The Witch with No Name(197)

“You said you couldn’t make it until after sunset,” I said.

Ivy smiled as if knowing something I didn’t as she made kissy noises at Red and petted her soft nose. “Nina told me to leave. Apparently I was fidgeting. Getting the office excited.”

Jenks snorted, and I thanked him when he dropped a pin into my hand.

“Nina keeps them in line better than I do anyway,” Ivy said, eyes wistful. “The old ones don’t like me much. Not like before.”

I can’t imagine why. Ivy and Nina had flipped the vampiric power structure. Not a week went by without a protest or incident, but it was contained within the vampires, living and dead, and the world was content to let them figure it out.

“They just don’t know you like we know you, Ivy,” Jenks said, darting back when Ivy idly threatened to smack him. It was an old game that neither tired of.

“Nina will make the reception, won’t she?” I asked as I went to drop the saddle pad on Red. The music had shifted, both the baying of the dogs and the quintet. I was going to be late. No help for it now.

“She wouldn’t miss it.” Ivy held Red’s head as I placed the saddle, and my lace rustled as I leaned to bring the cinch up. It was good to see Ivy out of the office. Being the head of Cincy’s I.S. had taken her out of the church about the same time I’d given up trying to be two things and moved in with Trent, though to be honest it was the girls’ pouting that moved me more than Trent’s heavy sighs. But all things change, and we both loved our lives.

“I wouldn’t miss it,” Ivy whispered as I leaned into Red for leverage to tighten her cinch. “You deserve this, and I wanted to be here to see it.”

“Yeah, it’s your big day!” Jenks said, wings clattering. “Make-it-or-break-it time!” he said, gyrating wildly. “Time to crap or get off the pot!” he added, and Ivy shot him a look to shut up.

Excuse me? My motion to cinch Red’s saddle hesitated. “I suppose,” I said. I’d miss Ray, but Trent and I had been empty nesters before when both girls had been at school.

“He means this wedding is a big step,” Ivy said, glaring at him. “The demons and the elves formally joined and their war officially ended.”

“It took me forever to convince Dali to help with the vows,” I said, glad the grumpy demon had finally agreed to it, threats and promises aside.

“Tink’s last will and testicles, you should have been there, Ivy,” Jenks said, and Red flicked her ears, threatening to snap if he got any closer. “She laid down the law. Started every other sentence with ‘Look, you,’ and had a list a mile long just to get him to come.”

“You do what you have to do,” I said, smiling. Al had been there, and I swear I’d felt Newt’s laugh in my mind. I was smart enough not to tempt fate with trying to contact the Goddess directly. Newt was gone but not dead, her spirit showing itself when elven magic spun out of control and into something unexpected and not always nice.

“Jenks . . . ,” I protested as he teased Red, but Ivy just smiled and shrugged. Seeing Ivy happy was all I’d ever wanted, and she was happy. What would happen when she died was anyone’s guess, which was probably why Ray was an expert in auratic physics and Lucy had focused on business law with a heavy slant toward vampiric living wills and trusts.

“I still say I should be with the elven emissary and Dali in the woods wearing this rag,” a low, cultured voice with a hint of a British accent said, and I started, not having felt Al pop in. “My God, it still smells like wolf. You’re looking well, Ms. Tamwood.”

Ivy’s eyes slid to Al as the demon brushed at the wolf pelt he wore over his extravagant suit. It almost rivaled Takata’s in marks for “Look at me! I don’t care that you’re staring!” the fabric almost glowing from silver threads and dark dyes.

“And you look ridiculous,” Ivy said, making Jenks snort in agreement.

“It is the required uniform.” But still, he winced as he took off his hat and hunched, pleading with me. “Rachel, love, talk to Ray. Tell her this is undignified. It’s a wolf skin, and not a very big one. She said she’d turn my ears to snakes if I took it off.”

“Then maybe you shouldn’t have taught her that curse,” I said, remembering getting that call at three in the morning. It was the last sleepover Ray had been invited to. Mothers of fourteen-year-olds have no sense of humor.

“She listens to you!” Al protested, and Ivy let go of Red when the horse got a whiff of Brimstone and tossed her head.