Part 3 (2/2)

”Rache!” Jenks shouted, his high voice coming clearly as he rounded the door ahead of Ivy. The pixy stopped short, hovering at head height, his wings flas.h.i.+ng red with anger as he saw Trent tugging his cuffs down. ”Holy c.r.a.p, Rache,” he exclaimed, coming in to buzz irritating circles around me. ”What did you get greenie weenie for this time? Bowling in black socks?”

Trent gave us a dry look, eyes going to Ivy when she halted in the doorway. Glenn was behind her, and the man had to push to get past her, anxious to be back in his office and head off the coming interspecies incident. His jaw was clenched, but what had he really expected? Trent and I didn't like each other and we argued. A lot.

Even as angry as I was, I watched the swift exchange between Ivy and Glenn, wondering if the tension in the room was solely because of me, or if there was an undercurrent of a secret not shared. Ivy's irritation could easily be a cloak to hide guilt, and Glenn was equally hard to read when he was in his hard-a.s.sed FIB detective mode.

I wouldn't hold out my hand for Jenks to land, so the pixy alighted on my shoulder instead, coating my sticky jacket in a fading glitter of dust. He was dressed for the chill spring weather, his wife, Matalina, finally having perfected pixy winter wear that gave him both freedom of movement and protection against the cold that might send him into hibernation and possible death. The tight black silk, red bandanna, and wooden-handled sword about his middle made the four-inch man look like a mix of theater and inner-city gang member.

In a smooth motion, Trent swooped forward to pick up the paper from under my chair. I stepped back out of his reach, my instinct to keep s.p.a.ce between us kicking in. Refolding the contract, he tucked it away in his jacket. ”Let my office know when you change your mind,” he said, then headed for the door, jerking to a stop when Ivy didn't get out of his way.

”Let us know when cherry lollypops come out your a.s.s,” Jenks said, and I leaned back against the tall file cabinet, arms crossed over my middle.

Glenn cleared his throat, and Ivy slowly moved out of Trent's way.

”Your team is as professional as always, Morgan,” Trent said lightly. Nodding at Glenn, he turned and walked out. A buzz of conversation rose behind him from the open offices.

I exhaled, shaking. ”I hate him,” I said, moving to my chair and plopping into it, making Jenks fly up. ”I really do.”

A glitter of silver sparkles. .h.i.t my hand an instant before Jenks did. ”Did he wave money at you again?” he asked, telling me he hadn't been eavesdropping. ”I told you I've got this, Rache. I don't even want you to pay me back.”

I winced. If only it were that simple.

Ivy turned from watching Trent make his way to the elevators. ”How much was it?” she asked, staying where she was so the acc.u.mulated emotion of the room wouldn't hit her as hard. Her eyes were dilated more than the electric lights warranted, but she looked okay, especially if I'd interrupted her plans this weekend and she was hungry. Glenn, I noticed, wasn't fazed at all by her state, almost nonchalant as he moved behind his desk. Yeah, they had definitely been spending time together. His cologne smelled kind of citrusy, too.

”He tried to buy her,” Glenn said for me. ”In exchange for getting the coven of moral and ethical standards off her back.”

”How did he know it was the coven?” Ivy wanted to know, and I stared at Glenn.

”How do you know what Trent wanted?” I asked him, my foot twitching.

Smiling grimly, Glenn punched a b.u.t.ton on his phone and a light went out. ”How else would I win the office pool?” he said, leaning back in his chair. ”Rachel, you are in deep doo-doo.”

”Yeah, tell me about it.”

”Doo-doo? Call it what it is,” Jenks smart-mouthed. ”She's so far up s.h.i.+t creek, she could float down with the rest of the t.u.r.ds.” I sighed my agreement as he settled himself on the warmth of my hand. ”What does the coven want?” he asked. ”They already shunned you.”

”Someone-Trent probably-told them what I was,” I said softly, depressed. Glenn already knew. He'd been there the day I'd figured it out. ”They want to put me in a cage and dissect me.”

Ivy stiffened, and Jenks's tiny features bunched up. ”You're a witch,” he said vehemently, and I felt a sense of peace at his loyalty.

”Thanks, Jenks,” I said, though I didn't know if I believed it anymore. ”Trent fed them some line about how his father made me so he can control me. Destroy me, even. They'll let me roam free and in the wild if he takes legal responsibility for me.”

”That's a lie,” Ivy said from the doorway. ”He can't control you. And he didn't make you. His father simply found a way to keep you alive.”

I lifted a shoulder and let it fall. ”Looks to me like he's doing a d.a.m.n fine job of controlling me right now.” Stupid-a.s.s businessman. I still didn't believe him. No one else knew what I was capable of except my friends-and Newt, on a good day. Sighing, I thought back to who'd been there the evening Trent told Minias what I was: Marshal, Ceri, and Keasley-but they wouldn't say anything; neither would Quen, but if Quen knew, then so did Jonathan, the p.r.i.c.k who organized Trent's life. Lee seemed the most likely candidate for playing let's make a deal with the coven, trading information about me to erase his own questionable dealings in black magic-if he cared to risk their finding out he was just like me. It had to be Trent.

Ivy's expression became pensive. Having born the brunt of a master vampire's attentions, she knew how easy it was to control someone through their emotions. She was still trapped in her own personal h.e.l.l even though the lock had been broken and the door was wide open.

Behind his desk, Glenn looked unsure. ”They can't do this. Even the coven of moral and ethical standards has to work within the law. Can't you file an appeal or something?”

