Chapter Twenty-nine

My eyes fluttered open when Glenn eased to a stop at a stoplight. Blinking, I realized I was almost home, and I sat up from my slouch. The day had gotten warm, and apparently I'd nodded off. Clearly, being knocked out for eight hours wasn't the same as sleep. Embarrassed, I glanced at Glenn, flushing when he smiled at me, his teeth a startling white against his dark skin.

"Please tell me I wasn't snoring," I muttered, never imagining I would have fallen asleep. I had only closed my eyes to gather my thoughts. Or maybe to escape from everything.

"You snore cute," he said, giving his unused ashtray a tap. "You two are funny."

Jenks rose from it in a puff of gold glitters. "I'm awake!" he exclaimed, tugging his clothes straight and looking charmingly wide-eyed as he arranged his shock of blond hair. He, at least, had an excuse, seeing as he was usually asleep this time of day.

The clock on the dash said it was a shade after two. After leaving David's, Glenn had first taken me to the FIB to make an official statement before the I.S. could choose the most inopportune time to get one from me. From there we went to pick Jenks up at the I.S. and physically drop off a copy of my paperwork, all nice and legal. We visited the morgue in there, too, which had left me depressed. I was sure Glenn had more to do than cart us around, but since I didn't have a valid license, I appreciated it.

David was still in custody. Jenks had overheard his interrogation, and apparently Brett had met with David yesterday to talk about Brett joining our pack. It was supposed to have been a surprise, which had me in tears when I found out. That's why Trent had targeted him. Trent was slime, and I cursed myself for letting some of the good things he did - like admit he spent the morning with me, for instance - cloud the fact that he was a murderer and drug lord. He only did something decent if it might be of some use to him, such as giving himself an alibi for seven to seven-thirty. Ceri had it right. The man was a demon in all but species.

Under some made-up point of law, the I.S. was detaining David without any formal charges. It was illegal, but someone in the basement had probably realized that the focus was out, seeing as a loner was turning human women into Weres. David was knee-deep in it. It would only be a matter of time before I joined him. Maybe if he was in I.S. custody, Trent couldn't kill him. Maybe.

I'm sorry, David. I never expected this to happen.

The cool shade of my street fell over me, and I gathered my bag onto my lap, feeling for the heavy outlines of the focus. Squinting, I realized there was a black van parked in front of the church - and someone was tacking a note on my door.

"Jenks. Look at that," I whispered, and he followed my gaze.

Glenn eased to a stop several car lengths back, and when I cracked the window, Jenks darted out, saying, "I'll see what it is."

The man with the hammer caught sight of us, and with a worrisome quickness he hustled down the stairs and into his vehicle.

"You want me to stay?" Glenn asked, shoving the car into park. He had a pencil in his grip and was writing down the plate number as the black van drove away.

The dust spilling from Jenks as he hovered before the note shifted from gold to red. "I don't know," I murmured. Getting out, I stomped up the stairs.

"Evicted!" Jenks said, his face white when he spun in the air. "Rachel, Piscary evicted us. He evicted us!"

My stomach going light, I ripped the paper from the nail. "No freaking way," I said, skimming the official document. It was blurry from being the second copy, but clear enough. We had thirty days to vacate.

They were going to tear the church down now that it wasn't sanctified, but the impetus behind it was Piscary.

Glenn leaned out the window. "Everything okay?"

"Rache," Jenks exclaimed, clearly terrified. "I can't move my family. Matalina isn't well! They're going to bulldoze the garden!"

"Jenks!" I said, hands upraised though I couldn't touch him. "It's going to be okay. I promise. We'll work something out. Matalina will be fine!"

Jenks stared at me, his eyes wide. "I... I," he stammered, then with a little moan, he darted up and around to the back of the church.

My hands fell to my sides. I felt so helpless.

"Rachel?" Glenn called from the street, and I turned.

"We've been evicted," I said, moving the paper in explanation. "Thirty days." Anger trickled into me.

Glenn's eyes narrowed. "Don't do it, witch," he warned as he looked at my fists, clenched at my sides.

I gazed down the street at nothing, getting madder. "I'm not going to kill him," I said. "Give me some credit. This is an invitation. If I don't go see him, he'll do something worse." Shit. My mother.

