(#17)
Format: Hardcover, 464 pages
Release Date: June 13, 2023
Publisher: Ace
Source: Publisher
Genre: Urban Fantasy
Rachel Morgan will learn that the price of loyalty is blood in the next Hollows novel from #1 New York Times bestselling author Kim Harrison.
Rachel
Morgan, witch-born demon, suspected that protecting the paranormal
citizens of Cincinnati as the demon subrosa would be trouble. But it’s
rapidly becoming way more trouble than even she could have imagined.
While
Rachel and her friends may have vanquished the trickster demon Hodin,
his mysterious associate known only as “The Mage” is eager to finish
what Hodin started, beginning with taking down Rachel’s power structure
piece by piece.
With her world falling apart, Rachel desperately
needs help. But with all of her supporters under attack, her only hope
is to make a deal with the unlikeliest of allies. . . .
Kim Harrison's Demons of Good and Evil is the 17th installment in the authors Hollows series. As a warning, there may be minor spoilers ahead since a lot of characters that show up in this book, have show up on and off throughout the series. Rachel
Morgan is a witch-born demon who has recently defeated the demon Hodin, and turn another nemesis into a mouse. She, along with her crew which includes David Hue (Alpha Werewolf), Ivy Tamwood (Vampire) and Pike (Vampire), with help from Trent Kalamack (Elf) are the power core behind keeping Cincinnati's human population safe from things that go bump in the night.
But it’s
rapidly becoming way more trouble than even she could have imagined. With a little help from her mentor, Gally (Demon), who was damaged by the Baku along with Bis (Gargoyle), agreed that they would try to help Rachael learn to line jump so that she can escape from where ever she may be, including Alcatraz. If someone grabs her summoning name and sends her away from Cincinnati, she should be able to escape to the Ever After. She has tried to keep both the vampires and the witches in line and that means trying to peacefully co-exist with Vivian Smith (Witch).
However, there's still a whole lot trouble on the horizon. Demons would love to revert to their old ways of tricking people like Vivian to serve them, and certain Elves still want to control the world while humans are just trying to survive. Then, as she is training with Bis and Gally, Walker Vincent and his fellow Male and Female Alphas directly challenge Rachel and David Hue and really up the ante on characters who are both powerful and hate Rachel. Walker is still angry that Nick stole the focus from him, and ended up in David. If they can get the focus, they can control Cincinnati and all the Were's.
Then a "mage" shows up and Rachel knows that her time as the power behind the paranormal community in Cincinnati might face it's first and most deadly challenge to date. The Mage, who if you pay attention, you will easily know who the person is, is eager to finish
what Hodin started, beginning with taking down Rachel’s power structure
piece by piece. First is David, then comes Trent who is busy trying to keep his business clean, then comes Rachel being sent to Alcatraz for using dark magic, and even more darker actions.
With her world falling apart, Rachel desperately
needs help. Thankfully for Rachel, she has some allies who are willing to stand with her or behind her and that comes from some surprising characters which I won't spoil. So, me finish my review by saying that you should read this story and expect the unexpected. But you should know enough about Rachel and her friends to know why the ending of this story is both shocking and heart breaking. Loyal fans of this series will immediately know who Rachel is talking about in the last line of this book. READ IT!!!
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CHAPTER
1
Eden Park's overlook was one of my earliest
childhood memories, not in its sun-drenched glory of a summer afternoon
filled with dogs and kids cutting loose, but in the dark as it was now,
the rumble of Cincinnati's lives muted under the moon's haze, the lights
from the distant buildings an inviting glow. Far below and behind me,
the Ohio River glinted as if a living thing, a welcome separation
between the city and the more . . . unique citizens in the Hollows.
Fixed between and overlooking both, Eden Park felt like the middle,
which was where I had always been, surrounded by all, never quite fully
belonging to either.
My dad had come up here when his choices
lay heavy on him, invariably when my mother was at her distracted worst.
I'd long been convinced that he had known who and what I was, and
lately . . . the thought had occurred that perhaps he had brought me
here to sit beside a ley line much as the woodsman had taken his
children to the forest, not to leave them to starve, but to find someone
who might be able to raise them to their full potential, because to
stay ignorant of what I was might be more dangerous still.
Which
might sound vain or presumptuous if I wasn't now sitting on that same
park bench, staring at a ley line, a demon beside me instead of the man
who had raised me as his own.
"My synapses are singed," I complained, and Al's expression became rife with annoyance.
"If you get caught in a circle by some wannabe magic user and can't
jump out, it will be more than your head hurting," the demon said,
hitting his affected, proper-British accent hard. "You're making us look
bad. You are a demon. You should have at least one ley line memorized
with which to jump to. That you have to stand within a line and
translocate to get to the ever-after is embarrassing."
True, I
was a demon, and as Al was fond of pointing out, it wasn't hard to make
me vulnerable if you knew how. Just my luck that there was an entire
university major devoted to it. "Yeah?" I said sourly. "Singeing my
synapses to char isn't going to help."
