White Witch, Black Curse

"It's a rope!" Jenks exclaimed, hovering over it, and I peeked inside the envelope to make sure there wasn't a note. "Trent sent you a rope? Is that a joke?" he said, looking so angry that his kids started to back off, whispering. "To hang yourself with, maybe? Or is it an elven version of getting a horse head in your bed? It's made out of horsehair."

I cautiously picked up the short length of rough rope, feeling the knotted bumps. "It's probably made from his familiar," I said, remembering Trent once telling me that his familiar was a horse. "Jenks," I said, heart beating fast. "I think it's a Pandora charm."

Immediately Jenks lost his anger. From behind us, I heard a rumble and chunk of an ice cube dropping onto the floor, and his kids swarmed it. Rex appeared at the doorway and hunched down, watching Jenks's kids push and shove to be the first five on the long cube of ice. Wings going in tandem, they shot across the floor, under the table, and around the island. Pixy squeals rose high, and they all flew off an instant before the cube hit the wall, out of control.

"He just gave it to you?" Jenks said as he landed beside me, kicking it. "Are you sure that's what it is?"

"I think so," I said, not sure what to make of it. "You undo the knots, and a memory returns." I picked it up, looking at the gray strand knotted with complex figures that reminded me of the sea. I'd be willing to bet Trent had made it himself. I could feel the rising tension of wild magic, making a quiver in me as it tickled my compromised aura. Or maybe elf magic always felt that way.

Jenks looked from the black-and-silver strand of knotted rope to me. "You gonna do it?"

I shrugged. "I don't know what memory it's for."

"Kisten's murder," he said confidently, but I shook my head.

"Maybe." I ran the string through my fingers, feeling the bumps like notes of music. "It might be something about my dad, or his dad, or the make-a-wish camp."

Carefully, I set it down. I didn't want to know what memory was there. Not yet. I'd had enough of memories. I wanted to live for a while without them, dealing with the present without the hurt of the past.

My phone rang from my bag, and I eyed Jenks when ZZ Top's "Sharp Dressed Man" jingled out. The pixy gave me an innocent stare, but when Rex perked up, sitting to stare at the corner of the room with a familiar intensity, my expression left me, and I drew back from answering my phone. "Pierce?" I whispered.

The air pressure shifted, and with a soft pop, a misty shape in the corner grew, solidified, and turned into Pierce. Rex stood with a little kitty trill, and I jumped to my feet, shocked. It had to be Pierce. Unless it was Al disguised as him.

"Pierce?" I asked again, and he turned to me, his eyes twinkling, and dressed to the nines in mid-nineteen-hundreds high fashion. He looked like himself. I mean, he didn't look like Tom, and I wondered what in hell was going on.

"Mistress witch," he said, darting across the kitchen to take my hands. "I can't stay," he said breathlessly, eyes glinting. "Al will be of a mind to track me down faster than a dog trees a coon on a moonlit night, but I had to visit you first. To explain."

"You took Tom's body," I said, pulling away. "Pierce, I'm glad to see you, but—"

He nodded, his hair sliding into his eyes until he tossed it back roguishly. "It's black magic, yes, and I'm not proud of it, but it wasn't me who killed the black witch. He killed himself."

"But you look—"

"Like myself, yes," he finished, drawing me into almost a dance, he was so happy. "That was part of the deal. Rachel…" His expression suddenly became concerned. "You've been burned," he said, every last other thought clearly out of his head. His hand went out, and I stopped it before it touched my face.

My pulse was hammering, and I was hot. "Kisten's pyre," I said, flustered.

Pierce gave me a firm look. "It is ended, then."

I nodded. "Please don't tell me you sold your soul for this…." I looked him up and down, and he dropped my hands and stepped back.

"That is a matter of some debate. You must be able to hold what you claim, and though I entered into an agreement, he can't hold me. None of them can hold me."

His smile was way too smug, and I felt a quiver in myself. "You escaped!"

"Once I had obtained a body and could commune with a line, it was only a matter of time. Nothing can hold me forever. Except perhaps you."

Beaming, he pulled me close, and knowing he was going to kiss me, I blurted, "Jenks is here."

Immediately his hands flashed from me. Blue eyes wide in charming shock, he dropped back a step. "Jenks!" he said, flushing. "My apologies."

I followed the sound of an angry humming to see Jenks hovering over the middle counter, staring at us with his hands on his hips and a grimace on his face. "Get out," he said flatly. "I just got her normal again. Get out before you turn her into a sniveling, twitterpated…twit!"

"Jenks!" I exclaimed, and Pierce put a calming hand on me.