Ever After (Rachel Morgan)

or bandaged.
    The news crews had a spasm of delight as I let the car door shut and paced across the road to the gate they were clustered behind. Jenks hung back as the still photographers snapped their pictures and big guys with video cameras on their shoulders shoved for the best angle. They were all shouting for my attention. Jenks took refuge on my shoulder, and Ray hid her face, scared. My protective nature rose up from a tiny seed of maternal instinct I didn’t even know I had, and I shushed her, rocking as I stood in the road, three feet back from the gate.
    “You,” I said to a woman in a white dress suit, her short hair hardly moving in the stiff wind. “Didn’t I knock you down once outside of the mall?”
    The woman grinned as her peers chuckled at her expense. “That was me, Ms. Morgan. Trent Kalamack was seen being transported to the hospital by helicopter, and unless I’m mistaken, that is his daughter. Something happened to the ley lines this afternoon, and the I.S. is on-site. Can you comment?”
    From my shoulder, Jenks sighed. “You sure you want to do this?”
    No, I didn’t want to do this, but I wanted them following me home even less. “Trent Kalamack escorted one of his employees to the hospital after an accident that occurred while riding this morning,” I said, smug when the woman shifted her gaze to her truth amulet ring, a nice steady green. They weren’t legal in this situation, but hard to prove. “Mr. Kalamack didn’t sustain any injuries, and I’m waiting for news just as you are.”
    “But the I.S.—” the woman blurted as a follow-up, and the rising questions subsided. “Were the ley lines damaged in the accident?”
    “No,” I said shortly. “I felt the lines sour well after the incident. The I.S. is here because the wounds his employee sustained are similar to those a demon might inflict.” The noise rose, and I put up a hand, guessing their next question and wanting to answer it my way instead of needing to work around that truth amulet. “As you can tell, the sun is up, so logic says the I.S. is taking the opportunity to be nosy while Trent is away.”
    They liked that, scribbling on tablets or talking into their recorders.
    “Ms. Morgan!” a man from the back shouted, his hand raised. “As Cincinnati’s only day-walking demon, have you been questioned in the incident?”
    “Told you this was a bad idea . . .” Jenks muttered, and I forced my smile to widen. A sneeze shook me, and Ray patted my shoulder.
    “I wasn’t an eyewitness to the incident,” I said truthfully, “but I did blow up a couple of trees so the medical copter could land.” I looked at the I.S. vehicles dramatically. “I’m sure they will blame me for something,” I added, getting the expected laughs. This wasn’t so bad. Making deals with demons had given me practice.
    “Do you have an explanation as to what happened to the ley line?” a man in a sports coat asked, holding his mic out over the gate.
    “No. I’m on my way home to talk to Al, actually, and find out if the demons know what happened,” I said, then sneezed again. They were coming faster, and nervously I patted Ray on her back as she said “bless you” in a garbled baby talk. “So if there are no more questions?” I said into the suddenly awkward silence.
    I took a step backward, and like lions on prey, they pounced. “Is that Ray? Can we have a picture? Are you taking her home? Where is Lucy? What has the I.S. learned so far?”
    Jenks was laughing, and I reluctantly turned back around. I scanned the yammering reporters, finding one I recognized. “Mark,” I said, and they all shut up. “You know I can’t divulge what the I.S. finds, and besides, I’ve only seen the search warrant.”
    “Why are you taking Ray? Can we have a picture? Was Ms. Dulciate injured in the accident as well?”
    I had three to choose from, and I took a step back. “Ms. Dulciate is currently occupied with Lucy. You can understand taking care of two little girls, twins, almost, is enough to drive anyone to distraction. I need to go. It’s nap time.”
    “Ms. Morgan. A photo, please. Ms. Morgan!”
    Ray was clutching my neck, scared. They’d already snapped pictures of Ray, so that boat had sailed, spent a week at the island, and returned to port for more tourists, but I didn’t want Ray’s fear to be what they walked away from here with. “A picture?” I taunted, and they clamored for one. “Maybe if you would all