The Undead Pool. Kim Harrison

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СКАЧАТЬ up again. I’d broken their no-magic ward. I was going to get banned. The best I could hope for was to not take Trent with me.

      “Ah! Aha!” Limbcus said, his bulk quivering as he saw the cart as well. “Now we’ll see! Kevin!” he shouted. “Kalamack altered the lay of my ball! I want him scratched!”

      I cringed as Kevin, apparently, brought the electric cart to a halt, the youngish man blanching at the crater as he got out. Knowing what was going to happen, I waved at him. “It was me, actually. Sorry!”

      Kevin looked professional in his black slacks and matching polo top, a crackling radio on his hip and a worn cap on his head. “Is everyone okay?” he asked, his few wrinkles bunching up to make him look older.

      Trent nodded, and Limbcus pushed to the front. “She tampered with my game!” the red-faced, pear-shaped man shouted. “Magic during tournament play is grounds for disqualification. Kalamack is out! Scratch him. Right now.”

      Ever the gentleman, Trent cleared his throat. “I’m afraid this is my fault.”

      “Ah, no. Actually it isn’t,” I said. “He dropped his ball into our game and I deflected it.”

      “More like demolished it,” Jenks said, snickering, and I wished he’d shut up.

      “She admits it!” the heavyset man exclaimed, pointing again. “Scratch him!”

      Kevin met Trent’s eyes, and Trent shrugged. Clearly unhappy, the manager nervously pushed in between them. “Mr. Limbcus, is there any way you can see to overlook the lapse? Seeing as it was your ball that instigated the problem?”

      “At least let me replace your equipment,” Trent said.

      Limbcus’s eyes widened as he realized they’d sided against him. “I don’t give a rat’s ass about the ball! We’re under tournament rules, and your caddie used magic! Your entire team’s scores are suspect, and you should be expelled from the club entirely!”

      “Ms. Morgan isn’t my caddie,” Trent said coolly. “She’s my security.”

      “I’ll bet.” The man leered at me, and my chin lifted. It didn’t help that I didn’t look the part today, dressed in a pair of shorts, sneakers, and a fashion-deprived polo shirt in an effort to blend in. Oh, I was athletic enough, but when a man like that sees curves, he assumes there’s no brain or skills attached. But the way I saw it was the less you looked like security, the more likely you were to catch them off guard.

      The uncomfortable silence stretched. Mistaking it for agreement, the man shifted his bulk aggressively. “Golf is a gentleman’s game. Having women on the course is bad enough, but she doesn’t even know how to play!”

      My eyes narrowed. “Easy, Rache,” Jenks warned.

      “She’s a demon!” the man bellowed, and there were gasps from the surrounding men. “She’s been fixing the game. Can your ward handle demon magic? You don’t know!”

      “Mr. Limbcus,” the golf pro protested nervously.

      “Kalamack could be doing his elf magic and you’d never know about it either!”

      “Uh-oh . . .” Jenks rose up on a glittering column of blue-tinted black sparkles.

      Sneakers silent on the grass, I drifted closer. Trent had gone white—not in fear, but in anger. “You think he’s going to do something?” Jenks said, hovering at my ear.

      “Doubt it,” I said, but I felt a chill when Trent took his hat off. If he had been wearing his spelling cap under it, he had just removed temptation. His ironclad cool had been cracking a lot lately, and I didn’t like it.

      “His kind shouldn’t be allowed to play with decent folk,” the man said with a sneer.

      That did it. Trent might be downplaying his abilities in order to soothe interspecies relations, but I didn’t have to. It wasn’t my job to keep Trent out of the papers for assaulting idiots, but Quen would thank me.

      With a thought, I reached past the country club’s ward of no-magic and strengthened my hold on the ley line. Pissed, I yanked a huge wad of it to me, shattering the annoying ward yet again to make it shrivel up and fold into itself, broken for good this time. In the distance, that warning hoot started up, and Kevin paled, knowing I’d taken out their ward with the ease of a stallion breaking a string. Mr. Lime-Green Pants turned, his anger faltering as he saw me.

      “Ah, Rachel?”

      I pushed Trent’s hand off my arm. “His kind?” I said, hands on my hips as I came to a stop inches from the man’s bulging middle and looked up at him. “His kind is what kept your momma and daddy alive through the Turn!”

      Trent smelled like broken fern. “We’re fine,” he said. “Rachel, I’ve got this.”

      “We’re not fine!” I exclaimed, a sliver of satisfaction plinking through me when Limbcus backed up. “That ball would’ve put you in the hospital and he’s griping about me blowing it up?”

      “Rachel?”

      I leaned in until I could smell Limbcus’s toothpaste. “How about it, Limbcus? You want that I should call the FIB and file an attempted assault form? I have a license that tells me I can do magic any time I damn well please to protect the person I’m working for.” Ticked, I brandished the mass of rubber and burnt plastic under his nose. “I’d shove this ball somewhere nasty if I didn’t need it for evidence!”

      “Rachel!”

      I blinked, rocking back when I realized I’d shoved Limbcus all the way to Kevin’s cart. Jenks was hovering behind him, grinning, and that, more than the man’s terrified expression, cooled me off. I wasn’t doing myself any favors, and sniffing, I stalked to Trent’s bag, yanking it up and dropping the blown-out ball into a pocket so I could check it out for tampering later. “You need to read your history before someone makes you part of it,” I muttered, jumping when Trent’s hand landed lightly on my shoulder. Jenks was dusting an amused bright gold, and sullen, I hoisted Trent’s clubs onto my shoulder. It might have been a mistake to butt in, but it was harder to swallow the insults when they weren’t aimed at me.

      “Mr. Limbcus,” Trent was saying, his voice soothing, but I could hear a thread of satisfaction that had been missing before. “I’m sure we can come to some agreement. This is for charity, after all.”

      Mr. Limbcus still hadn’t moved. “If he’s not disqualified, I will withdraw from the event and take my entrance fee with me,” he said, his jowls quivering. “You may own Cincinnati, Kalamack, but you do not own this course, and I will see you expelled before this day is over!”

      Actually, his family had owned the property at one point, but I managed not to say it. Kevin stood beside the cart looking unsure, and Trent put his cap back on, taking the moment to think. “I will withdraw from the tournament immediately. Kevin, can we ride back with you?”

      Distressed, the manager shifted forward. “Of course, Mr. Kalamack.”

      “Figures,” the fat man huffed. “He knows he’ll lose without magic.”

      “My pledges will of course remain in force,” Trent said as he put СКАЧАТЬ