The Hollows Series Books 1-4. Kim Harrison

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СКАЧАТЬ me, but I had just married Matalina. She kept me alive until the toxins worked their way out.”

      Nick shook his head slowly. “You win,” he said. “I can’t beat that.”

      Jenks rose several inches in pride. I didn’t know what to say. My stomach rumbled, and in the obvious silence afterward I murmured, “Nick, can I make you a sandwich or something?”

      His brown eyes meeting mine were warm. “If it’s not too much trouble.”

      I rose and shuffled in my pink fuzzy slippers to the fridge. “No trouble at all. I was going to make myself something to eat anyway.”

      Ivy finished putting the last of the glasses away and started cleaning the sink with scouring powder. I gave her a sour look. The sink didn’t need cleaning. She was just being nosy. Upon opening the fridge, I silently assessed the take-out bags from four different restaurants. Apparently Ivy had been grocery shopping. Shuffling about, I found the bologna and a head of browning lettuce. My eyes went to the tomato on the windowsill and I bit my lower lip, hoping Nick hadn’t seen it yet. I didn’t want to offend him. Most humans wouldn’t touch a tomato with a gloved hand. Shifting to block his view, I hid it behind the toaster.

      “Still eating, are we?” Ivy murmured under her breath. “A moment on the lips …”

      “I’m hungry,” I muttered back. “And I’m going to need all my strength tonight.” I stuck my head back in the fridge for the mayonnaise. “I could use your help if you have the time.”

      “Help with what?” Jenks asked. “Getting tucked into bed?”

      I turned with my hands full of sandwich stuff and elbowed the fridge shut. “I need your help bringing in Trent. And we only have until midnight to do it.”

      Jenks’s flight bobbled. “What?” he said flatly, every drop of humor gone.

      I pulled my weary gaze up to Ivy. I knew she wasn’t going to like this. If the truth be told, I’d been waiting until Nick was present, hoping that with a witness, she wouldn’t make a scene.

      “Tonight?” Ivy put the back of her wrist on her leather hip huggers and stared. “You want to make a run for him tonight?” Her eyes went to Nick and back to me. Tossing her rag into the sink, she dried her hands on a dish towel. “Rachel, can I talk to you in the hallway?”

      My brow furrowed at her implied insult that Nick couldn’t be trusted. But then heaving a sigh of exasperation, I dumped everything in my arms onto the counter. “Excuse me,” I said, giving Nick an apologetic grimace.

      Peeved, I followed her out. I abruptly slowed at the sight of her standing halfway down to our rooms, her waspish outline looking dangerous in the dark hallway. The overpowering smell of incense in the close confines pulled me wire-tight. “What?” I said shortly.

      “Letting Nick know about your little problem isn’t a good idea,” she said.

      “He has been a rat for three months,” I said, backing up. “How on earth could he be an I.S. assassin? The poor man doesn’t even have any clothes, and you’re worried about him killing me?”

      “No,” she protested, moving closer until I found my back against the wall. “But the less he knows about you, the safer you both will be.”

      “Oh.” My face went cold. She was too close. Having lost her sense of personal space was not a good sign.

      “And what are you going to accuse Trent of?” she demanded. “Keeping you as a mink? Putting you in the city’s fights? If you go whining to the I.S. for that, you’re dead.”

      Her speech had slowed to a sultry drawl. I had to get out of this hallway. “After three days with him, I have more than that.”

      From the kitchen came Nick’s voice. “The I.S.?” he said loudly. “Are they the ones that put you in the rat fights, Rachel? You aren’t a black witch, are you?”

      Ivy jerked. Her eyes flashed to brown. Looking disconcerted, she backed up. “Sorry,” she said softly. Clearly not pleased, Ivy returned to the kitchen. Relieved, I followed, to find Jenks on Nick’s shoulder. I wondered if Nick had acute hearing or if Jenks had relayed everything to him. I was betting on the latter. And Nick’s question about black witchcraft had been disturbing in its casualness.

      “Nah,” Jenks said, sounding smug. “Rachel’s witchcraft is whiter than her ass. She quit the I.S. and took Ivy with her. Ivy was their best. Denon, her boss, put a price on Rachel’s head for spite.”

      “You were an I.S. runner,” Nick said. “I get it. But how did you end up in the rat fights?”

      Still on edge, I looked to Ivy, who was industriously scrubbing the sink again, and she shrugged. So much for keeping rat boy in the dark. Shuffling back to the counter, I pulled out six pieces of bread. “Mr. Kalamack caught me in his office looking for evidence of him moving biodrugs,” I said. “He thought it would be more fun putting me in the rat fights than turning me in.”

      “Kalamack?” Nick asked, his large eyes going wider. “You’re talking about Trent Kalamack? The councilman? He runs biodrugs?” Nick’s robe had parted about his knees, and I wished he’d turn ju-u-u-ust a little more.

      Smug, I layered two slices of bologna each on three slices of bread. “Yup, but while I was trapped I found out Trent isn’t simply running biodrugs.” I hesitated dramatically. “He’s making them, too,” I finished.

      Ivy turned. Rag hanging forgotten in her slack grip, she stared at me from across the kitchen. I could hear kids playing tag next door, it was so quiet. Enjoying her reaction, I picked at the lettuce until I got to the green parts.

      Nick was ashen-faced. I didn’t blame him. Humans were terrified of genetic manipulation, for obvious reasons. And having Trent Kalamack dabbling in it was very worrisome. Especially when it wasn’t clear which side of the human/Inderlander fence he was on. “Not Mr. Kalamack,” the distraught man said. “I voted for him. Both times. Are you sure?”

      Ivy, too, looked worried. “He’s a bioengineer?”

      “Well, he funds them,” I said. And kills them, and leaves them to rot on his office floor. “He’s got a shipment going out on Southwest tonight. If we can intercept it and tie it to him, I can use it to pay off my contract. Jenks, you still have that page from his datebook?”

      The pixy nodded. “It’s hidden in my stump.”

      I opened my mouth to protest, then decided it wasn’t a bad spot. The sound of the knife was loud as I slathered mayonnaise on the bread and finished the sandwiches.

      Nick pulled his head up from his hands. His long face was drawn and he looked pale. “Genetic engineering? Trent Kalamack has a biolab? The councilman?”

      “You’re going to love this next part,” I said. “Francis is the one working the I.S. angle.”

      Jenks yelped, zipping up to the ceiling and down again. “Francis? You sure you weren’t knocked on the head, Rache?”

      “He works for Trent as sure as I just spent the last four days eating carrots. I saw him. You know those Brimstone takes Francis has been running? The promotion? СКАЧАТЬ