The Hollows Series Books 1-4. Kim Harrison

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СКАЧАТЬ I turned, finding Ivy’s face curiously slack. Dread pulled my shoulders tight. I took a deep breath and dropped my eyes. “I want something I can use for an offensive,” I said in a small voice. With one hand cupping an elbow, I put a hand over my collarbone.

      “Whoa, Rache,” Jenks said, his wings clattering as he forced himself into my line of sight. His tiny features were pinched in worry, doing nothing for my sense of well-being. “That’s dipping kind of close to dark magic, isn’t it?”

      My heart was pounding, and I hadn’t even done anything yet. “Dipping? Hell, it is,” I said. I flicked a glance at Ivy. Her posture was carefully neutral. Nick, too, didn’t seem upset as he rose, coming close at the promise of coffee. Again, the thought of him practicing black magic raced through me. Humans could tap into ley lines, though wizards and sorceresses were thought of as little more than a joke in most Inderland circles.

      “The moon is waxing,” I said, “so that will be on my side, and I wouldn’t be making spells to hurt anyone in particular.…” My words trailed off. The silence was uncomfortable.

      Ivy’s relatively mild response was unnerving. “Are you sure, Rachel?” she asked, only the barest hint of warning in her voice.

      “I’ll be fine,” I said as I looked away from her. “I’m not doing this out of malice but to save my life. There’s a difference.” I hope. God save my soul if I’m wrong.

      Jenks’s wings blurred in fitful spurts as he landed on the ladle. “It doesn’t matter,” he said, clearly agitated. “They burned all the black spell books.”

      Nick pulled the coffee carafe out from under the stream of coffee and slipped a mug in its place. “The university library has some,” he said as the hot plate sizzled against what spilled in the bare second it took.

      We all turned to Nick, and he shrugged. “They keep them in the ancient book locker.”

      A wisp of fear tugged at me. I shouldn’t be doing this, I thought. “And you have a key, right?” I said sarcastically, taken aback when he nodded.

      Ivy exhaled in a puff of disbelief. “You have a key,” she scoffed. “You were a rat an hour ago, and you have a key to the university’s library.”

      He suddenly looked far more dangerous as he casually stood in my kitchen with Ivy’s black robe hanging loose on his tall, lean body. “I did my work-study there,” he said.

      “You went to the university?” I asked, pouring myself a cup after Nick.

      He took a sip of coffee, his eyes closed in what looked like bliss. “Full scholarship,” he said. “I majored in data acquisition, organization, and distribution.”

      “You’re a librarian,” I said in relief. That’s how he knew about the black spell books.

      “Used to be. I can get you in and out, no problem. The lady in charge of us work-study peons hid keys to locked rooms near the doors so we wouldn’t keep bothering her.” He took another sip, and his eyes glazed as the caffeine hit him.

      Only now did Ivy look worried, her brown eyes pinched. “Rachel, can I talk to you?”

      “No,” I said softly. I didn’t want to go into that hallway again. It was dark. I was on edge. That my heart was pounding because I was afraid of black magic and not her would mean nothing to her instincts. And going to the library with Nick was a hindsight less dangerous than making a black spell—for which she didn’t seem to have any care. “What do you want?”

      She eyed Nick, then me. “I was only going to suggest you take Nick up to the belfry. We’ve got some clothes up there that might fit him.”

      I pushed myself from the counter, my untasted coffee tight in my grip. Liar, I thought. “Give me a minute to get dressed, Nick, and I’ll take you up. You don’t mind wearing a minister’s hand-me-downs, do you?”

      Nick’s look of startlement eased into question. “No. That would be great.”

      “Fine,” I said, my head pounding. “After you’re dressed, you and I will go out to the library and you can show me all their black magic books.”

      I glanced at Ivy and Jenks as I walked out. Jenks was very pale, clearly not liking what I was doing. Ivy looked concerned, but what worried me most was Nick’s casual ease with everything Inderlander, and now black magic. He wasn’t a practitioner, was he?

       Twenty-Four

      I stood on the sidewalk waiting for Nick to get out of the cab, estimating what I had left in my wallet before putting it away. My last paycheck was dwindling. If I wasn’t careful, I’d have to send Ivy to the bank for me. I was burning it faster than usual, and I couldn’t understand why. All my expenses were less. Must be the cabs, I thought, vowing to use the bus more.

      Nick had found a pair of work-faded jeans up in the belfry. They were baggy on him, held up with one of my more conservative belts; our long-departed minister had been a large man. The gray sweatshirt with the University of Cincinnati’s logo was equally outsized, and the gardening boots had been hopelessly too big. But Nick had them on his feet, clomping about like a bad Frankenstein movie. Somehow, with his tall height and casual good looks, he made slovenly seem attractive. I always just looked like a slob.

      The sun wasn’t down yet, but the streetlights were on since it was cloudy. It had taken longer to get the minister’s small wardrobe into the wash than it had to get here. I held the collar of my winter coat closed against the chill air and scanned the headlight-illuminated street as Nick said a few last words to the cabbie. Nights could be chill in late spring, but I would have worn the long coat anyway to cover up the brown gingham dress I had on. It was supposed to go along with my old lady disguise. I had only worn it once before, to a mother-daughter banquet I was somehow roped into.

      Nick unfolded himself out of the cab. He slammed the door shut and smacked the top of the car. The driver gave him a casual hand toss and drove away. Cars flowed around us. The street was busy in the hours of twilight when both humanity and Inderlander were in force.

      “Hey,” Nick said, peering at me in the unsure light. “What happened to your freckles?”

      “Uh …” I stammered, fingering my pinky ring. “I don’t have any freckles.”

      Nick took a breath to say something, then hesitated. “Where’s Jenks?” he finally asked.

      Flustered, I pointed across the street to the library steps with my chin. “He went ahead to check things out.” I eyed the few people filing in and out of the library. Studying on a Friday night. Some people have an insatiable desire to ruin the curve for the rest of us. Nick took my elbow, and I tugged away from him. “I can walk across the street by myself, thank you.”

      “You look like an old lady,” he muttered. “Stop swinging your arms, and slow down.”

      I sighed, trying to move slowly as Nick crossed in the middle of the street. Horns blew, and Nick ignored them. We were in student territory. If we had crossed at the intersection, we would have attracted attention. Even so, I was tempted to give a few one-fingered waves, but decided it might blow the old lady image. Then again, maybe not.

      “Are СКАЧАТЬ