Chapter Twenty

Junior's was frighteningly busy, the clientele mostly human at the early hour, stumbling about in search of their first cup of coffee. Either humans appreciated their coffee more than the average Inderlander, or Mark's marketing gamble of claiming to serve coffee that demons crossed the lines for was paying off. I couldn't help but notice that the floor had been repainted with circles and spirals, and I wondered if the lock access to the back door had been changed as well. The talk was loud, and the music cranked decibels higher than normal made my head hurt. I truly sympathized with the rare Inderlander accused of eating humans. They were annoying and obnoxious when they thought no one was listening.

My mood couldn't be entirely blamed on the noise and early hour-seeing as I'd not gotten to sleep until Ivy had come home, and then gotten up at an insane seven in the morning to get here by 7:35 exactly. But if my mood was bad, Ivy had me beat, glowering in the corner of the darkest booth we had been able to snag. The three beatniks bemoaning the unfairness of life and the publishing industry had been taking up the spot when we'd arrived, but after Ivy stood over their table with her grande and bad attitude, they'd packed up their double-spaced pages and red pencils and moved to a sunnier table.

Ivy was better now that most of her drink was inside her and her head was down over the museum blueprints, but if my evening with Felix and Cormel had been disturbing, hers spent getting Nina into a safe house had devolved into terror. As Ivy had expected, Nina had gotten angry at the mere suggestion, and without Felix to steady the overwhelming sensations, clarity of perception, and power that he'd gifted her with, she'd quickly spiraled out of control. Ivy had gotten her to the safe house just in time.

The morning was bright and chill, and Jenks was warming himself on the light fixture. It was just us three, the way I liked it, and I had a suspicion that we were at the very same booth where we had made our agreement to go into business together. I wondered at all the changes in our lives since then. We were all better, weren't we? I wasn't so sure anymore. I'd loved and lost. So had Ivy. So had Jenks. There was good stuff too, wasn't there?

Ivy checked her watch, folded up the map, and shoved it away.

"Is she here?" Jenks asked, his dust an odd light blue edged in gold. I'd never seen that before, and I wondered if his extended life span was giving him a wider repertoire.

Ivy shook her head, casually pulling her coffee to her with long, pale fingers. Silent, she stared out over the patrons at nothing as she tried to put her night in perspective. Her hair was perfectly arranged, and her short jacket made her look like a model. People were eyeing her in envy. She looked like she had everything. Looked was the keyword. Her eyes were red with worry, and fatigue pulled at her like a cur.

"I would rather have done this at night," I said, thinking that the idea to just walk in, grab the rings, and walk out was great if you were fourteen and trying to steal a candy bar, but not twenty-seven and aiming for a piece of irreplaceable elven heritage. Then again, the oldest tricks worked the best.

"Security is impossible at night," she murmured.

"Ana 'eesides, 'ache," Jenks said as he dropped down, his words slurred as he chewed one of the nectar and pollen balls Belle had made for him. "Ee don't 'ave time to plan ah 'eel job. Ou'll 'e great!" He swallowed a chunk. "It's not that much different from legit work. You get busted for doing that, too, half the time."

Resettling my scarf, I eyed him sourly. His cheek was still bulging like a chipmunk's as he furiously chewed. Belle had made his travel food her size, not his, and his kids had had giggling fits this morning when the fairy had gruffly given them to him in a paper sack she had folded herself. Jenks had only said thank you, even as he'd gestured for his kids to leave off. I was proud of him.

"Piece of cake," I whispered, wanting to ask Ivy for the map.

"Easy as pie!" the pixy said, his fingers now sticking to a napkin. Frustrated, he lifted off the table, taking the napkin with him. His dust shifted to an irate red, and Ivy pinned the paper with her index finger. Wings clattering, he drew his sword, and with three frustrated motions, he rose up, a piece of napkin drifting down under him.

"If you two don't relax, I'm going to jump Rachel's jugular," Ivy muttered, and I slumped into my chair, taking my double shot grande, Italian blend, skim milk, shot of raspberry, no foam coffee with me. Al liked whole milk, but I thought it was too rich that way.

"Sorry." It bothered me more than I wanted to admit that we had to steal the stupid rings. Involving an innocent kind of bothered me, too. But as Jenks had said, there hadn't been enough time for Ivy's usual beauty-in-planning. We had to go in dirty and fast. Get in, move to the secure area where the pieces were being held under the cover of a distraction, do a little light-fingered shopping, and leave a pair of fake rings before walking out the front door with what we'd come for. It was that skinflint elf's fault-going back on an arranged . . . arrangement. Trent was still in the ever-after, and it bothered me. A lot.

I fiddled with my cup of coffee, feeling the silence become uncomfortable. "I'm glad you're back," I said, and Ivy's eyes flicked to mine. "It's been quiet."

Her brow furrowed and she looked away. "I'll try not to make so much noise."

