For a Few Demons More(39)
Skirting the circle of blasphemed ground encompassing the grave marker of a weeping angel, I squinted at him. “Sure. Just tell them to watch the oozing tips. That stuff is toxic.”
He nodded, his wings a gossamer blur as he went to my other side so I wasn’t looking into the sun. “They know.” He hesitated, then with a quickness that said he was embarrassed, blurted, “Are you going to need me today?”
I looked up from my uneven footing, then back down. “No. What’s up?”
A smile full of parental pride came over him, and a faint sparkle of gold fell as he let some dust slip. “It’s Jih,” he said in satisfaction.
My pace faltered. Jih was his eldest daughter, now living across the street with Ceri to build up a garden to support her and a future family. Seeing my worry, Jenks laughed. “She’s fine! But she’s got three pixy bucks circling her and her garden and wants me to build something with them so she can see how they work, then make her decision from that.”
“Three!” I adjusted my grip on my spell pot. “Good Lord. Matalina must be tickled.”
Jenks dropped to my shoulder. “I suppose,” he grumbled. “Jih is beside herself. She likes them all. I just stole Matalina and didn’t bother with the traditional season-long supervised courtship. Jih wants to make a dragonfly hut. Poor guy who wins is going to need it.”
I wanted to look at him, but he was too close. “You stole Matalina?”
“Yup. If we had jumped through all the hoops, we never would have gotten the front entryway gardens or the flower boxes.”
My eyes went to my feet, and I picked my path so I wouldn’t jar him. He had dropped tradition to gain a six-by-eight swath of garden and some flower boxes. Now he had a walled garden of four city lots. Jenks was doing well. Well enough that his children could take time from their life for the rituals that marked it. “It’s nice that Jih has you to help her,” I said.
“I suppose,” he muttered, but I could tell he was eager for the chance to guide his daughter in making a good decision in who to spend her life with. Maybe that’s why I keep making such stellar decisions in my own love life, I thought, smirking at the idea of Jenks coming out on a first date with me and grilling the poor guy. Then I blinked. He had warned Kisten to behave himself when I went out with him that first time. Damn, had Kisten gotten Jenks’s stamp of approval?
The gust from Jenks’s wings cooled the sweat on my neck. “Hey, I gotta go. She’s waiting. I’ll see you tonight.”
“Sure,” I said, and he rose up. “Tell her I said congrats!”
He gave me a salute and darted off. I watched him for a moment, then continued to the back door, imaging the grief he was going to put the three young pixy bucks through. The heavenly scent of baking muffins was slipping out the kitchen window, and, breathing deeply, I climbed up the few stairs. I checked the bottoms of my sneakers, stomped my feet, and entered the torn-apart living room. Three Guys and a Toolbox had yet to show up, and the smell of splintered wood mixed with the scent of baking. My stomach rumbled, so I headed into the kitchen. It was empty but for the muffins cooling on the stove, and after dropping my cuttings by the sink, I washed my hands and eyed the cooling bread. Apparently Ivy was up and in the mood to bake. Unusual, but I was going to take advantage of it.
Juggling a muffin and the fish food, I fed myself and Mr. Fish both, then pulled a dark green T-shirt on over my chemise and collapsed into my chair, happy with the world. I started at the sudden skittering of claws, and an orange ball of feline terror streaked into the kitchen and under my chair. Pixies spilled in, a swirling storm of high-pitched screeching and whistles that made my skull hurt.
“Out!” I shouted, standing. “Get out! The church is her safe place, so get out!”
Pixy dust thickened to make my eyes water, but after the loud complaints and muttered disappointment, the Disney nightmare subsided as quickly as it had come. Smirking, I peered under my chair. Rex was huddled, her eyes black and her tail fluffed, the picture of fear incarnate. Jenks must already be at Jih’s, since his kids knew he’d bend their wings backward till they slipped dust if he caught them teasing his cat.
“What’s the matter, sweet pea?” I crooned, knowing better than to try to pet her. “Did those nasty pixies bother you?”
Eyes averted, she hunched down, content to stay where she was. Snorting, I carefully settled back, feeling like the great protector. Rex never sought me out for attention, but when danger threatened, I was where she ended up. Ivy said it was a cat thing. Whatever.