Every Which Way But Dead (39 page)

The disk above me looked innocuous enough, but I knew it was still functioning when Trent glanced at it and paled. I guessed he was using his second sight. “You can't break that,” he said. “But you don't need to. Can you make a protection circle big enough for both of us?”

My eyes widened. “You want to ride it out in a protection circle? You
are
crazy! The minute I hit it, down it goes!”

Trent looked angry. “How big, Morgan?”

“But I tripped the alarms last time just looking at it!”

“So what!” he exclaimed, his confidence cracking. It was nice to see him shaken, but under the circumstances, I couldn't enjoy it. “Trip the alarms! The disk doesn't stop you from tapping a line and making a spell. It only catches you when you do. Make the damned circle!”

“Oh!” I looked at him in understanding, my first wild hope dying. I couldn't tap a line to make a protection circle. Not sitting on water as I was. “Um, you make it,” I said.

He seemed to start. “Me? It takes me a good five minutes with chalk and candles.”

Frustrated, I groaned. “What kind of an elf are you!”

“What kind of a runner are you?” he shot back. “I don't think your boyfriend will mind if you tap a line through him to save your life. Do it, Morgan. We're running out of time!”

“I can't.” I spun in a tight circle. Through the unbreakable glass, Cincinnati glowed.

“Screw your damned honor, Rachel. Break your word to him or we're dead!”

Miserable, I turned back to him.
He thought I was honorable?
“That's not it. I can't draw on a line through Nick anymore. The demon broke my link with him.”

Trent went ashen. “But you gave me a shock in the car. That was too much for what a witch can hold in his or her chi.”

“I'm my own familiar, okay!” I said. “I made a deal with a demon to be its familiar so it would testify against Piscary, and I had to learn how to store ley line energy for it. Oh, I've got tons of energy, but a circle requires you stay connected to a line. I can't do it.”

“You're a demon's familiar?” His face looked horrified, frightened, scared of me.

“Not anymore!” I shouted, angry to have to admit it had even happened. “I bought my freedom. Okay? Get off my case! But I don't have a familiar, and I can't tap a line over water!”

From my bag came the faint sound of my phone ringing. Trent stared at me. “What did you give it for your freedom?”

“My silence.” My pulse hammered. What difference did it make if Trent knew? We were both going to die.

Grimacing as if having decided something, Trent took off his coat. Shaking his sleeve down, he undid the cuff link and pushed his sleeve past his elbow. “You aren't a demon's familiar?” It was a soft, worried whisper.

“No!” I was shaking. As I watched in slack-eyed confusion, he grabbed my arm just below the elbow. “Hey!” I shouted, pulling away.

“Deal with it,” he said grimly. Gripping my arm harder, he used his free hand to force me to take his wrist in the same grip acrobats use when working the trapeze. “Don't make me regret this,” he muttered, and my eyes widened when a rush of line energy flowed into me.

“Holy crap!” I gasped, almost falling. It was wild magic, having the uncatchable flavor of the wind. He had joined his will to mine, tapping a line through his familiar and giving it to me as if we were one. The line coming through him and into me had taken on a tinge of his aura. It was clean and pure with the taste of the wind, like Ceri's.

Trent groaned, and my eyes shot to his. His face was drawn and sweat had broken out on him. My chi was full, and though the extra energy was looping back to the line, apparently the stuff I had spindled already in my head was burning through him.

“Oh God,” I said, wishing there was a way I could shift the balance. “I'm sorry, Trent.”

His breath came in a ragged gasp. “Make the circle,” he panted.

Eyes jerking to his timepiece swinging from its fob, I said the invocation. We both staggered as the force running through us ebbed. I didn't relax at all as the bubble of ley line energy blossomed about us. I glanced at his watch. I couldn't see how much time was left.

Trent tossed his hair from his eyes, not letting go of my arm. Eyes looking haggard, he ran his gaze over the gold smeared bubble over us to the people beyond. His expression went empty. Swallowing hard, he shifted his grip tighter. Clearly it wasn't burning him any longer, but the pressure would steadily build to its previous levels. “It's really big,” he said, looking at the shimmer. “You can hold an undrawn circle this big?”