Glenn ducked back in the window. His door opened, and he got out. My blood pressure rose. "Get your little brown-sugar candy ass back in your ugly Grown Victoria," I said. "I know what I'm doing."

My fingers felt the outlines of the focus in my bag as Glenn came to the bottom of the steps and looked up at me, pistol on his hip and attitude all over him like icing on a cake. "Give me your car keys."

"Don't think so."

His eyes narrowed. "Give them to me or I'm going to arrest you myself."

"On what grounds?" I asked belligerently, looking down at him.

"You boots. They're breaking every unwritten fashion law."

Huffing, I looked at them, tilting one onto the toe to see them better. "I'm just going to talk to him, nice and friendly."

Eyebrows high, Glenn put his hand out. "I've seen how you talk to Piscary. Keys?"

My jaw clenched. "Put a car at my mother's house," I demanded, and when he nodded, I shoved the eviction paper into my bag, found my keys, and threw them at him. "Bastard," I muttered as they hit his hand.

"That's my girl," he said as he looked at the zebra-striped car key. "You get them back when you go to class."

I opened the door to the church and put my hand on my hip. "You call me your girl one more time and I'm going to turn your gonads into plums and make jam out of them."

Chuckling, Glenn got into his car.

Entering the dark foyer, I pulled the heavy door shut to make the upper transom windows rattle. My bag held tight to me, I stomped into the sanctuary and headed for my desk. Yanking open drawers, I slammed and banged around until I found my spare set of keys. It had everything the first had plus the key that opened Ivy's safe and one from Nick's apartment, never thrown away. God knows why.

A smug satisfaction tugged the corners of my mouth up into a wicked smile as I dropped the keys into my bag, and I went to the side window to watch Glenn turn the corner at the end of the street. The red of the stained glass gave everything outside an unreal look, like the ever-after.

"Jenks!" I shouted as his car vanished. "If you can hear me, get your best suit on. We have some major ass kissing to do."

Chapter Thirty

This isn't the same, I told myself, my two-handed grip tightening on the wheel of my convertible and the wind from the cracked window tugging a few strands from my braid. This wasn't anything like the night I had tried to tag Piscary last year. For one, Jenks was with me this time. I wasn't mad either - not blind mad anyway. It was daylight for at least a few more hours - not that that made a difference. Jenks was with me. I had a nice peace offering to buy my life with, and, lastly, Jenks was with me.

Signaling, I made a quick left turn, heading to the riverfront and going against the predominant flow of traffic. I had friends at Pizza Piscary's, but Piscary was back, and they wouldn't help me. Jenks was my confidence now that the focus was really at the post office, lost in the human bureaucracy so deep and jealously guarded that even the I.S. couldn't reach it. His presence meant more to me than my splat gun, fully stocked and tucked into my bag. I had an invoked pain charm around my neck, hanging outside my shirt so it wouldn't affect me until I needed it. And I had a feeling I was going to need it.

Other than that, I was going in pretty much naked of earth charms. I had a hefty amount of ley line energy spindled in my head, though, and in my pocket a pair of heavy-duty toenail clippers you might use on an elephant, which I hoped would be strong enough to cut an anti - ley line zip-strip. But it was Jenks I was counting on to be the difference between my walking out with a new lease on life or spending an eternity of hell with Piscary or Al.

This was my best option. Trent knew I had the focus. The I.S. wasn't so dense that they hadn't realized it was still in my possession. I wanted Piscary's protection from all of them.

My God. How did I get to this place?

The breeze from my window shifted Jenks's wings. He was sitting on the rearview mirror, facing backward as he gazed vacantly into the past. His features were lined and worried. There wasn't a scrap of red on him - a symbol of his intent. If we lost the garden, the stress might tip Matalina into a downward spiral. I'd be hard-pressed to keep him from trying to kill Piscary if push came to shove. But if push came to shove, killing Piscary might be the only way to survive.

I didn't want to do that. The undead vampire was the only person I knew who could keep the focus safe until it could be hidden again.

Seeing Jenks's misery, I took a breath to ask him about his outfit. I'd never seen it before, sort of a combination of Quen's black uniform with the free-flowing folds of a desert sheik's robes. But Jenks's gaze flicked to mine, making me pause.

"Thanks, Rachel," he said, wings utterly still. "For everything. I want to tell you in case we both don't make it through this."