At that, I smiled and Ivy slumped against the door frame. ”Sure, but if I disappear, who's to say different? Ever wonder why witches generally don't make much trouble? We police ourselves, just like Weres and vamps. We have a long history of hiding, Glenn. The I.S. just picks up the ones who are stupid enough to be caught.” Caught committing benign crimes like theft, larceny, murder-stuff humans were conditioned to deal with. It seemed ironic that bringing in the stupid ones was what I used to do for a living.

I was totally depressed now, and Jenks rose, his dragonflylike wings clattering for attention. ”Rache, we've done kidnap prevention before. The weather is warm enough to string pixy lines in the garden, and we've got Bis now. They want you alive, right?”

”To start with, yeah,” I said, not feeling any better. Ever since quitting the I.S., it seemed as if all I'd done was run. I was tired of it. But Jenks was right. We'd find a way around this. We always did.

Looking up, I met Glenn's eyes, then Ivy's. Taking a slow breath, I stood. ”I'll call David when I get home,” I said, dropping another bit of strawberry off me and into Glenn's trash. ”He's great with paperwork. If you can't overpower them, you drown them in red tape.” I managed a smile. ”Thanks, guys. I don't know what I'd do without you.”

”Die, probably,” Jenks said with a laugh as we headed out.

But the thing was, he was right.

Traffic among Cincy's tight buildings was clogged, the night gloom making the oncoming car lights all the brighter. It was going to be stop-and-go all the way to the interstate, and I almost wished I'd taken the longer way through Old Newport, but the FIB building was right in downtown Cincy, and the Hollows were just over the bridge. Once I got on the expressway, I'd be home in ten minutes.

”Accident?” I guessed, glancing across the narrow front seat of my convertible to Ivy, chilling as she watched nothing, her expression blank as she dwelled on who knew what. Her long fingers spun a world-weary, holed coin holed coin laced on a faded purple ribbon around her neck like it was a rosary. She kept it as a reminder that she couldn't love without hurt, and it worried me. laced on a faded purple ribbon around her neck like it was a rosary. She kept it as a reminder that she couldn't love without hurt, and it worried me.

Jenks buzzed his wings to warm himself as he sat on the rearview mirror and looked backward. ”You want me to go look?”

I flicked my attention to the heater controls, attention to the heater controls, cranked to warm the already hot car. If he'd offered, it wasn't too cold for him outside, but for him to risk his core temp dropping to satisfy my curiosity was not what our partners.h.i.+p was about. ”Nahh. It's probably nightwalkers.” cranked to warm the already hot car. If he'd offered, it wasn't too cold for him outside, but for him to risk his core temp dropping to satisfy my curiosity was not what our partners.h.i.+p was about. ”Nahh. It's probably nightwalkers.”

Jenks's heels drummed against the mirror. ”Sun's been down for over two hours.”

I nodded, inching forward another three car lengths and just missing the light. Sighing, I cracked the window. It smelled like hot strawberries in here.

It had been forty years since the Turn and all the various Inderland species had come out of hiding to save humanity from extinction. Night and graveyard s.h.i.+fts had taken on entirely new meanings. What I was stuck in now was the dark-loving parts of Inderland trying to get to work and the late-working humans trying to get home. Rush hour s.h.i.+fted with the sun, two hours before sunrise and two hours after sunset being the worst. We were at the tail end of it.

My elbow went onto the tiny lip of the closed window and my fist propped up my head. Between Trent's offer and the coven wanting my head, I wasn't in the best of moods. A sigh slipped from me as I counted the people pa.s.sing with cell phones against their ears.

”I told you not to worry about it, Rache,” Jenks said, mistaking my worry. ”I owe you lots more than lousy bail money.”

”Thanks, Jenks,” I said, accelerating when the light changed. ”I appreciate it. I'll pay you back when I can.” I'm so sick of not being able to make it on my own. I'm so sick of not being able to make it on my own.

Ivy reached for the chicken strap when I took the corner tight, only to stop short at another light. ”It's a slump,” she said, her gray voice seeming to ease out of the dark corner of my car. ”We all have them. It's part of being an independent.”

”Yeah.” Jenks dropped to the steering wheel, grapevining on it as the light changed and I turned. ”Did I ever tell you about the time I was working for the I.S. to help feed my family? Matalina had just had another set of quads and things were looking ugly. I had to take a job for hazard pay to babysit this witch no one else would touch.”

I couldn't stop my smile. ”Best backup I ever had, or ever will have.”

The pixy's wings moved faster as I accelerated. ”Thanks.”

A soft, happy sound came from Ivy, and he turned at the unfamiliar noise. The living vamp wasn't always gloomy, but she was never obvious about her good moods. The pixy took flight, buzzing an irritating circle around her. ”I love you, too, Ivy,” he said with just the right amount of sarcasm to keep things light.

Her long fingers waved him away, slowly so there was no chance of hitting him. Two years ago, if anyone had told me that I'd abandon my I.S. job to go independent with a living vampire and a pixy, I would've said they were crazy. It wasn't that we didn't do well together. We did. We did fantastically together. But my decisions, which always seemed sound at the time, had a tendency to backfire-badly. And the coven trying to kidnap me was really bad. Signing that paper of Trent's to get out of it was even worse.

I inched forward, eyes on the red taillights of the cars stopped on the interstate/parking lot. I wasn't going to let Kalamack's offer get to me. ”So, Ivy,” I said, trying to s.h.i.+ft my thoughts. ”What's going on with you and Glenn?”

The living vampire's eyes glinted as she flicked her attention to Jenks. ”You told her!” she exclaimed, and my lips parted. Told me? Jenks knew? Knew what? Told me? Jenks knew? Knew what?

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