American Demon by Kim Harrison

Author:Kim Harrison
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Ace
Published: 2020-06-15T23:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER

20

The street was quiet and sunny, homey, with leaves piled at the curb, and I frowned at the truck parked outside of Keasley’s old house. A new sapling had been planted in the front yard, and it somehow made me feel left out. I missed the old man who had stitched up my vamp bites and gave out wise-old-man crap when I needed to hear it, but he’d vanished shortly after I figured out who he really was, which was probably safer—for him. “Have you been to visit Jhi?” I asked Jenks, now huddled on my shoulder for the quick trip from Trent’s borrowed car to the church.

“No.” Jenks’s wings pressed cold against me. “She wasn’t sure there’d be anyone in the house by winter, much less if that person would like pixies. She’s hibernating this year.”

His worry was obvious, and I forced a smile. “She’ll be fine. She’s young and in good health.” Fatigue pulled at me as I took the stairs to the front door, weaving through the offerings left by thankful freed familiars. And then I stopped, shocked to see the doors wide-open before I remembered that I’d magicked them that way when catching Zack.

“Great, they’ve been open all night,” I whispered, grimacing at the coming heating bill. “Sorry about that, Jenks. You want to check for squatters while I get these shut?”

“Don’t worry about it,” he said, and then he was gone, inside to do a quick perimeter.

Let go! Let go! I thought as I grabbed one of the doors and tugged, finally unsticking it with a swift yank. Mood bad, I slammed the doors shut behind me, boots crunching on the leaves that had blown in. Frowning, I tapped the thermostat, satisfied when I heard it click on.

“No squatters downstairs, Rache,” Jenks said as he came back and slammed both feet against the light switch to turn it on. “I’m going to check the belfry.”

“Thanks,” I said, but he was already in the foyer’s stairway. My bag slipped from my shoulder, jerking the to-go cup of coffee I’d gotten at Junior’s and making it spill. I sighed at the brown puddle among the wet leaves, tempted to leave it, but I could hear Ivy in the back of my thoughts clearing her throat.

I was tired, and it didn’t help that I’d had to borrow one of Trent’s cars to get here. No-doze amulet swinging, I strode to the stage. My purse and the bag with my new spelling robe went on the couch, and the dripping paper cup on the slate table. There was a sawdust-covered box of tissue on one of the end tables, and after I pulled a few, I went back to blot up the mess.

There wasn’t enough caffeine to get through today.

Soggy mess in hand, I headed for the fifty-five-gallon trash barrel only to slide to a halt when Jenks darted right in front of me, wings clattering.

“Watch the hole,” he said, and I blinked, two feet from walking right into the crawl space.

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