"Jenks..." I started, and he cut me off with a sharp wing chirp.

"Shut your mouth, witch!" he snapped, though I could tell he wasn't mad. "I want to thank you - this past year has been the best in my life. And not just for me. That sterility wish I got from you is probably why Matalina made it through last winter. The garden and everything that came with working with you?" Jenks's gaze went distant. "Even if they bulldoze everything, I want you to know that it was worth it. My kids know you can make it if you take risks and work hard. That we can work in the system you lunkers set up. That's all a parent really needs to give his kids. That, and how to love someone with all your soul."

This was sounding like a last confession, and I flicked my gaze from the car braking in front of me to him. "Jeez, Jenks. We're going to be fine. I'll give Piscary the focus, and he'll rescind the eviction. And once everyone knows he has the thing, life will go back to normal. Matalina will be fine."

He didn't say anything. Matalina wasn't going to be fine no matter what happened in the next twenty-four hours. But I'd be damned if I wouldn't do what I could to get her through the coming winter. She was not going to hibernate and risk not waking up, that was for sure.

Jenks's wings drooped, and he pulled a fold of fabric up and polished his sword. Just as well. I wasn't enjoying the conversation, and Jenks's misery was making my stomach hurt. I wished he were bigger again, just so I could give him a hug.

Understanding hit me, and I stiffened. This inability to touch was what Ivy lived with every day. She couldn't touch anyone she cared about without her blood lust asserting itself.

We are so screwed up.

I forced myself back from the bumper of the guy in front of me. Piscary's was just ahead, and I wanted to get off the street before the I.S. found me. They were suspiciously absent, and I wondered if they were watching me from a distance to see if I had left to get the focus from someone. I suppose mailing it hadn't been the smartest thing, but I couldn't put it into a bus locker, and giving it to Ceri would've been a mistake. Humanity had steadfastly kept control of the mail system, and even Piscary would think twice about leaning on an overworked employee who might snap and go postal. There were some things even a vampire wouldn't mess with.

The jitters started, and Jenks's wings shifted fitfully as we pulled in to Piscary's parking lot. Yeah, the plan looked good on paper, but Piscary might be more ticked than I thought about my putting him in jail. That I'd just been doing my job probably wouldn't go very far with him.

Nervous, I scanned the area. There were a few cars clustered about the kitchen entrance that were clearly not patrons'. I didn't see Ivy's cycle, but there was a huge mound of stuff piled at the curb. Sheets of paneling that once covered the upstairs windows and the tall, trendy tables and stools that Kisten had put in were now carelessly piled to make a five-foot wall between the lot and the street, waiting for pickup. Apparently Piscary was doing a little remodeling.

My eyes widened, and I took my foot off the gas when I realized Kisten's light show was among it, the metal scaffolding bent and twisted as if it had been pulled from the ceiling without regard. The colored lights were smashed, and his pool table was leaning atop it.

"Rache," Jenks said, chilling me, "that pile of trash just moved."

Fear slid through me, and my heart jumped. It was Kisten sitting on the curb between the mounds of debris. Sun glinting on his blond hair, he threw something into the pile with a metallic ting. He looked rumpled in his red silk shirt and black linen slacks. Discarded.

"Oh, my God," I whispered. His head came up as I swung the car around to point my nose to the exit, parking sideways against the faded lines. There was anger in his absolutely black eyes - utter hatred blending with betrayal and frustration.

"Ah, Rachel, maybe you should stay in the car."

Heart pounding, I fumbled for the door, and Jenks zipped out before me, aggressive and wary. Kisten stood, and, leaving the car running, I glanced at the dark restaurant and the upper windows overlooking the parking lot. Nothing moved but a scrap of paper taped to the door. Worried, I paced to him, my kick-butt boots tapping. "Kisten?"

"What are you doing here?" he barked, and I jerked to a stop, confused.

I stood there for a moment with the nearby cars whooshing past, trying to realign my thinking. "Piscary evicted us," I said, Jenks's wings clattering as he hovered. "What happened?" I said, gesturing to his club, now on the curb.

"What do you think happened!" he shouted, looking at the silent restaurant. "The son of a bitch kicked me out! He kicked me out and gave my last blood to someone."

God help us. His last blood? As in "Here he is, have fun draining him to death?"

