Jenks made a noise of frustration, and in a burst of dust that lit up the kitchen, he left. From the sanctuary came a brief uproar of pixy shouting, then nothing.
My blood pressure dropped, and Ivy opened her eyes as I looked at her. They were black with fear. "How long do you want me to wait before I have Keasley summon you back?"
I looked at the window, then the clock. "Right before sunrise." My head hurt, and I forced my jaw to unclench. This was going to be the most difficult thing I'd ever done. And I didn't even know if I could do it. I looked at the clock above the sink, and with a slow exhale of breath, I tapped the line out back.
I shuddered as it spilled into me with that new, raw coldness of jagged metal scraping back and forth along my nerves. The sensation seemed worse than before, the nauseating irregularity making me sick.
Jenks's wings hummed as he came back in, hovering beside Ivy with black sparkles drifting from him. My circle wasn't set yet, but he stayed with Ivy. I blinked and shuddered, waiting for my equilibrium to return. "Dizzy," I said, remembering the sensation. "But I'm okay." I can do this. How hard can it be? Tom can do it.
"It's your thin aura," the pixy said. "Rache. Please."
Jaw clenched and vertigo rising, I shook my head, becoming even dizzier. I made myself stand straighter, and when Ivy nodded at me, I awkwardly pulled the sock off my right foot and put my big toe on the smooth tang of the magnetic chalk.
Rhombus, I thought firmly. The trigger word would spell the circle in an eyeblink.
Pain sliced through me. I jerked my hand from the mirror, doubling over as the energy from the line roared in, unfiltered and without the cushion of my aura. "Oh God…," I moaned, then fell to the cold linoleum when a new wave hit me. It hurt. Holding the circle hurt, and hurt bad, the entire, dizzying, sharp pulses smacking into me with the force of a Mack truck. You could survive being hit by a Mack truck. In fact, I had. But not without the cushion of an air bag and an inertia charm. My aura had been that cushion. Now it was so thin as to be useless.
"Ivy!" Jenks was shouting as my cheek ground into the salt-gritty linoleum when another spasm hit me. "Do something! I can't get to her!"
I didn't let go of the line—I shoved it out of me. A silent wave of force exploded from my chi, and I gasped in relief as the pain vanished. The electricity went out, and an unexpected snap of power echoed through the church.
"Down!" Jenks shouted, and a sharp pop hurt my ears.
"Shit," Ivy hissed, and my cheek scraped the salty floor when I blearily looked up at her quick steps into the pantry behind me. My attention, though, never left the fridge. It was on fire, the ghastly gold-and-black glow of my magic lighting the powerless kitchen as the door swung open, hanging from one bolt. I broke our fridge!
"Jenks?" I whispered, remembering the force of the line I'd shoved out of me. I think I just blew every fuse in the church.
I heard the hum of pixy wings over me as Ivy put the magically induced fire out with the fire extinguisher. Behind me, I could hear the pixies, but I closed my eyes, content to lie on the floor in a fetal position as the lights flickered back on. The choking hiss of the extinguisher ceased, and all that was left was my ragged breathing. No one moved.
"Damn it, Ivy, do something," Jenks said, the draft from his wings hurting my skin. "Pick her up. I can't help her. I'm too damned small."
At the edge of my awareness, Ivy's boots ground the salt in agitation. "I can't," she whispered. "Look at me, Jenks. I can't touch her."
I took another breath, grateful the pain was gone. Sitting up, I wrapped my arms around my shins and dropped my head to my knees, shaking from the lingering memory of the pain and shock. Damn it, I broke our fridge.
No wonder Al had been so confident. He had said I was helpless, and he was right. And as I sat there, beaten, I felt the first tear of frustration trickle down my face. If I couldn't get Al to treat me with more respect, I would be alone. I couldn't have a deeper relationship with Marshal because I'd make him a target. Pierce wasn't even alive, and he was now going to live out eternity in the ever-after, plucked from my backyard. Eventually Al would turn to Ivy and Jenks. Unless I forced him to conform to common decency, everyone around me was living on a demon's whim.
I couldn't seem to catch a break.
Depressed, I sat on my kitchen floor and tried to keep from shaking. I needed someone to hold me, someone who would wrap me up in a blanket and take care of me while I figured it all out. And having no one, I held myself, holding my breath so another tear wouldn't leak out. I was hurt and in pain, both in my body and heart. I could cry if I wanted to, damn it.
"Ivy," Jenks said, panic in his small voice. "Pick her up. I'm too small. I can't help her. She needs to be touched or she's going to think she's alone."
I am alone.