Al's wide shoulders
shifted in an unheard sigh. It was an unseasonably warm October night,
and he had forgone his usual crushed green velvet frock coat for a
lightweight and decidedly Victorian-feel vest. His high-top hat was gone
as well, and the lace. But a new, silver-tipped walking cane rested
against his knee-possibly holding a spell or two-and a pair of
blue-tinted glasses he didn't need hung low on his nose. Seeing him eye
my jeans and boots over them, I wondered if he felt he'd fallen to a new
low despite his still-overdone appearance.
His mood, too, was
off, being an uncomfortable mix of forced cheerfulness and dejection. I
was fairly sure it wasn't my lack of progress. Honestly, the reason the
demons had created gargoyles was that they couldn't master transposing,
or jumping, the ley lines on their own. Gargoyles could "hear" the lines
as easily as reading a book and, once bonded to a demon, could show
them how to shift their aura to join with the ley line and pop out
wherever they wanted, either here in reality or in the ever-after. But
until I managed it, the only way I could get to the ever-after was by
standing in a line and translocating myself there.
"The ley line
is right there," Al grumped, looking at it on the other side of the
small footbridge. "You can see it. You can hear it. Adjust your aura to
match it-"
"And become a part of it, shifting my body to nothing
but energy within its flow. Yeah, that's not the part I'm having
trouble with," I smart-mouthed, and he mockingly gestured for me to get
on with it. Losing myself in a ley line wasn't anything new, but trying
to jump into it from halfway across a park was. I'd tried three times
tonight already, failing miserably.
Frustrated, I sent my
attention to Bis. The adolescent, cat-size gargoyle had perched himself
in a nearby tree, on standby to snag me out of the line if I should
somehow manage the jump and get myself stuck. Al's far older and larger
gargoyle, Treble, had settled herself on a nearby streetlight as a
secondary spotter. The craggy, hut-size beast appeared too large to be
supported by the thin pole, but gargoyles, for all their stony looks,
were relatively light.
Bis had bonded to me over a year ago,
which basically meant he could teach me how to shift my aura to match
any ley line on the planet. After a hundred years or so of
gargoyle-aided practice, I'd be able to not only jump into a ley line
from anywhere but jump out again at any location I wanted by using three
or more ley lines to triangulate.
Unfortunately Bis and I had
lost our instinctive connection when his soul had been stuck in a
bottle. The first hints of our mental linkage were beginning to show,
but until he could pass through my protection circle with impunity, the
best I could do was learn the lines by rote. Trial and error. Which hurt
and singed my synapses when I got it wrong.
Being fifty-plus
years old, Bis was able to be on his own, and like most adolescents, he
liked to sleep all day. His skin was dark and pebbly, though he could
change its color at will to become almost invisible. All he had on
against the night's damp was a red scarf, and he really didn't need
that, either.
At Bis's encouraging nod, I resettled myself on
the bench. Relaxing, I let my focus go slack as if I was using my second
sight to see the ley line hovering like a red ribbon at chest height
halfway across the park. But I wasn't. After an hour of this, I was
tired and faking it. I was never going to translocate myself into that
ley line, so I simply gazed at the moon peeking past the heavy clouds.
Between the ley lines and me were the two recirculating ponds and
accompanying footbridge where I had spent my internship at the I.S.
chasing out bridge trolls. The line itself ran over a small plot of
concrete and a public Wiccan hearth, and beyond that was a wide space of
open grass leading to Cincinnati.
The crescent moon did little
to light the cloudy night. It would be a few days shy of full for
Halloween, but that was more than a week away. I could hardly wait, and
I'd already bought a basket of cherry tomatoes to give out to the kids
along with their Snickers and Pixy Stix. The holiday spanned the entire
week, culminating in a final, dusk-to-dawn candy hunt. Humans shut down
before midnight, right when the party really started. It was for the
best, really. They weren't made for the night.
The soft sound of
approaching dress shoes drew my attention to the man walking his dog.
"Go-o-ood evening," Al drawled, his threat obvious, and the man
quickened his pace. "Focus," he growled at me, and I quit trying to coax
the black Lab closer.
Bis dropped with a soft hush of sliding
leather wings, pinpointing the back of the bench with an unerring
accuracy despite the dark. "You're really close, Rachel," he encouraged,
the white tufts of fur on his otherwise leathery-black ears standing
out as he shifted them to listen to the people gathering in the field.
"But you're too far into the, ah, lighter spectrum." Red eyes pinched,
he looked up at Treble. "What's the right name for that sound?"
Treble's gnarled feet tightened on the light pole until the metal
groaned. "It's not an auditory vibration. It's a visual one," she said,
her deep voice rumbling like falling rocks and her lionlike tail
switching. "And there isn't a name for it, which is why this study is
useless until your aura again syncs with Rachel's. Gally . . ."