Pulse quickening, I dropped back when Kisten swooped down to the fragments of his dance club. With vampiric strength he flung a chair at the front door, the metal tumbling and clanking to stop short of the entryway. The wind from the nearby river tugged at my braid, and I felt cold despite the two shirts I had on. "Kisten," I said, frightened, "it's going to be okay."

But my confidence trickled away when he turned to me, his shoulders hunched and dark fear and hatred in his eyes. "No," he rasped. "It isn't. He gave me to someone as a thank-you. To kill. For their enjoyment. And no one will stop him because he's a. fucking god!"

The draft from Jenks's wings tickled my neck, and an iron-cold band of fear slithered through my heart. There was death in Kisten's eyes.

There in the sunshine, death waited. Backing up another step, I felt my mouth go dry.

Kisten dipped a hand into a leather pocket of the pool table to come up with the five hall. "When Ivy says no, she gets praised for her strength of will," he said bitterly, hefting it experimentally for weight. "When I say no, I get fucking kicked out!" With a grunt he threw the ball. It sped over the parking lot, almost unseen. "Fuck you, you bastard!" he shouted, and a window broke in the upper story.

I jumped when Jenks landed on my shoulder. "Ah... Rachel?" he said, and gold dust spilled over me. "Leave. Please just get in the car and leave."

Swallowing, I took a hesitant step forward while Kisten found another pool ball. "Kisten?" I whispered, frightened at his show of temper. Never had I seen him this bad. "Come on," I said, reaching out to take his arm. "We have to go."

Jenks left me, and Kisten froze when I tugged on him. Face empty, he turned, his black eyes freezing me as they glinted from behind his blond-dyed bangs. Feeling like I'd made a mistake, I let go. "We have to leave," I said, worried someone would come out.

"Go where?" he said around a harsh laugh that didn't sound like him at all. "I'm dead, Rachel. Soon as the sun goes down, someone's going to kill me. As slowly as their anticipation can stand. I gave everything to that bastard, and now he won't - " His words broke off, and fear and pain crossed his face. "I did everything for him," he said, betrayal staining his anger. "Made a shitload of profit off his bar when it lost its MPL, and now he fucking won't touch me!"

His rage and desperation finding a release in a movement of controlled anguish, Kisten threw another pool ball. I fell back, almost tripping on the wreckage of his light show.

"I made more on his damned business after he lost his MPL than he did all of last year!" he shouted, and the ball thunked low and to the left of a wide plate-glass window.

"He never even looked at the books!" Kisten threw a third, and my pulse raced when it went through the wall. "He doesn't fucking care!" he raged, and the eight ball hit the window.

I gasped when it shattered completely and a shadow came forward to investigate.

Kisten turned away, palm on the pool table sitting at a forty-five-degree cant atop a stacked pile of little round tables. Beyond the rubble, cars passed, oblivious. "He never looked at the books," he said softly, as if trying to figure it out. "I thought that would mean something."

The creak of the restaurant's door opening sent alarm spiking through me. Fear for what was coming beat the fear of Kisten's having lost it, and I pulled on his arm, the scent of old blood mixing with his usual scent of leather. "Get in the car. Kisten, get in my car!"

"He never looked at the books," Kisten said again, in shock. "Just put down an ultimatum, then gave my last blood to the vampire who set up the deal between him and that demon to get him out. Someone who doesn't care about me. I... I wanted him to have it."

This was just too sick. "Kisten, we have to go!" I exclaimed, my gaze darting to the five big men walking toward us, their pace slow and their wide shoulders swinging. One hesitated at the chair Kisten had thrown, twisting a metal leg free before falling back into step. Ah, shit.

Kisten's head came up at the sound of metal tearing. My face went cold. He was dead inside. Though he breathed and his heart beat, Kisten was dead, killed by an anger and betrayal that I'd never comprehend. He'd known Piscary his entire life. Bound his life to him. Was given power and authority over others through him. Found and relished the power of living above the law because of him. And Piscary had ripped all the promises away and thrown him to the curb without pity or thought. Discarded. Given to someone as a gift to take pleasure in killing him. This is who I wanted to buy protection from?

"Please," I whispered, both wanting and fearing Kist's turning his black eyes to me. My hand was on his shoulder, and the muscles of his arm tightened as he made a fist. I saw his determination before he voiced it.