“I can hold it,” I said, avoiding his eyes. His skin pressing against mine was warm and there were tingles coming from it. I didn't like the intimacy. “And I wanted it large so we have some leeway when the shock hits us. As soon as you let go or I touch it—”

“It falls,” Trent finished for me. “I know. You're babbling, Morgan.”

“Shut up!” I exclaimed, nervous as a pixy in a room full of frogs. “You may be used to having bombs blow up around you, but this is my first time!”

“If you're lucky, it won't be the last,” he said.

“Just shut up!” I snapped. I hoped my eyes weren't as scared looking as his. If we survived the blast, there was still the aftermath to get through. Falling chunks of boat and icy water. Great. “Um, how long?” I asked, hearing my voice shake. My phone was ringing again.

He glanced down. “Ten seconds. Maybe we should sit down before we fall.”

“Sure,” I said. “That's probably a good ide—”

I gasped as a boom shook the floor. I reached for Trent, desperate that our grip on each other not break. The floor pushed up at us, and we fell. He clutched at my shoulder, pulling me into him to keep me from rolling away. Pressed against him, I could smell silk and aftershave.

My stomach dropped, and a flash of fire burst around us. I screamed as my ears went numb. In an unreal, soundless motion, the boat broke apart as we rose. The night became smears of black sky and red fire. The tingle of the circle breaking washed over me. Then we fell.

Trent's grip was torn away, and I cried out when fire raced over me. My explosion-numbed ears filled with water and I couldn't breathe. I wasn't burning, I was drowning. It was cold, not hot. Panicking, I fought against the heavy water pushing at me.

I couldn't move. I didn't know which way was up. The dark was full of bubbles and chunks of boat. A faint glow to my left caught my attention. I gathered myself and aimed for it, telling my brain it was the surface even though it seemed to be sideways, not up.

God, I hoped it was the surface.

I burst from the water, my ears still not working. The cold struck me, freezing. I gasped, the air like knives in my lungs. I took another thankful breath. I was so cold it hurt.

Pieces of boat were still falling, and I tread water, thankful that I wore a dress I could move in. The water tasted like oil, and the swallow I had taken in hung heavy in me.

“Trent!” I shouted, hearing it as if through a pillow. “Trent!”

“Here!”

I shook the wet hair from my eyes and turned. Relief went though me. It was dark, but through the floating ice and wood, I saw Trent. His hair was plastered against him, but he looked unhurt. Shivering, I kicked off the one heel that I still had on and started toward him. Bits of boat were making the odd splash. How could it still be falling? I wondered. There was enough flotsam between us to build two boats.

Trent started forward with a professional looking stroke. Apparently he had learned to swim. The glimmer of fire on the icy water brightened around us. Looking up, I gasped. Something big and burning had yet to come down.

“Trent!” I shouted, but he didn't hear me. “Trent, look out!” I screamed, pointing. But he wasn't listening. I dove, trying to escape.

I was flung as if smacked. The water around me turned red. I lost most of the air from my lungs when something hit me, bruising my back. The water saved me, though, and with my lungs aching and my eyes smarting, I followed my exhaled breath to the surface.

“Trent!” I called as I emerged from the icy water and into the burning cold of the night. I found him holding a cushion that was rapidly filling with water. His eyes met mine, unfocused. The light from the burning boat was dimming, and I swam for him. The dock was gone. I didn't know how we were going to get out of there.

“Trent,” I said, coughing when I reached him. My ears were ringing, but I could hear myself. I spit the hair out of my mouth. “Are you okay?”

He blinked as if trying to focus. Blood seeped from under his hairline, making a brown streak in his fair hair. His eyes closed, and I watched in horror when his grip on the cushion went slack. “No, you don't,” I said, reaching out before he could slip under.

Shivering, I wrapped an arm about his neck, tucking his chin against the inside of my elbow. He was breathing. My legs were going slow from the cold and my toes were cramping. I looked for help. Where in hell was the I.S.? Someone must have seen that explosion.

“Never around when you need them,” I muttered, shoving a chunk of ice as large as a chair out of my way. “Probably out giving someone a ticket for selling expired charms.” The dock was gone. I had to get us out of the water, but the break wall was three feet of concrete. The only way out was to get back onto the ice and walk to another dock.

