Ivy dropped back and watched me for a moment before starting to move quietly about and put the tools away. I could feel her attention on me as I worked down the stud line, aware she was there but not uncomfortable about it. It was noon, for criminy’s sake, and she had probably slaked her blood lust with Skimmer last night. And does that bother me? I asked myself, smacking a nail with an extra amount of force. Not at all. Not one bit. But I couldn’t stop the memory of her biting me from swimming up from my subconscious.
A soft tingle grew at my old demon scar, and I stayed still, simply tasting the feeling that warmed me from my skin inward and trying to decide if it had been born from my thoughts and Ivy’s pheromones—or my desire for her to be happy. Did it matter?
Jenks flew up from the sill and moved to the mantel, his wings clearing the dust from where he landed. “How about something in Latin?” he said as he walked to my list and stared down at it. “Like ‘kick-ass witch,’ or ‘royally screwed.’”
“Raptus regaliter?” I said, thinking it sounded too much like Rumpel stiltskin. “They all know Latin. I think that comes under using words in the dictionary.”
His expression sly, Jenks glanced at Ivy as she put the drill away. “How about Iaasw,” he said. “Which means ‘I am a stupid witch’—or here’s one.” Grinning, he stood on my list with his hands on his hips. “Nuacsiepasn? That’s a great name.”
Ivy shook the thick contractor garbage bag down and dropped her paper hat in it. “What’s that stand for?”
“‘Never under any circumstances should I ever pick a summoning name.’”
I pressed my lips together and hammered a nail.
Ivy snickered and took a sip of bottled water she had on the sill. “I think we should call her Spam, because her ass is going to be in a tin if she’s not careful.”
Ticked, I turned, hammer in hand. “You know what?” I said, waving it in a weak threat. “You can all just shut up. You can all shut up right now.”
Capping her water, Ivy frowned. “I don’t even know why you’re doing this.”
“Ivy—” I started, tired of it.
“It’s asking for trouble,” she said, setting the empty bottle back on the sill.
Jenks stood on my list, staring down at it with his hands on his hips. “She’s doing it for the thrill,” he said distantly.
“I am not!” I protested.
They both looked at me in disbelief. “Yes you are,” Jenks said as if it didn’t bother him. “It’s textbook Rachel. Coming close to something lethal, but not quite there.” He smiled. “And we lo-o-o-o-ove you for it,” he crooned.
“Shut up,” I muttered, turning my back on him and hammering. “I’m doing this so Minias doesn’t have to pop over here to get that mark resolved.” Leaning into the sun, I grabbed another handful of nails. “You liked Minias showing up that way?” I said.
His eyes on his kids clustered on the windowsill, Jenks shrugged. “I agree with what you’re doing, but not why.”
“I just told you why.” Nervous, I tucked a wayward strand of hair behind my ear. “Look, if you don’t want to help me pick out a password, that’s fine. I can do it myself.”
Ivy and Jenks glanced questioningly at each other—as if I were incapable of doing this on my own—and my blood pressure spiked.
“Dad!” came a high-pitched shriek from a desperate pixy. “Dad! Jariath and Jumoke glued my wings shut!”
Surprised, I felt my anger ping to nothing, and I turned to the window. Four streaks of gray raced out of the living room. There was a metallic crash from the kitchen, and I wondered what had hit the floor. Jenks stood frozen, his face a mix of fear of what would happen if Matalina found out and embarrassment that he had taken his eyes off them long enough for them to glue someone’s wings together.
Instantly he recovered and was airborne. Darting to the shelf, he tucked the hysterical child under his arm and took off after the others. In a swirl of silk and dismay, the entire clan whirled into motion. “Jariathjackjunisjumoke!” Jenks shouted from the kitchen, and then even that was gone, to leave only a shimmering sifting of dust and an echo of memory in our thoughts.
“Damn!” Ivy said to break the silence, then started to laugh quietly. Taking up the glue, she glanced at the label and tossed it to me. Water soluble, I thought, then dropped it into the toolbox. I smiled ruefully, and though I hoped Jenks got his kid’s wings unglued, I thought I had my summoning name right there. Jariathjackjunisjumoke. If I ever forgot it, all I’d have to do was ask any pixy kid who had gotten their backsides tanned for glueing someone’s wings shut.