that came out at Eden Park, he faced north, striding through the waving grass, heading into nothing. “Ah, we’re not going to Eden Park?” I said as I hotfooted it to catch up.

            “The coven is watching all the lines,” David said as he checked his watch. “But we have clear passage at the university’s ley line. That’s where Quen is. He can take us to Ivy.”

            And from there? I wondered, not liking my lack of a plan. But seeing as Ivy probably already had one, what was the sense in making my own?

            Pulse fast, I met them, stride for stride, the grass hissing about my calves as the afternoon sun slowly became lost behind the clouds and the wind picked up. Trent looked good in his black, uniform-like slacks and top. David, too, fit the part in his faded jeans, tidy shirt, and ankle-length duster. As for me? Despite having tied my hair back with one of the girls’ ribbons, I was still a mess, wearing stiff, fire-dried jeans and one of Trent’s black sweaters. The man’s bug-out bag was better equipped than my entire closet. Not that I’m complaining, I thought as I glanced at my feet, a pair of Trent’s slippers between me and the earth.

            My books were safe at Al’s wagon, but Dali still had my bag with all its stuff, and it made me twitchy. Fortunately, the ever-after was a small reality, and the university ley line was a ten-minute walk instead of the hour-long hike that it would be in reality.

            “Hey, ah, could you tell me when we’re getting close?” David asked. “I can’t see the line, but it’s around here somewhere. This was where Quen brought me in.” The Were slowed, eyes on the ground. “You can see where Tulpa trampled everything.”

            “There,” Trent said, pointing, and I scuffed to a halt on the flattened grass, bringing up my second sight to find the ley line a mere fifteen feet away.

            Unlike the narrow, tidy thirty-foot line in my garden, the university’s ley line was huge, the shimmering red haze at chest height spanning almost the width of a road and running at least four blocks. Dali had remade it to match the original ley line that had vanished when the lines had gone down. If I remembered correctly, it had taken Dali a very long time to extradite himself from the nothingness of what lay between realities when they had created the original ever-after, scraping a ley line into existence in the process.

            “I don’t see Quen,” Trent said, and I squinted to bring a chalk line image of reality into focus. Slowly the flat, grassy plain became superimposed with the image of Cincy’s streets. Walls were transparent, and cars and people hazy shadows. Seeing the sun and sky simultaneously made them almost too intense to bear, but the longer I studied it, the easier it became.

            “Ah, this is not a clear crossing,” I said as I spotted an I.S. vehicle at the curb.

            “We have a plan for that.” David took his phone and turned on its flashlight. “All I can see is grass. Let me know when he flashes back.”

            Not sure what I was supposed to be looking for, I watched the passing people and cars, thinking it was a rather busy street to shift realities on.

            “There,” Trent said, and though David couldn’t see the small haze of pixy dust, I could.

            “Jenks,” I whispered, my worry for him cascading through me. “What is he doing here? It will be too cold when the sun goes down.”

            “Not where we’re going.” David put his phone in a pocket. “In a few minutes, an entire pack of Weres will come walking down the street with protest signs. When they hit the line, we are going to cross realities right into the middle of them. With some luck, the I.S. won’t notice you. Once we get to the end of the block, we should be clear. They’re watching the line, not the adjacent streets.”

            “Nice.” I reached for Trent’s hand and gave it a squeeze. Energy tingled against my fingers, and his grip tightened. Still, that hint of worry pinched his brow, and I wondered if the threat of incarceration was bothering him. It never had before, but he had two girls waiting for him now and a jealous, wealthy woman eager to gain custody rights.