Chapters (42)
- Title Page
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-one
- Twenty-two
- Twenty-three
- Twenty-four
- Twenty-five
- Twenty-six
- Twenty-seven
- Twenty-eight
- Twenty-nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-one
- Thirty-two
- Thirty-three
- Thirty-four
- Thirty-five
- Thirty-six
- Acknowledgements
- Also by Kim Harrison
- Copyright
- About the Publisher
- Cover
No, I didn’t want Al to do it. He’d likely pick him up and throw him across the room. Knees protesting, I knelt on the hard marble floor. My jaw clenched as I turned Pierce’s head to me and lifted his eyelids to make sure his pupils were dilating the way they should. He looked like he was sleeping, but there were twin lumps under his hair when I felt for them. The softly curling black was like silk on my fingertips, and I sat back on my heels and exhaled. He was probably going to be okay.
“Now, Rachel.”
Giving Al a nasty look, I stood and grabbed Pierce under his shoulders. Straining, I shuffled backward, dragging him past the table and across the expanse to the fire pit. There was no way I could get him off the floor and onto the bench, so I left him there, taking a moment to arrange his arms and legs. Where did Pierce get silk socks?
“I can’t believe you knocked him out,” I said, then ducked when Al threw something at me. I spun to see a heavy copper pyramid thunk into the wall, leaving a dent.
“I told him not to come,” Al said with an empty, vaguely jealous slant to his eyes. “I don’t want him seeing this. Forget the fire. You won’t be here long enough to get cold.”
I glanced at Pierce, seeing his slow, even breaths. Mood sour, I picked up the heavy pyramid and set it on the table with an attention-getting thump. “I hate you, Al,” I said, but he only started to hum as he sat on his stool with a flourish and began arranging things. “I really do,” I offered again. “What if he’s seriously hurt?”
Al calmly looked at me over his glasses. “Then I’ll fix him after our chat and before I send him back to you. We don’t want Newt saying I left you with an inferior chaperone. He’ll be fine. Sit. Unless you want to keep my name?”
My heart gave a thump, and I eased into Ceri’s chair, wondering if I was following in her footsteps and would spend the next millennia thinking this thing before me in lace and velvet was my world.
Seeing him busy with the bag of salt, I reached for a gold candle. Al slapped my hand, and I scowled at him.
“You watch,” he said as I shoved my stinging hand under my arm. “I’ll tell you when I need you, not before.”
“Fine with me,” I said tightly. I glanced at Pierce, but his eyes were still shut.