Page 48 of Demon's Bluff
“Oh, good. Kalamack made it,” Al said sarcastically, his gaze on the ley line as Trent stepped out as if from nothing. His pace sure, the elf started our way, his slim outline marred by a full-length coat and scarf. The ley line was a wavering force behind him, and little rills of its energy spilled into me, making me jittery. I could do the charm anywhere, but having the line close was convenient.
Bis dropped to Trent’s shoulder, and my adrenaline spiked. Everyone I loved was here.
“This is as far as Jenks and I go,” Ivy said, and I pulled to a halt at the foot of the bridge.
“Okay.” Loss spilled through me, and I hadn’t even left yet. Al had already scoped out where I’d do the spell. The bridge supports rested on two squares of concrete. They were generally above water, and it was unlikely that anyone would be there at any given time. I could do the spell there and arrive in the past with no one the wiser.
Ivy’s dark gaze flicked under the bridge. “We can see you from here, and it’s only going to take a few seconds, right?”
“In theory.” Though for me, it would be hours, best case. Worst case…I didn’t want to think about the worst case. But for them? Yes. A moment.
I gave her another hug, ignoring Jenks’s dramatic yelp as she gave me an unusually tight squeeze and then let go, head bowed. I felt as if I was leaving Cincinnati forever, and the odd thing was I’d never be leaving the city at all.
“Be right back, Jenks,” I said, and he gave me a casual salute, most of him lost behind Ivy’s collar.
My hand trailed from Ivy’s shoulder as I turned away. The scent of unhappy vampire clung to me as I went to join Al at the top of the bridge. Head down, I hiked my shoulder bag higher. Inside it was just over a hundred bucks, all of it dated at least five years ago, my empty splat gun sincethe charms wouldn’t make the trip, a wad of expired, paper-wrapped syringes to make more splat balls with, my new translocation stone on a length of black gold, an old phone of mine that didn’t work anymore now but might in the past, its charger, and the spell book with the know-how to do the curse in case I lost my connection to the demon collective by going into the past and I had to twist the return curse from scratch. All my clothes were outdated and worn, but they were from five years ago and would last the trip.
“The far side of the bridge will put you closer to the ley line,” Al said, and I nodded, my attention fixed on Trent as he closed the gap between us. Bis had left him to sit on Ivy’s other shoulder, wings drooping. “Oh, for little green apples,” the demon added when Trent took my hands and pulled me close. “Rachel, I will wait for you under the bridge.”
“Thanks, Al,” I said, and he brushed past us impatiently.
“Bis says that the park is empty but for one man in a taxi at the entrance having a smoke,” Trent said. “I’ll feel better once you get under the bridge and no one can see you.”
“I’m not the one wanted for dealing in illicit genetic drugs,” I said, trying to be funny, but my throat was tight and my gut hurt. “What do you think?” I added cheerfully, spreading my arms and doing a quick spin to show off my bejeweled jeans and matching jacket. “Retro.”
Trent smiled and drew me back to him. “I always liked you in rhinestones.”
“Yeah, but they don’t belong on jeans,” I said, my expression blanking as his smile vanished. His pearl ring was black, and a feeling of foreboding took me.
“Rachel,” he started, and I shook my head.
“I have to do this.” I pushed into motion, and he followed.
“Yes, but I don’t know you five years ago,” he cajoled.
“Hence the reason for going back that far,” I said, head down as my worn boots found the dirt path to the bridge footings. “I’m a peon in the I.S., so if I run into anyone, nothing changes.” I’d be a ghost. I couldn’t contact anyone. Not Trent, not Ivy, not Jenks. No one at the I.S. or FIB. Ithad been a long time since I’d been on my own like this. Fortunately all the magic skills I’d gained between joining the I.S. and now would stick with me. At least that’s what Al had promised.
Arms out for balance, I skidded down to the water, the worn path made by ducks and those wanting to feed them, but my steps faltered when Trent pulled me to a halt at the water’s edge. Al made a muffled groan from under the bridge, frustrated.
“There has to be another way,” Trent cajoled. “Maybe we can find a descendant of Atlantis and teach him or her how to make a mirror.”
“Trent…” I took a slow breath. “This is it,” I said, looking across the pond to where Ivy and Jenks waited. “I will be back in like five seconds.”
His grip reluctantly fell away. There wasn’t enough room for him under the bridge unless he wanted to stand in the calf-deep, duck-poop-green water.
“If you aren’t, I’m coming after you,” Trent said, and I leaned in, eyes closing as I gave him one last hug.
“Nothing will go wrong,” I whispered, the scent of snickerdoodles and wine filling me. But I honestly couldn’t say that for sure.
I gave him a kiss, long and lingering. Emotion tingled down to my toes, carried by my love and maybe a little ley line energy. “I have to do this,” I said as I broke from him, my arms around his body holding him close. “I love you, but I need to fix what I did to Brad.”
He exhaled, breath shaking. “I love you, too. Desperately,” he said as he brought our clasped hands up between us. “I like who I am when I’m with you. Selfishly, please come back.”
“Yes,” Al interrupted with a caustic harrumph, “we all like who Trenton Aloysius has become. Let’s get on with it before the moon crests and you are fighting nature itself.”
My pulse quickened. It wasn’t what Icould dothat would keep Newt from knocking me over the head and making me her familiar. It was what I knew. Resolute, I pulled my shoulder bag closer and picked my way to Al. I’d been down here lots of times to chase away the bridge trolls when I had worked for the I.S., not that I had ever had the heart to actually kick themout, but the area appeared empty. Either Sharps was gone or lurking in the deeper, warmer water.
“Circle,” Al said tightly, the demon probably uncomfortable with his head brushing the underside of the bridge, but as I set my bag down to stick my finger, a bubbling froth rose up from the chattering water.