"I need to hurt someone, Rachel," he said, brushing my hand from him. "Don't stop this until I can't move." He pulled a pool cue from the wreckage and hefted it.

"Kisten!" I pleaded, but he shoved me backward. I stumbled to catch my balance, frightened, and Kisten went to meet them, never looking back. Panicking, I shifted my weight to follow, but Jenks dropped down to block my way.

"Let him go," he said, his hands on his hips and a grim determination on his face.

"They're going to kill him!" I said, pointing to the advancing vampires as Kisten took up a stance between me and my car, but Jenks shook his head.

"No they won't," he said, eyes never leaving them. "He belongs to someone else." His eyes went to me, filled with deep fear. "After they finish beating him up, you've got to get him out of Cincy before whoever that is finds him."

"That's what I'm trying to do!" I shouted, almost stamping my foot. Stupid, asinine men. How could I give Piscary the focus now? But then a thought hit me, painful and hard. If the focus was as important as I thought, then maybe I could buy Kisten's safety as well as mine? I had to let Ivy find her own way out, but Kisten...

My panic rose anew, and I shifted from foot to foot out of helplessness as the men closed on Kisten. One of the vampires slid across the hood of my car while four more continued forward to trap him against the trash. The one in the lead was familiar. I recognized the slant to his cruel smile. It was the guy Kisten had beat up last year before taking me down to see Piscary. Sam.

"Jenks..." I said nervously. My bag with my splat gun was out of reach in my car.

"It'll be okay," he said, his voice high, but I didn't believe him. "Stay out of it."

"Jenks?" I said louder, then jumped when Kisten shifted his grip and swung his pool stick at Sam. Sam blocked it without slowing down. Smiling to show fangs, he followed it with a hop-step and a side kick to Kisten's middle.

Kisten took it, turning his body into a roundhouse. His face was ugly with hatred: I'd never seen it raw in him before, and I backed up, a fist to my chest. Do they really expect me to just stand here and let them beat him up?

Almost too fast to see, Kisten and Sam exchanged blows, the other vampires ringing them. No one was paying any attention to me, but I couldn't get to my car.

"Kisten, behind you!" I shouted when one of them grabbed Kisten as he rocked back.

Teeth bared, Kisten took the second vampire's arm. A soft pull and a savage twist, and a scream of pain ripped from the vampire's throat.

Kisten licked his lips before smacking the butt end of the pool cue into the vamp's neck. Black eyes intent, he snarled and shoved the downed vampire to the pavement, kicking the writhing man as he tried to breathe.

Sam charged him, and Kisten swung his broken cue like a knife. Sam danced back, taunting until Kisten followed, coming away from the downed vampire. I didn't think he was breathing yet, still convulsing on the pavement.

A third vampire wearing a backward cap came forward, hunched and cautious with that chair leg in his grip. Lost in battle lust, Kisten jumped at him, fangs bared.

The vampire sprang sideways, and Kisten shifted, falling to the ground for a leg sweep.

The metal chair leg pinged as it hit the ground right before the vampire holding it. I gasped when Kisten moved too fast to see, covering the man for the span of a breath. His cry of pain cut off with a frightening quickness, and Kisten rolled away, the metal leg in his hands now. It was aimed at Sam, and the vampire cautiously backed up. Howling like a mad thing, Kisten attacked, his movements blurred and fast.

The twitching of the vampire Kisten had left on the pavement stopped. His eyes stared unseeing at the faultlessly blue sky. His hair shifted in the wind. But the man was dead. I could tell. And I hadn't even seen what Kisten had done to him.

"Kisten, stop!" I shouted, then leapt to the side when the fourth vampire smashed into the pool table beside me. He hit it hard, his eyes going blank and his limbs spread-eagle for a breathless moment until he slid to hit the pavement.

I turned to Kisten, my heart pounding. I wanted it to stop, but he was out of control and I was afraid to interfere. His face was twisted and ugly. His motions were sharp and aggressive. And when Sam came at him with the same look, I could do nothing.

Grunting, Sam spun, his hair flaring as he smashed a roundhouse into Kisten's head.

Kisten stumbled back, a hand coming up to touch the blood leaking from a cut under his eye. As if not feeling it, he took a back kick, then another, each one moving him closer to me.