"Enough," Al muttered darkly, and I winced. I had a growing feeling that
we weren't out here for me but for Al. I hadn't seen him jump the lines
since he burned his synapses while trapping Hodin. Practicing along
with me might be the only way for his pride to take it. "Your opinion on
what is possible is not why you were asked to join us, Treble."
"Gally, if you would let me-" the old gargoyle said, her voice a pleading rasp.
"No." Al turned, one thick hand on the back of the bench as he glared
up at her. "Take a break. Both of you. Go catch bats and do whatever you
do when you aren't bothering us."
"Stupid hoary fart." With a
downward thrust of her leathery wings, Treble launched herself into the
air. The streetlight cracked and went out, and I flinched until I was
sure nothing was coming down. When I next looked, she was high in the
air, her huge, angled wings looking demonic against the city-lit clouds.
Shoulders shifting, Al put his elbows on his knees, his chin dropping into a cupped hand.
Bis sidestepped along the top of the bench to me, his craggy talons
spaced so as not to leave a scratch. "Call me if you need me," he said,
and I touched the foot he set on my shoulder.
I smiled, but
inside, I was unsure. Our once indelible mental link was all but
destroyed from Bis's prolonged connection to the baku. He would likely
hear my mental call if he was listening, but if he was busy or asleep?
It was chancy at best, and I was to blame.
"Rachel, you are
alive," Bis said as he saw my heartache, and Al straightened, his own
sour musings seeming to hesitate. "I'd make that same choice again. We
will figure this out."
And then Bis was gone, his small shape
vanishing over the yellow leaves still clinging to the trees.
Embarrassed, I slumped on the bench, arms over my chest.
"I'd make that same choice again, too," Al said, a gleam in his goat-slitted, red eyes.
"Al."
"No," he said, a hand raising to stop my words. Behind us, a couple
hurriedly coaxed their dog into their car and drove off amid a tense
conversation. They hadn't been here for more than five minutes, and I
wondered if we were being recognized.
"I'll get better at this,"
I said, instead of what I really wanted. Talk to me. Are you afraid
your skills won't return? "I just need practice." Reaching a thought
out, I tapped into the ley line, my jaw clenching at the mild
discomfort. I'd been pushing too hard, and now I was singed.
"Practice, yes," he said, his thoughts clearly somewhere else as he fingered his cane.
The small group at the center of the grassy field was growing, and I
frowned as an argument began to take shape, two sides clearly forming.
Weres? I wondered, not sure how far I could push Al to get him to open
up. If Treble was over four thousand years old, Al was far older. He'd
lived countless lives: that of a wanderer, warlord, slave, magician,
clever trickster, vengeful punisher, outcast, teacher. I wasn't sure
what he was now. Perhaps Al wasn't, either. Maybe that was the problem.
"The baku damage Bis suffered will mend," I said hesitantly. "Will you?"
Al stiffened. "Not your concern."
"Al." I shifted to face him square on. Two more cars had gone, leaving
the park to us and the growing knot of people in the field. "I think it
is. Why shouldn't I worry about you?" I don't have anything else to do.
Other than keep the vampires in line, the witches off my case, and the
demons from reverting to their old ways of dominating everything they
coveted, which was a lot. The elves still wanted to take over the world
despite being on the endangered species list, and the humans simply
wanted to survive after the Turn had reduced their numbers to a thin
fraction. Plague by way of tomato. Even forty years later, they grieved.
For the moment, everyone was behaving-hence me having the time for some
practice. But Halloween was next week and the moon was waxing. . . .
Al's eye twitched as he scanned the milling, increasingly noisy mob at
the center of the field. "I have been singed deeper than this before."
"When?" I countered, and his attention went to his hands, clasped and at rest.
"Not your concern," he said again.
"How long until you can tap a ley line?" I insisted.
"Not. Your. Concern," he practically growled.
"I think it is. If you aren't up to . . ." My voice trailed off as his
eyes narrowed on me. I closed my mouth, turning to sit shoulder to
shoulder instead of aggressively staring him down.
But the guilt
remained, guilt that he had paid for my risky chance. He had protected
me and suffered for it, burned his synapses as I captured his brother
first in a ley line, then a mental construct that Hodin could never
break even if magic should fail again. The smut we thought would protect
Al hadn't been enough. He could still do earth magic, but demons were
all about flash and bang-and though incredibly strong, earth magic
wasn't it.
"It was my choice," Al said, softening as he
recognized my mood. "And my task," he added. "I had much to atone for
concerning Hodin. And you, perhaps."
My throat was tight, and I
nodded, my attention flicking to the field when someone howled. It was a
Were pack, and they were going to fur by the look of it. Weres could
shift any day of the year, but they generally didn't do it in a city
park two weeks from a full moon.
"Perhaps it is better this
way," Al said lightly, but I could tell he was worried. "I'm not tempted
to do anything demonic. Try to match your aura to my line again," he
added, chin lifting. "I'm not helpless, but you are. You should be able
to jump somewhere in case someone circles you."
"Sure," I said, voice a whisper.
