Demons of Good and Evil by Kim Harrison

            “Aww, that is sweeter than pixy pi—ah, sweat,” Jenks said as he hovered, hands on his hips. “Go on, Rache. We got this.”

            “Okay. Thanks.” Somewhat relieved, I pushed myself up and went to get the girls’ bag next to the register. There was a tall cup of coffee beside it, and, taking both, I shuffled back. “You need Trent’s keys,” I added as I dropped everything on the table and began to rummage. “Make sure you get them in their car seats properly.”

            Jenks was a tight hum by my ear. “I know how a car seat works.”

            Head down, I pushed past Walter’s finding amulet, the adrenaline beginning to trickle through me again. I was going to see Walter, and if he didn’t tell me what I wanted to know, I would pinch off his morphine feed. The mage wants the ring back, my ass.

            “Jenks booked two ponies for ten forty-five. I’ll try to meet you there.”

            Al’s eyebrows rose as I set Trent’s key fob and credit card in his hand. “Ten forty-five,” he drawled, looking charmingly domestic with the girls.

            “Aunt Rachel?”

            It was Lucy, and I jerked to a halt, shoulder bag swinging. Her arms were out, hands opening and closing. She wanted a kiss, and I leaned down, bringing the scent of snickerdoodles and the tang of the ley lines into me. Ray was next, and as I gave her a hug, I thanked Al with my eyes. He was not helpless. He was not worthless. He was healing. I had to believe it.

            “Thanks, Jenks,” I whispered, and his hand touched the hilt of his garden sword.

            “No prob. Go pinch Walter’s ass, er, assets,” he said, his dust red as he glanced at the girls.

            Uneasy, I turned and walked out, thanking Mark for the coffee in passing. I could get a cab at the corner, and from there, the hospital.





CHAPTER


            13

            “Here is fine,” I said as I ran my card before gathering my bag and reaching for the door. “Thanks for the ride.”

            “You got it,” the man said, already having forgotten me, and I stepped out, scanning the hospital’s drop-off area with people on phones, catching a smoke, sitting in their wheelchairs while waiting for their family to bring the car around.

            An odd sort of quashed panic began to tickle the folds of my brain as I walked to the oversize revolving doors. Too many late-night runs into pediatric emergency had left their mark, and I stiffened as I boldly strode into the muffled quiet.

            My mother had once told me that when she was a little girl, you could come and go at the hospital as if you were walking into a grocery store, but homegrown terrorist attacks during the Turn had resulted in more security than it took to get on a plane. Things had eased forty years later, but the eight-foot-wide arch of a spell detector still remained, and, as I had expected, something I was carrying triggered it—probably the charms in my splat gun.

            “Here,” I said when the security guard glanced up from his phone, flashing him my runner’s license. He beeped it with his scanner, checked the screen, and waved me through.

            “Yeah, that’s nice,” I whispered as I skirted the faded white box taped to the floor. Glenn had texted me where Walter was, and I headed for the elevators. C wing, fifth floor. Room 526. I had a pretty good idea where that was, but I slowed as I was passing the display of Underground Railroad quilts. My phone was ringing, and my gut twisted. Trent?

            Grimacing, I hit connect. “Hi,” I said cheerfully, phone to my ear. “You got my text?”

            “Let me talk to Lucy.”

            His voice was terse. It reminded me of when he was ticked at Ellasbeth, and my anger flared. “She is fine,” I said, walking right past the elevators. I could get to C wing on the ground floor and then go up. “Ray, too. Al is watching them while I stop in at the hospital.”

            “You’re hurt?” he gasped, and I felt a headache start.

            “No. Parker mauled Walter, and I want to talk to him. Find out who the mage is.”

            “Oh.” He paused, but his voice was still angry when he added, “I saw the video of you tearing it up with Walter at Junior’s. You left the girls behind a counter with a barista.”