The third one, Kisten caught. Sam's face went still, and with a savage smile, Kisten wrenched his ankle. Sam cried out in anger to drop back in a controlled fall and keep Kisten from snapping it. Kisten moved to follow up with a deathblow, and Sam spun on his back for momentum, flinging his unhurt foot at Kisten's knee in a sweep.

Kisten went down, his foot knocked out from under him. I reached out, then gasped when two of the other vampires he had previously downed fell on him. Grunts of pain and silent thuds of fists into flesh turned my stomach as they attacked Kisten. One vampire, Kisten could hold his own against, but two? It had turned into a mauling.

Sam staggered to his feet, wiping a ribbon of blood from his chin. "Get him up," he breathed heavily, and Jenks got in my way, stopping me from interfering. Frustrated, I jerked back. This was enough. He'd had enough!

But when Sam looked at me and pointed for me to stay, I did, frightened by the dark depth of hatred in him. "Don't worry, chicky witch," he said, breathing heavy. "We're almost done. Piscary gave him to someone else to kill, or he'd be dead already."

He laughed then, chilling me to my soul. He knew who it was. He knew who Piscary had given Kisten to. I wondered if it was whoever had summoned Al to arrange the entire con to get Piscary out of jail. "Who is it!" I shouted, but he only laughed harder.

Using the support of my car, the vampire with the broken arm and the one stunned by hitting the pool table struggled to drag Kisten upright. Blood leaked from Kisten's mouth, and there was a cut under his eye, which was swollen almost closed. His blond hair glinted in the sunlight as his head hung. Sam limped closer, grabbing his hair and jerking his head up.

Kisten squinted to see him. Anger simmered in him still, and Sam smiled tauntingly. "Thought you were such a bad-ass," he said, then punched him in the gut.

I lurched forward as Kisten sagged, almost pulling down the vampires who held him. "You're nothing!" Sam shouted, furious. "You never were! Everything was Piscary!"

Balance hobbling, Sam punched him again, and Kisten groaned.

"That's enough!" I shouted, ignored, and Jenks's wings hummed.

The angry vampire wiped the blood from his nose, marking Kisten's hair when he yanked his head up again. Kisten's eyes were shut, and I could see the breath passing his bloodied lip and his chest moving as he breathed. "You were never anything, Felps. Remember that when you die. You were nothing alive, and you'll be less when you're dead."

"I said that's enough!" I shouted, hearing the wail of distant sirens.

Sam glanced at me and smiled to show his teeth. "Come see me when you need a little something, chicky witch. I'd love to give it to you."

I took a breath to tell him to shove it, but the two vampires let Kisten go, and he slid down the side of my car. Balancing to keep the weight off his broken ankle, Sam leaned toward Kisten. Kisten jerked, and horror hit me when Sam straightened with the diamond stud earring from Kisten's ear.

"Piscary says you're going to be dead twice by sunup," Sam said, head tilted as he put the earring in his own lobe. "He doesn't think you've got the guts to see it through and redeem yourself. Says you've gone soft. Me? I think you never had it in you to be undead."

The other two vampires started to hobble away, and after giving Kisten a last kick, Sam headed after them, leaving the last of them to stare at the sun.

Kisten barely moved, curling in on himself. Pulse fast, I went to him. This had been stupid. God! How stupid could men be? Beating each other up had done a helluva lot of good. "Kisten," I said, kneeling beside him. I glanced behind me at the road, wondering why no one had stopped. Kisten was a mess, his head hanging, bleeding all over from scrapes and contusions. His expensive slacks were scuffed, and his silk shirt was torn. Fingers fumbling, I got my pain amulet off my neck and around his, hearing him take a clean breath when I tucked it behind his shirt and it connected with his skin.

"It's going to be okay," I said, wishing I could see the restaurant, but my car was in the way. "Come on, Kisten. Help me get you up." At least I wouldn't have to drag him to the car.

He pushed me off him, then leaned back and used his legs to push himself against my car to get himself upright. "I'm okay," he said, squinting at my worried face, then spitting blood onto the gravel. "Give me... my... lucky stick."

His eyes were on the broken cue, and my lips pressed together. "Just get in the damn car," I swore. "We have to get out of here. It sounds like the I.S. is coming," I fumbled for the door, Jenks getting in the way as he tried to help, dusting Kisten's cuts.

"I want my stick," Kisten said again as he fell into the passenger seat, his bloodied hair smearing the window. "I'm going to... shove it... up Piscary's ass."

