For a Few Demons More(86)

“That’s low,” Glenn said, his eyes coming back to mine.

“Then find someone else to pimp your ketchup,” I said, guilt making me flush.

Jenks dropped from the trees, startling the FIB officer. “Rache,” the pixy said, giving no indication of what he thought of my blackmail, “I’ll get you home, then go to the morgue. I want to see if the body has needle marks. I can be back before you go to talk to Mr. Ray.”

I might have to be at the church alone with Ivy, was my first thought. “Sounds good,” I said, then feeling bad, I whispered to Glenn, “I was serious about the salsa. You want it now?”

He tightened his jaw, clearly angry, and Jenks laughed. “Give it up, you lousy cookie,” the pixy cajoled. “You have no right to the focus, and you know it.”

“It’s jalapeño,” I coaxed. “Burn your freaking eyeballs out of their sockets.”

Glenn’s irate look faltered, and when Jenks nodded in encouragement, Glenn licked his lips. “Jalapeño?” he murmured, his focus blurring.

“A gallon,” I said, feeling the thrill of the deal. “Do you have any zip-strips?”

Glenn’s awareness abruptly cleared. “I’m working on them, but it’s going to take some time. Do you want a pair of cuffs in the meanwhile?”

“Sure,” I said, though they wouldn’t stop a ley line witch. “I lost the first pair you gave me in the ever-after.” Man…I missed my old cuffs with the charms and everything. Maybe I could put the right spells into the decorative charms Kisten had given me with my bracelet. I’d have to ask what kind of metal they were.

Glenn looked guilty as he scanned the people behind me collecting data. “I need a few days,” he said, his lips barely moving as he slipped me his cuffs. “Can you hold on to it for me?”

I nodded as I tucked the sliding metal in my bag, then turned my attention to Jenks. “Ready?”

The pixy rose up. “See you at the car.” His wings blurred, and then he was gone, heading across the cemetery at head height, dodging tombstones like a hummingbird on a mission.

Glenn’s lips pressed, and, seeing a coming argument, I warmed. “Jenks is running vanguard for me,” I said, tossing my hair behind my shoulder. “We got it covered.” I have to get to that class. This is really getting old.

“Rachel?”

I halted my motion to leave, turning to arch my eyebrows at him.

“Take it easy,” he said, a hand in the air in surrender. “Call me if you need bail.”

My smile deepened. “Thanks, Glenn,” I said, glad the ugly scene about the focus had been averted. “I’m going to class tonight. Really.”

“Do that,” he said, then turned back to his team, calling for some guy named Parker.

I felt funny walking across the grass between the grave markers to the car, plodding in Jenks’s lightning-fast wake. My steps were small as I trudged up the hill, my head down to look for those flat markers. I swung my bag around and dug for my zebra-striped car key, but when I came around the corner of the large marker my car was behind, I stopped dead in my tracks.

Someone was messing with my backseat.





SIXTEEN


“Hey!” I said belligerently, and the jeans-clad man looked up from where he’d been leaning into the backseat, messing with Glenn’s salsa. It was Tom, and my jaw dropped. “What are you doing?” I came forward, wobbling on one of those flush grave markers.

Tom stepped from the car, and I halted before him, puffing. There was a hint of anger and a lot of disdain in his blue eyes. I was looking into the sun to see him, and it ticked me off.

“I’ve been asked to talk to you,” he said, and I snickered. Now he wants to talk? He was standing before my car, though, and didn’t look like he was going to move without a little encouragement. But when I saw Jenks unconscious on the dash with his dragonfly wings splayed out in the sun, I was more than ready to apply said encouragement.

My pulse leapt, fueled by anger and fear. “What did you do to Jenks?”

The man started at the threat in my voice. Moving back a step, he almost got out of the way. “I didn’t want him to overhear our conversation.”

My stomach clenched in fear. “You knocked him out? You knocked Jenks out to get rid of him?” I took a step forward, and Tom retreated. “You son of a bastard.”

Yeah, I was mixing my phrases, but I was really mad.

Eyes wide in surprise, Tom took another step back.

“He’s a person, you know!” I said, my face hot. “He would have left if you asked.” Worried, I leaned into my car and carefully edged Jenks into my palm before his wings burned from the hot dash. His small body was limp and felt far too light. I remembered him carrying me when I’d been weak from blood loss, and a panicked fear slid through me. Horror joined it when I saw that he was bleeding. “What did you do?” I exclaimed. “He’s bleeding from his ears!”