White Witch, Black Curse

The elevator doors opened, and Jenks whistled, long and slow. "Tink's contractual hell," he whispered, and I turned to see who Al was making bunny-eared kiss-kiss gestures to.

Unbelieving, I started shaking my head. "Trent. This isn't what it looks like."

The young man had pressed himself to the back of the elevator, his terror showing for an instant before he pulled himself together and decided that if he was going to die, he might as well do it looking good.

"This just keeps getting better and better," Jenks said, and I pushed the call button again.

"We'll take the next one," I said, smiling.

"Plenty of room!" the demon exclaimed, and my heels clattered on the steel frame of the door when Al shoved me. Trent fended me off, pressing into a corner as Pierce and Al followed me in. Jenks rose up high to sit on the top of the controls, his feet tapping the screen that showed what floor we were on.

"I do not believe this," Trent said, his unbreakable composure shattered. "Rachel, you are unbelievable!"

"Believe it, you little cookie maker," Jenks chimed out, and then to Pierce, "Hit the ‘close' button, will you, Pierce? We don't have all day."

Pierce didn't have a clue, and Jenks flew down and hit the button feet first. The doors slid shut, and we started to drop. "Holy shit!" Pierce exclaimed, pressing into the opposite corner and clutching the rail. "We're falling!"

I slid away from his suddenly green face, bumping Trent. The elevator wasn't that big, and everyone was giving Al lots of room as he hummed the theme song to…Dr. Zhivago?

"Summoning your demon at the top of Carew Tower?" Trent hissed in my ear.

Peeved, I shifted a little more to stand between him and Al. "I'm trying to make the world a little safer," I muttered, then beamed as Al looked at us, my smile fading the instant the demon looked away. "He's not abducting you, is he? Turning you into a toad?" My voice was getting louder. "I've got this under control!" I smacked the "lobby" button, praying we didn't stop anywhere between here and there. There was no way this elevator could go fast enough.

"You will be jailed for this," Trent was saying, still having kittens in the corner.

"Nonsense." Al polished his glasses with another bit of red cloth. "I'm here to party on this side of the lines, eat a little something, but mostly"—he looked at me and put his glasses back on—"I'm here to keep our itchy witch from killing herself with an ash-to-flesh spell."

Jenks's wings buzzed in the sudden silence, and I turned to Trent. The man was pale, and his hair was in disarray, but he was staring at Al and me. His eyes flicked to Pierce, white-faced in the corner, and he said, "You can bring the dead to life? That's black magic."

"Not at all," Al protested grandly. "Where do you think our itchy witch found this tricky little runt of a bastard?" He gave Pierce a shove, and the witch gagged. "He's a ghost." The demon sniffed. "Can't you smell the little worms on him?"

My head thumped into the wall. This was so not going well.

"You're a ghost?" Trent said, and Pierce shakily extended his hand from his corner.

"Gordian Pierce. Coven of moral and ethical standards. You are, sir?"

"You're what?" I exclaimed, my face warming.

Al started laughing, and Jenks dropped down to my shoulder.

Jenks tickled my ear, almost getting smacked. "Rache!" he hissed. "Isn't that the coven that got you shunned?" I nodded, and he added, "Maybe he can get your shunning rescinded."

I thought about that. Having been buried in blasphemed ground and dealing with demons didn't stand well in his favor, but he had worked for the coven of moral and ethical standards. They were kind of like the I.S. Once a member, always a member. You couldn't retire. But you could die.

Trent shook his hand, looking positively stunned. "Ah, I'm Trent Kalamack. CEO of—"

Pierce jerked his hand from Trent and pushed himself straight. "Kalamack Industries," he said, expression twisted as he wiped his hand on his pants. "I knew your father."

"I do not freaking believe this," I said, shifting to stand where I could see both of them.

Al beamed. "Amazing who you can meet in an elevator," he said, and Trent eyed me.

"You have a charm to bring the dead to life. And it's white," the elf stated.

I took a breath to answer, and Al interrupted smoothly. "And it's for sale, at apprentice rates. No guarantees. I have two right here," he said, patting his coat pocket. "It's temporary. The curse to give them a lasting body is a far sight trickier. Someone has to die, you see. I'd imagine that would make them black, but you don't seem to worry about killing people for your own ends, do you, Trenton Aloysius Kalamack?" he said with a simper. "Funny how you call my witch black, when you kill for profit, and she kills…" He hesitated in mock thought. "Why, she hasn't killed anyone who didn't ask her to! Imagine that."

Color spotted Trent's cheeks. "I don't kill for profit."

From the corner, Pierce muttered, "You kill for progress, if you're anything like your father."