Yeah, that sounds likely. But after I put both of his feet into the car and yanked him upright, I scooped up the broken cue and set it next to him. I slammed the door shut, only now glancing at the restaurant. Fear hit me, and I held my arms around myself, feeling the wind tug at my hair. Ivy was down there, lost in the madness that was Piscary. And I was going to have to deal with him for Kisten as well as myself. My gaze went to Kisten, slumped in the front seat. I had to get Ivy out of there. This was insane. Stuff like this shouldn't happen.

The howl of sirens lifted through me, and as traffic passed at a hurried forty-five miles per hour, I paced to my side of the car. "Rachel," Jenks said, getting in my way, "this isn't safe."

"Gee, you think?" I said bitterly, reaching for the handle, but he got in my way again.

"No," he said, hovering so close I was almost cross-eyed. "I mean I don't think you're safe. With Kisten."

I looked at Kisten slumped against the blood-smeared window, then yanked open my door. "This isn't the time for pixy paranoia," I said tightly.

Shedding a bright coppery dust that landed on my hand to make it tingle, he refused to move. "I think Piscary told him to kill you," he pleaded softly, so Kisten couldn't hear. "And when Kisten refused, he threw him out. You heard what Kisten said about Ivy saying no and getting praised and him getting kicked out."

I stopped, my hand on the open door. I felt cold. Jenks landed on the window before me, his wings never slowing. "Think, Rachel," he said, gesturing. "He's been dependent upon Piscary for his entire life. Ivy isn't the only one Piscary's been screwing over, but Kisten has always been pliant, so it doesn't show. Killing you is the only way he might get back in with Piscary. Rache, this isn't safe. Don't trust this."

Jenks's face was pinched in fear. The sound of sirens grew closer. I remembered what Keasley had said about vampires needing someone stronger than they were to protect them against the undead, and my resolve strengthened. I couldn't just walk away. "Watch my back, okay?"

At that, Jenks nodded as if expecting it. "Like you were my last seedling in the garden," he said, then swooped into the car. Taking a last look at the restaurant, I gathered my resolve. I got in, feeling light and unreal. Beside me Kisten groaned.

"Where's my stick?" he breathed, and I jumped when the starter ground as I tried to turn the already-running car over again.

"It's at your feet," I muttered, frustrated. I jammed it into first and lurched forward. I reached the exit before I remembered my seat belt, and I screeched to a halt at the entrance to fasten it. Sitting there watching the traffic pass, I felt my chest clench. I didn't have anywhere to go. In a sudden decision, I pulled out to go the opposite way from the church.

"Where are we going?" Jenks asked, dropping to land on my shoulder as the car settled into its new direction.

I glanced at my keys and Nick's apartment key. Nick had said he'd paid rent through August, and I was willing to bet the place was empty. "To Nick's. I can't take him home," I said, lips barely moving. "Everyone knows that's where I'd take him."

I snuck a glance at Kisten, his eyes swollen shut as he mumbled, "I shouldn't have put in the light display. I should have left the kitchen menu alone."

Jenks was silent. Then in a very small, panicked voice, he said, "I have to go home."

My breath caught, and I exhaled in understanding. Matalina was there alone. If someone showed up at the church looking for Kisten, Jenks's family might be in danger. "Go," I said.

"I can't leave you."

Twisting, I grabbed my bag from the back and fumbled until I had my splat gun on my lap. Eyeing Jenks's expression, torn with indecision, I pulled to the curb and hit the brakes. Kisten weakly braced himself as he shifted forward and back. Horns blew, and I ignored them.

"Get your little pixy ass out of the car and get home," I said, voice even and level as I rolled the window down. "Take care of your family."

"But you're my family, too," he said.

My throat tightened. Every time I screwed up big time, Jenks was gone. "I'll be fine."

"Rache-"

"I'll be fine!" I shouted, frustrated, and Kisten turned to us, squinting and breathing hard. "I'm a witch, damn it! I'm not helpless. I can handle this. Go!"

Jenks lifted into the air. "Call me if you need me. I'll have my phone on."

I managed a smile. "Deal."

He nodded, his face looking old and young all at the same time, and I froze when he flew close, his wings brushing my cheek for an instant. "Thank you," he said.

And then he was gone.

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