with sex, and you might never walk again, but right now it was a huge pain in the ass. The coming assault-and-battery charges were going to keep me on Kisten’s boat for the next three years.
Jenks landed on the man’s nose. “He’s not in a coma,” he said derisively. “But the headache he’s going to have when he wakes up is going to make him wish he were. If you’re lucky, he won’t remember why.” Jenks rose up, hands on his hips as he faced Trent. “You got a problem with your control, cookie man?”
“Apparently.” Looking unsure, Trent stood back up. “You okay?” he said, and I nodded, unwrapping my arms from around myself. “Where should we put them?”
Head tilted, Jenks looked up the stairwell. “Not here. The elevator is slow. Most people use the stairs.”
From the hall, a cheerful ding told me the elevator had finally arrived. “Then let’s put them in the elevator and stop it between floors,” I said.
Jenks darted out the crack in the door, immediately returning to gesture us out. I grabbed the woman under her arms and began dragging her. The man’s coffee had landed on her, and she was a mess. Trent hauled the man to the door and held it open with one foot while I pulled the woman into the empty hallway, her heels making twin tracks in the carpet.
“Move it!” Jenks exclaimed, punching the call button with his feet when the silver doors threatened to close. I lugged the woman inside and propped her against the wall. “Shoe,” Jenks pointed out, and I lurched out to get it, jerking back in as the doors shut.
“This isn’t how I envisioned this playing out,” Trent said as he propped the man up beside the woman against the wall of the lift and took their building IDs. Worried, he put the man’s badge on. He didn’t look too far away from Dan, but I was not going to pass for Wendy under even the lightest scrutiny.
Jenks snickered and foot-planted the third-floor button. “Welcome to my world.”
“Can we just get to the attic, please?” I said as I put on Wendy’s badge, then hit the button to stop the elevator between floors. An alarm began to sound, and Trent grimaced.
“Elerodic,” he muttered, his suddenly glowing hand turning a bright silver.
“No, wait!” Jenks shrilled, and I cowered when Trent’s energy hit the panel with a burst of sparks.
“Damn,” Trent whispered, shaking the sting from him as I rose from my crouch. “I tried to adjust it that time.”
“Will you knock it off!” the pixy shouted, but the alarm had stopped, and the elevator was unmoving. “Enough with the magic! Use your other skills! You got enough of them!”
“Sorry,” Trent said as he looked at his reddened hand, and I eased my grip on the ley line. Immediately the warm sensation in my middle vanished, and I gave Trent’s hand a squeeze.
“And don’t forget their phones,” Jenks muttered. “Sleeping Beauty there will call someone as soon as he wakes up. Taking it might give us five more minutes.”
Nodding, Trent began to search them in earnest, seeming incongruous as he crouched over them to flip jackets and explore pockets. Jenks frowned at him, then darted to me. “You okay?”
I touched my glyph through my shirt and shrugged. “Fine, but you’re right. The less magic we do until this curse wears off, the better.” I looked up. “Does that open?” I asked, pointing at the ceiling door, and Trent stood, handing me their phones to tuck away in my bag.
Eyes eager, Trent braced himself in the corner and cupped his hands. Jenks had already busted the lock, and at his nod, I stepped into Trent’s grip. “Watch your balance,” he said softly, voice strained, and with one hand on the wall, I palm-struck the roof panel. It snapped up with a pop, and I reached for it, struggling to keep it from banging open all the way.
Cool, dusty air spilled down and Jenks darted past me into the unheated elevator shaft. “Higher,” I whispered, hearing the muffled complaints from the nearby closed second-floor doors. Finally I was able to scramble up. Immediately I lay down and extended my hands to Trent. It would’ve been easier to ride the elevator up, but it would have stopped on the second floor, and then there would have been shouting, and screaming, and pixy dust. . . .
The cold made my grip slippery, and my gut tightened as Trent took my hands.