Chapters (43)
- The Outlaw Demon Wails
- Dedication
- 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
- The Undead Pool: An Excerpt
- Chapter 2
- Acknowledgments
- About the Author
- Also by Kim Harrison
- Credits
- About the Publisher
She pulled herself to a stop a few steps away, and her hands fell to her sides as if she didn’t know what to do with them, afraid to reach out. She turned to anger instead. “Why didn’t you call us?” she said, finally reaching hesitantly out and taking that stupid paper bag from me. “We would have picked you up.”
My heart heavy, we headed to the steps. Jenks flew between us trailing a faint silver dust. “She went by herself to kick some black-witch ass,” he said, and Ivy’s gaze sharpened.
“You went to Tom’s?” she said. “We’re a team. It could have waited a few hours.”
I took a breath, and then, right there at the foot of the stairs, I gave her a hug. She stiffened for an instant, then her hands went around me and the crackle of brown paper sounded against my back. Vampire incense grew strong, and my eyes closed as I breathed it in. Immediately my muscles relaxed and the prick of tears grew hot. I’d been so scared, with no way home and a lifetime of degradation facing me. She was my friend, and I could give her a freaking hug if I wanted to.
Ivy’s stiffness grew, and I let go of her with one hand so that we stood more shoulder-to-shoulder than front-to-front. She was nervously watching Glenn for his reaction, but I couldn’t care less. “I didn’t go after him,” I said as she helped me up the stairs. “It sort of happened.”
The door was open, and in the darkness of the foyer and the confusion of two dozen pixies swirling around us and Glenn, I pulled her attention to me by taking her arm. “I’m so glad to see you,” I whispered. “I don’t know what’s going to happen at sunrise. I need your help.”
“What?” she said, concern replacing all her fear-based anger.
But Jenks had cleared the room of his kids, and I pressed my lips together, trying to tell her that I had to talk to her alone. Or at least without Glenn listening.
Her perfect oval face went blank, and I saw her understanding. She turned her upper lip in as she thought, and I let go of her arm. “You want some coffee, Glenn?” she asked suddenly.
My shoulders eased. We’d get Glenn out of here fast by pretending everything was okay. And frankly, I needed to pretend everything was okay—if only for a few minutes.