Ever After (Rachel Morgan)

chair. “He’s got the only baby left.”
    “I’ll get him,” I said as I stood up and tugged my shirt straight. “Get Quen and Trent out of here. Catch me when I jump.” If Trent wasn’t here, then he couldn’t try to kill Ku’Sox using me to do it.
    “No!” Quen said, arm up to fend Bis off, and then they were gone.
    I took a deep breath, glad Quen was safe. If Bis didn’t come back for Trent or me, then I’d die happy. Ray would not grow up without her father.
    “Give me that baby,” I said, shaking as I listed to one side, and Ku’Sox took his pinkie from the now quiet child, charmed to sleep with a curse.
    “One step closer, and I squeeze,” he said, smiling down at the sleeping infant.
    I froze as Trent stirred behind him. “You want me, not him.”
    Ku’Sox raised an eyebrow. “Offering to take his place? But I already have you. Come sunup, I will be pleading to the collective to spare your life. And they will give you to me because otherwise, I’ll kill them all and they know it.”
    “Not unless I kill you first.” Maybe Trent had the right idea after all.
    Bis popped into existence, right on top of Trent, and I jerked. “You will regret this, little rat!” Ku’Sox shouted, and I flung up a bubble around them as Bis popped Trent out. Ku’Sox’s magic winged into the nursery, quiet and empty. “Enough!” Ku’Sox shouted, throwing the baby from him as if the infant were trash.
    “No!” I shoved myself into motion, arms outstretched as the baby screamed in fear. I hit the floor front first, eyes closed from the impact and stretching forward. My hands were empty. An awful thump echoed through me, and I curled up in heartache. I had jumped too short. I had missed. Knowing what I’d find, I opened my eyes, tears blinding me as I gathered up the silent, limp baby and stood, my knees shaking in anger.
    “You will behave, Rachel, or you learn obedience from the back of my hand,” Ku’Sox seethed.
    The baby was dead, and I held him, rocking him and aching inside. “Now you’ve done it,” I said, voice low and threatening. Trent had been right. The baby had been dead the moment Nick had stolen him. “You will account for yourself,” I intoned, shaking as I felt a tweak on my thoughts.
    “Who will force me? You?” Ku’Sox snarled, his hand reaching for me hazed with power dripping to hiss on the floor.
    The lines echoed in my head as Bis landed on my shoulder, and I gasped when their jagged existence flooded my mind.
    “No!” Ku’Sox screamed, but it was too late, and I sobbed as the line took me, the harsh caw of the demon replaced with the howling discord of the broken lines. I deserved the ragged edges cutting at my soul. It was only because of the baby that I bubbled my thoughts against their burning haze as I wept.

Chapter Twenty-Eight
    R achel?
    I thought it odd that a kid who had skin as hard as stone had thoughts as soft as silk, and they slid into mine without resistance. Depressed, I gathered my awareness, not wanting Bis to know how broken I felt, listening to the line screaming around us with a curious detachment.
    Rachel, can you bubble this resonance for me? he said meekly, and I let him further into my mind, aching as the line seemed to burn and shift to a harsh orange-green glitter with sparkles. If we can set this song in the line we’re going to, then it won’t hurt so bad.
    Bis was in pain, and that galvanized me. Sealing my heartache behind a thick wall, I sent my thoughts deeper into the chaos of the ever-after, finding the resonance he colored for me and bubbling it.
    Shift us to this . . . Bis prompted, showing me a shimmery gray and green.
    Mentally rocking myself, I did. A ping of rightness went through me. It was as if a tiny wail softly subsided, finding peace in the storm streaming around me. Hesitating in my misery, I caught back a sob, remembering the baby in my arms. Bis?
    Bis’s emotion next to mine was clearer, and he sighed. Thank you, it will be easier to jump now. He hesitated, then added, Sorry about the headache.
    Headache? I questioned him, then suddenly found myself struggling for air. We’d been in the line too long, and I clawed for a way out. There was a pop and a push, and I stumbled, taking a huge gasp of air as I found myself in reality, the screaming of the line replaced by the crying of a handful of angry babies.
    Sure enough, my head was throbbing, and I looked down at the little boy in my arms, my hope crushed when