Demons of Good and Evil by Kim Harrison

Author:Kim Harrison [Harrison, Kim]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Publishing Group
Published: 2023-06-13T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER

17

“Still can’t reach her?” Trent asked, and I set my phone in my lap. The swish-thump, swish-thump of the wipers was pleasant in the warmth of the car, and, frustrated, I dropped my phone into my shoulder bag. We’d taken the side streets to avoid the bridge traffic, and now that we were in Cincy, we were hitting every light wrong. It was taking forever to get to the hospital.

“I can’t tell if she’s ignoring me or having a conference call with someone on the West Coast.” Because if she was talking with the coven of moral and ethical standards, she would not hang up to take another call, even if she was the lead member now.

Bis shifted his wings in a nervous tell, the sound of them sliding obvious in the well-insulated sports car. Trent’s attention flicked to the dark back seat where the kid was, his thoughts clearly on what Bis’s claws might be doing to his upholstery.

“Relax, Rache.” The pixy was in his usual spot on the rearview mirror, heels thumping the glass. Though the rain had yet to let up, his dust making a slow, steady stream to the cup holders was as dry as ever, the pixy having made the trip to the car under Trent’s hat. “Vivian is busier than a pixy mother with twelve newlings. You left her a voice mail. She’ll show.”

My grip on my bag tightened, and I dragged it farther up onto my lap. The two spell books made it heavier than usual, and now that I had them with me, I was having second thoughts. “I’ve left three,” I whispered, squinting as the bright lights of the hospital entrance fell over us to shift midnight to noon. A shiver rippled over me, drawn into existence by the memory of pulling up under the lights as a kid, struggling to breathe, my mother scared to death as she carried me in, her stream-of-consciousness babbling an effort to hide her fear.

But that was ages ago.

“Ah, the front might not be a good idea,” I said as the parking attendant glanced up, and Trent gave the man a short wave and continued through the turnaround. “I’ve got two dark magic books with me, and the coven is already thinking about charging me with Walter’s death.”

Trent’s hands clenched the wheel and then eased. “It’s easier to blame the demon you know than find the one you don’t,” he said, and I winced, glad when the comforting, rainy darkness found us again.

“I don’t want to spend thirty minutes in the security office trying to explain,” I said. “Take a right there. We can go through radiology, where they don’t have spell detectors.”

“Radiology it is.” Trent obediently turned the car, and I caught a glimpse of Bis rolling his big red eyes. “I didn’t know they had entrances that lack spell detectors,” Trent added, slowing as we entered a narrow drive. Experience told me it wound around behind the main building to a small parking lot that few people knew about.

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