The Hollows Series Books 1-4. Kim Harrison

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ compared to food. And I’d never be able to eat another chocolate-chip cookie again. “I rewashed my clothes,” I said in a small voice. “I’m not using your sheets or soap anymore.”

      Ivy’s eyes were on the floor when I turned around. “I know,” she said. “I appreciate it. It helps. This isn’t your fault. A vampire’s scent lingers on anyone they live with. It’s a survival trait that tends to lengthen the life of a vampire’s companion by telling other vamps to back off. I didn’t think I would notice it, seeing as we were sharing floor space, not blood.”

      A shudder went through me as I recalled from my basic Latin class that the word companion stemmed from the word for food. “I don’t belong to you,” I said.

      “I know.” She took a careful breath, not looking at me. “The lavender is helping. Maybe if you hung satchels of it in your closet it would be enough. And tried not to get so emotional, especially when we’re—discussing alternative actions?”

      “Okay,” I said softly, realizing how complex this arrangement was going to be.

      “Are you still going out to Kalamack’s tomorrow?” Ivy asked.

      I nodded, relieved at the change of topics. “I don’t want to go without Jenks, but I don’t think I can wait for him to be flightworthy.”

      Ivy was silent for a long moment. “I’ll drive you out. As close as you want to risk it.”

      My mouth dropped open for a second time. “Why? I mean, really?” I quickly amended, and she shrugged.

      “You’re right. If you don’t get this done quickly, you won’t last another week.”

       Seventeen

      “You aren’t going, dear,” Mrs. Jenks said tightly.

      I dumped my last swallow of coffee down the sink, gazing uncomfortably into the garden, bright with the early afternoon sun. I would rather be anywhere else right now.

      “The devil I’m not,” Jenks muttered.

      I turned around, too tired from a morning with not enough sleep to enjoy watching Jenks get henpecked. He was standing on the stainless steel island with his hands aggressively on his hips. Beyond him, Ivy was hunched at her wooden table as she planned three routes to the Kalamack estate. Mrs. Jenks was beside her. Her stiff stance said it all. She didn’t want him to go. And looking the way she did, I wasn’t about to contradict her.

      “I say you aren’t going,” she said, a cord of iron laced through her voice.

      “Mind your place, woman,” he said. A hint of pleading ruined his tough-guy stance.

      “I am.” Her tone was severe. “You’re still broken. What I say goes. That’s our law.”

      Jenks gestured plaintively. “I’m fine. I can fly. I can fight. I’m going.”

      “You aren’t. You can’t. You’re not. And until I say, you’re a gardener, not a runner.”

      “I can fly!” he exclaimed, his wings blurring into motion. He lifted a mere fingerbreadth off the counter and back down. “You just don’t want me to go.”

      She stiffened. “I’ll not have it said you were killed because of my failings. Keeping you alive is my responsibility, and I say you’re broken!”

      I fed Mr. Fish a crushed flake. This was embarrassing. If it had been up to me, I’d let Jenks go, flightless or not. He was recovering faster than I would have believed possible. Still, it had been less than ten hours since he was spouting poetry. I looked at Mrs. Jenks with an inquiring arch to my eyebrows. The pretty pixy woman shook her head. That was it, then.

      “Jenks,” I said. “I’m sorry, but until you have the green, you’re garden-bound.”

      He took three steps, stopping at the edge of the counter. His fists clenched.

      Uncomfortable, I joined Ivy at the table. “So,” I said awkwardly. “You said you have an idea of how I can get in?”

      Ivy took the end of the pen out from between her teeth. “I did some research this morning on the net—”

      “You mean after I went back to bed?” I interrupted.

      She looked up at me with her unreadable brown eyes. “Yes.” Turning away, she rifled through her maps, pulling out a colored brochure. “Here, I printed this out.”

      I sat down as I took it. She had not only printed it out, but had folded it into the usual brochure folds. The colorful pamphlet was an advertisement for guided tours of the Kalamack botanical gardens. “‘Come stroll among the spectacular private gardens of Councilman Trenton Kalamack,’” I read aloud. “‘Call ahead for ticket prices and availability. Closed on the full moon for maintenance.’” There was more, but I had my way in.

      “I’ve got another one for the stables,” Ivy said. “They run tours all year, except for spring, when the foals are born.”

      “How considerate.” I ran a finger over the crayon-bright sketch of the grounds. I had no idea Trent was interested in gardening. Maybe he was a witch. There was a loud, very obvious whine as Jenks flew the short distance to the table. He could fly, but barely.

      “This is fantastic,” I said, ignoring the belligerent pixy as he walked over the paper and into my line of sight. “I was planning on you dropping me off somewhere in the woods so I could hike my way in, but this is great. Thanks.”

      Ivy gave me an honest, closed-lipped smile. “A little research can save a lot of time.”

      I stifled a sigh. If Ivy had her way, we would have a six-step plan posted over the john for what to do if it backed up. “I could fit in a big purse,” I said, warming to the idea.

      Jenks sniffed. “A really big-ass purse.”

      “I have someone who owes me a favor,” Ivy said. “If she bought the ticket, my name wouldn’t be on the roster. And I could wear a disguise.” Ivy grinned to show a faint slip of teeth. I returned it weakly. She looked altogether human in the bright afternoon light.

      “Hey,” Jenks said, glancing at his wife. “I could fit in a purse, too.”

      Ivy tapped her pen on her teeth. “I’ll take the tour, and misplace my purse somewhere.”

      Jenks stood on the brochure, his wings moving in abrupt fits of motion. “I’m going.”

      I jerked the pamphlet out from under him, and he stumbled back. “I’ll meet you tomorrow past the front gate in the woods. You could pick me up just out of sight.”

      “I’m going,” Jenks said louder, ignored.

      Ivy leaned back in her chair with a satisfied air. “Now that sounds like a plan.”

      This was really odd. Last night Ivy had nearly bit my head off when I suggested nearly the same thing. All she needed was to have some input. Pleased СКАЧАТЬ