Every Which Way But Dead by Kim Harrison Read Free Book Online

finding peace in the icon. “Thank you,” she whispered.
    Ivy frowned. “Touch my desk again, and I’ll snap every one of your fingers.”
    Ceri took the threat with a light understanding that surprised me. It was obvious she had dealt with vampires before. I wondered where—since vampires couldn’t manipulate ley lines and would therefore make lousy familiars.
    â€œHow about some tea?” I said, wanting something normal to do. Making tea wasn’t normal, but it was close. The pot was steaming, and as I rummaged in a cupboard for a mug good enough for a guest, Jenks snickered, swinging my earring like a tire swing. His kids were flitting into the kitchen in twos and threes—much to Ivy’s annoyance—pulled by the novelty of Ceri. They hovered over her, Jih taking the closest stance.
    Ivy stood defensively before her computer, and after a moment’s hesitation, Ceri sat in the chair farthest from her. She looked lost and alone as she fingered the crucifix about her neck. As I searched the pantry for a tea bag, I wondered how I was going to make this work. Ivy wasn’t going to like another roommate. And where would we put her?
    The accusing clatter of Ivy’s pens was loud as she rearranged her pencil cup. “Got one,” I said in relief as I finally found a tea bag. Jenks left me to bother Ivy, chased off my earring by the steam drifting up as I poured the boiling water into the mug.
    â€œHere, Ceri,” I said, waving the pixies away from her and setting it on the table. “Do you want anything with it?”
    She looked at the cup as if she’d never seen one before. Eyes widening, she shook her head. I hesitated, wondering what I had done wrong. She looked like she was ready to cry again. “Is it okay?” I asked, and she nodded, her thin hand shaking as she took the mug.
    Jenks and Ivy were staring at her. “You sure you don’t want sugar or anything?” I asked, but she shook her head. Narrow chin trembling, she brought the cup to her lips.
    Brow furrowed, I went to get the coffee grounds out of the fridge. Ivy rose to rinse the carafe. She leaned close to me, running the water to blur her words as she muttered, “What’s wrong with her? She’s crying over her tea.”
    I spun. “Ceri!” I exclaimed. “If you want some sugar, it’s okay!”
    She met my gaze, tears streaming down her pale face. “I haven’t had anything to eat for—a thousand years,” she choked out.
    I felt as if I had been punched in the gut. “Do you want some sugar?”
    Still crying, she shook her head.
    Ivy was waiting for me when I turned back around. “She can’t stay here, Rachel,” the vampire said, her brow tight.
    â€œShe’ll be fine,” I whispered, appalled that Ivy was ready to kick her out. “I’ll bring my old cot down from the belfry and set it up in the living room. I’ve got some old T-shirts she can wear until I take her shopping.”
    Jenks buzzed his wings for my attention. “Then what?” he said from the spigot.
    I gestured my frustration. “I don’t know. She’s much better already. She wasn’t talking half an hour ago. Look at her now.”
    We all turned, finding Ceri sobbing quietly and drinking her tea in small reverent sips as the pixy girls hovered over her. Three were plating her long, fair hair and another was singing to her.
    â€œOkay,” I said as we turned back. “Bad example.”
    Jenks shook his head. “Rache, I really feel bad for her, but Ivy’s right. She can’t stay here. She needs professional help.”
    â€œReally?” I said belligerently, feeling myself warm. “I haven’t heard of any group therapy sessions for retired demon familiars, have you?”
    â€œRachel…” Ivy said.
    A sudden shout from the pixy children brought Jenks up from the spigot. His eyes went