Ever After (Rachel Morgan)

Swell.
    “Ms. Morgan, I’m glad you stopped,” the man said as I came in and set Ray on the counter. Three walls were entirely glass, and it was like being in a fish tank. There was new activity among the press gathered, waiting for any tidbit the I.S. might let fall. Vultures, they were vultures. “We weren’t aware you were going to take Ray off the grounds.”
    “Why?” Jenks asked snidely, giving the three other guards fits as he flew behind the counter and inspected the views from the security cameras. “You think you can stop her?”
    “Well, actually . . .” the man hedged, and I took a pen away from Ray before she stuck it in her mouth and gave her from my purse a harmless charm that would straighten hair.
    “Look, you,” I said, a finger pointed, and I swear, Ray tried to mimic me, charm between her swollen gums like a teething ring. “Trent asked me to watch her, and I need to get home.”
    From behind the counter, a big fat guy in a uniform turned, his chair on casters. “Frank, she’s on the list. Quit razzing her.”
    My eyebrows rose, my good mood returning. I was on the list. How about that? And then I sneezed, feeling a faint itch of a ley line pull attached to it.
    “Bless you,” Jenks said, and I swear, Ray echoed him, way off on the actual word but spot on as far as rhythm. Her little-girl voice was sweet, and charmed, I tickled her under her chin to make her squirm.
    “Ma’am . . .” My smile vanished, and the man’s became nervous. “Uh, you’re on the list, but I need to see a photo ID and get a phone number we can reach you at, and we need to know where you’re going, and when you expect to be back.”
    Oh. That was all right then, and I swung my bag up beside Ray, pawing through it with one hand as the other hovered over Ray’s back in case she decided to move. The clatter drew Ray’s attention, and she watched with a serious expression, not reaching for anything as I sifted past the splat gun, lethal charm detector, two sets of cuffs, handful of zip strips, breath mints, phone, and whatnot for my wallet.
    “Thank you,” he said as he took it to run it through their machine. It apparently liked what it found since he gave it back. Behind him, the news crew was setting up tripods and long-range cameras.
    “I’m taking her to my church,” I said as wrote down my cell number and I shoved everything away, Jenks laughing at the expression on the other officers’ faces at the cuffs and charms. “I’ll have her there until Trent picks her up or we run out of diapers.”
    “Thank you,” the anxious guy said, and I swung my bag up onto my shoulder. Jenks hovered beside me, and together we looked at the newspeople, hanging around in the hopes of a scrap of anything. I slid Ray onto my hip, motions slow.
    “Think if I give them something they won’t follow me?” I muttered, and Jenks snorted.
    “Doubt it.”
    I doubted it too, but I headed for the door. If I kept my windows up, I could at least ignore them. Trent wouldn’t be pleased about any photos they took of Ray, but it couldn’t be helped.
    The sun and wind hit me anew as I went outside. Jenks was close, and my steps were fast as I headed for the car. Shouts and calls for my attention got loud as I opened the door. If you follow me home, I swear I’ll let the pixies play in your electronic equipment!
    “Ms. Morgan! Is it true that Mr. Kalamack has been flown to the hospital and is in intensive care! Ms. Morgan!”
    My back was to them, and Jenks, currently perched on the roof, winced. “It’s not going to look good if you don’t answer,” he said, his eyes going to Ray and back to me.
    “Ms. Morgan! Have you taken custody of his children because he’s unconscious? Where is Ms. Dulciate? Has she been injured as well?”
    I sighed, then shifted Ray higher. She wasn’t fussy, happily gumming the charm. It wouldn’t hurt to quash a few rumors before they got started.
    The security people on both sides of the road were standing at their big plate-glass windows, watching. I’d get no help from them, and although Trent probably wouldn’t thank me for putting Ray in front of the cameras, I’d found out the hard way if you didn’t give the press something to chew on, they invented things that sold more papers than the truth.
    “Ms. Morgan!” a woman shouted, and I turned, holding my hair to my head so the wind wouldn’t catch it. I must look a sight, but at least I wasn’t limping, beaten up,