A sound of desperation came from me as I struck out for the edge of the hole the blast had ripped in the ice. I'd never make it even with the slow current. The water was starting to creep higher up me, and my movements were slower and harder to make. I wasn't cold anymore, either, and that scared the hell out of me. I could probably make it…if I weren't dragging Trent.

“Damn it all to hell!” I shouted, using my anger to keep moving. I was going to die here, trying to save his ass. “Why didn't you tell me what you were doing, Kisten!” I exclaimed, feeling my tears like fire leaking out of me as I swam. “Why didn't I tell you where I was going?” I yelled back at myself. “I'm a dumbass. And your stupid watch is fast, Trent! Did you know that? Your stupid…” I took a sobbing breath. “…watch is fast.”

My throat hurt, but the motion seemed to warm me. The water felt positively balmy now. Panting, I stopped swimming, treading water. My vision blurred when I realized I was almost there. A big chunk of ice was in my way, though, and I'd have to swim around it.

Taking a resolute breath, I shifted my leaden arm and kicked my legs. I couldn't feel them anymore, but I assumed they were moving since the eight-inch-thick shelf of ice seemed to be moving closer. The last of the light from the burning boat made little red smears on the ice as I reached out and touched it. My hand slid cleanly away to pull in snow, and I sank. Adrenaline pounded through me and I kicked back to the surface. Trent sputtered and coughed.

“Oh, Trent,” I said, water filling my mouth. “I forgot you were here. You first. Come on. Up on the ice.”

Using the questionable leverage of what looked like part of the casino's bar, I got Trent halfway up onto the frozen river. Tears slipped down my face as I was now able to use both arms to keep myself afloat. I hung for a moment, my hands unfeeling in the snow while I rested my head atop the ice. I was so tired. Trent wasn't drowning. I had done my job. Now I could save myself.

I reached up to pull myself onto the ice—and failed. Snow fell in to make puddles of slush. Switching tactics, I tried to lever my leg up. It wouldn't move. I couldn't move my leg.

“Okay,” I said, not as scared as I thought I ought to be. The cold must have numbed everything—even my thoughts felt blurry. I was supposed to be doing something, but I couldn't remember what. I blinked as I saw Trent, his legs still in the water.

“Oh, yeah,” I whispered. I had to get out of the water. The sky above me was black, and the night was silent but for the ringing in my ears and the faint sound of sirens. The light from the fires was dim and going dimmer. My fingers wouldn't work, and I had to use my arms like clubs to pull a chunk of boat closer. Concentrating to not lose my thought, I pushed it under to buoy me up. A groan slipped from me when, with its help, I managed to slip a leg up onto the ice. I rolled awkwardly and lay panting. The wind was like fire on my back, and the ice was warm. I'd done it.

“Where is everyone?” I breathed, feeling my flesh hard against the cold ice. “Where's Ivy? Where's the fire department? Where's my phone?” I giggled as I remembered it was at the bottom of the river with my purse, then sobered as I thought of the unconscious people drifting downward through the icy water in their best finery to join it. Hell, I'd kiss even Denon, my old, despised boss from the I.S., if he showed up.

That reminded me. “Jonathan,” I whispered. “Oh, Jo-o-oo-onathan,” I sang. “Where are you? Come out, come out, wherever you are—you tall freak of nature.”

I lifted my head, glad I was pointed in the right direction. Squinting past my stringy hair, I could see a light where the limo sat. The headlights were aimed at the river, shining to show the destruction and the sinking bits of boat. Jonathan's silhouette stood at the quay. I could tell it was him because he was the only person I knew who was that tall. He was looking the wrong way. He'd never see me, and I couldn't shout anymore.

Damn it. I was going to have to get up.

I tried. I really did. But my legs wouldn't work and my arms just lay there, ignoring me. Besides, the ice was warm, and I didn't want to get up. Maybe if I shouted he'd hear me.

I took a breath. “Jonathan,” I whispered. Oh hell, this wasn't going to work.

I took another breath. “Jonathan,” I said, hearing it around my ringing ears. I pulled my head up, watching as he didn't move to look. “Never mind,” I said, letting my head fall back onto the ice. The snow was warm, and I pressed into it. “This is nice,” I mumbled, but I don't think it made it past my thoughts into real words.