Every Which Way But Dead by Kim Harrison Page A

thought, wondering what she saw in Keasley that I didn’t. In the corner came a high-pitched argument between Jenks and his eldest daughter. The young pixy was wringing the hem of her pale green dress, her tiny feet showing as she pleaded with him.
    â€œNow wait a moment,” Keasley said, curling the top of his paper bag down. “I can take care of myself. I don’t need anyone ‘easing my hurts.’ ”
    Ceri smiled. My slippers on her feet made a hush across the linoleum as she came to kneel before him. “Ceri,” I protested, right along with Keasley, but the young woman batted our hands away, the suddenly sharp look in her green eyes brooking no interference.
    â€œGet up,” Keasley said gruffly as he sat before her. “I know you were a demon’s familiar and this might be how he made you act, but—”
    â€œBe still, Keasley,” Ceri said, a faint glow of ever-after red blurring her pale hands. “I want to go with you, but only if you let me return your kindness.” She smiled up at him, her green eyes losing their focus. “It will give me a feeling of self-worth I truly need.”
    My breath caught as I felt her tap the ley line out back. “Keasley?” I said, my voice high.
    His brown eyes went wide and he froze where he sat as Ceri reached out and placed her hands upon the knees of his work-faded overalls. I watched his face go slack, the wrinkles sliding into themselves to make him look older. He took a deep breath, stiffening.
    Kneeling before him, Ceri shivered. Her hands dropped from him. “Ceri,” Keasley said, his raspy voice cracking. He touched his knees. “It’s gone,” he whispered, his tired eyes going watery. “Oh, dear child,” he said, standing to help her rise. “I haven’t been without pain for so long. Thank you.”
    Ceri smiled, tears leaking out as she nodded. “Neither have I. This helps.”
    I turned away, my throat tight. “I have some T-shirts you can wear until I take you shopping,” I said. “Just keep my slippers. They’ll get you across the street at least.”
    Keasley took her arm in one hand, his bag in the other. “I’ll take her shopping tomorrow,” he said as he headed for the hallway. “I haven’t felt good enough to go to the mall in three years. It will do me good to get out.” He turned to me, his old, wrinkled face transformed. “I’ll send the bill to you, though. I can tell everyone she is my sister’s niece. From Sweden.”
    I laughed, finding it was very close to a cry. This was working out better than I had hoped, and I couldn’t stop smiling.
    Jenks made a sharp noise, and his daughter slowly drooped to land upon the microwave. “All right, I’ll ask!” he shouted, and she rose three inches, her face hopeful and her hands clasped before her. “If it’s okay with your mother and it’s okay with Keasley, it’s okay with me,” Jenks said, his wings a dismal blue.
    Jih rose and fell in obvious nervousness as Jenks hovered before Keasley. “Um, do you have any plants at your house that Jih might tend?” he asked, looking terribly embarrassed. Brushing his blond hair from his eyes, he made a wry face. “She wants to go with Ceri, but I’m not letting her leave unless she can be productive.”
    My lips parted. I sent my eyes to Ceri, seeing by her held breath that she clearly wanted the company. “I’ve got a pot of basil,” Keasley said reluctantly. “If she wants to stay when the weather breaks, she can work the garden, such as it is.”
    Jih squealed, pixy dust falling from her in a gold shimmer that turned to white.
    â€œAsk your mother!” Jenks said, looking upset as the excited pixy girl zipped out. He landed on my shoulder, wings drooping. I thought I could smell autumn. Before I could ask Jenks, a shrill tide of pink and