Anger flickered and died, and I watched her pupils dilate and return to normal in response. She'd had a difficult night. I could cut her some slack. "I didn't say you were being noisy. I said it's been quiet. I also said I'm glad you're back. I'm sorry you had such a hard night with Nina. Is she going to be okay? Felix was . . ." I hesitated, my anger vanishing as I remembered his hunched shadow, as he stood anguished in my kitchen in a moment of lucidity, his eyes rolling as he looked for me to kill him as a way out of his new hell. "I don't like undead vampires, the way they use people like tissue and discard them, but seeing him broken like that and losing his mind?" I looked up, seeing her own pain. "I feel bad for him."

Ivy's eyes were haunted as she watched her fingers encircle her cup.

"Hey, ah, I'm going to check out the perimeter, okay?" Jenks said, then darted off through the drive-up window, scaring the crap out of the barista managing it. Though the sun was bright this morning, it was too cold for him to be outside long. He'd be back.

Chicken, I thought, but I didn't blame him. Ivy exhaled, still avoiding me. Either she would talk or she wouldn't.

"Maybe I shouldn't have interfered," she said, and I strained to hear her over the noise of "background" music and conversation. Ivy's eyes came up, heartache mirrored in them. "People suffered for me last night, good people. Not just my friends at Piscary's who fed that monster, but the ones at the safe house, too. Nina agreed to this arrangement with Felix. Who am I to try to help her?"

I leaned over the table, and Ivy flinched as my hand covered hers. The cup was long cold, but her fingers were warm. "Nina did not agree to this. She bought into a lie, one coated in power and euphoria. People suffered for her, but they did it knowing it was to help one of their own come back. If Nina can survive, if you can bring her back from where Felix filled her with ecstasy and then dumped her, then there's hope for them. That's why they took your pain. You gave them hope that they might survive, too."

Ivy looked away in guilt, and I remembered the wild abandonment I'd seen time and again at Piscary's under Kisten's management, living vampires going there to lie to themselves that life was good and they had the world on a string. They needed knowing that there was a way out, perhaps more than they knew.

My eyes were warm with unshed tears, and Ivy blinked fast when she pulled her hand out from under mine. She wanted to believe, but it was hard for her to accept others sacrificing for her.

"Keep Nina safe," I said, hiding my hand under the table. A resolve had filled me somewhere between finding Felix in my kitchen and Ivy stumbling home last night crying over someone else's pain. I couldn't let Ivy suffer the hell I'd seen Felix trapped in. I had to find a way to save her soul. I had to.

"Thank you," Ivy whispered, her motion slow as she balled up her ecofriendly napkin. Taking a deep breath, I could almost see her focus on the "now." "It was a rough night. It took six of us to hold her down when the bloodlust hit her. If this goes okay, I'm going to try to be there when she wakes up so she knows I'm . . . okay."

She couldn't look at me, and I wished she wasn't so ashamed of what we had to do to survive. We all fell. What mattered was what we did after that. "Tell Nina for me that she can do this, okay? That it's worth it." That you're worth it.

"I will," she whispered. "Next time I see her. Thank you."

Tears pricked my eyes, but I was smiling and so was she. Nina was strong. She would survive. I never would have thought that Ivy would ever be on the other end of the addiction, and I was proud of her.

Ivy's gaze flicked past me. She didn't move, but something shifted in her, a predator's quiet breath slipped in and out, and I suppressed a shudder. Just that fast, everything changed.

Reaching for a napkin, I pretended to dab my mouth as I turned to the line. "Is that her?" I said, seeing a blonde with her sweater cut low and her spring skirt cut high. She was in a tight jacket, and she seemed to know everyone behind the counter, talking loud and cheerful as she flirted, waiting for her turn.

Ivy was already reaching for her purse. "Yes," she said, standing up and not looking at her. "Five minutes to eight. Right on time."

Jenks dropped down, his wings giving me a bare instant of warning. "She came in in the blue Mustang," he said, still picking napkin from between his fingers. "I think it's new since the cover is open. It's too cold for that unless it's your first convertible. I'll get you the keys, Ivy. You're going to want that top closed."

"Thanks," she said, giving me a soft smile before she turned away and breezed out, coming within inches of the woman.

I stood as the blond woman shivered as if chilled. "Chicken," I berated Jenks as I moved to get in line right behind her.

"You think I'm going to get involved in that heart-to-heart women crap?" he said as he snuggled in behind my scarf. "Hell, no! Aw, she's sweet! You sure we have to lock her in the trunk?"

When I'm done with her, she's going to be more pissed than a cat in a well, I thought as I took a quick step back from her as she ordered. I was afraid if I got too close, I might catch whatever cheerful bug had infected her. It was too early to be that sickeningly bouncy, but I suppose if your job required you to dress as a professional distraction, a happy disposition might be an asset. Right now, she was making me ill on smile overload.

"Holy toad piss," Jenks muttered. "This woman is even bouncier than you after you've got some, Rache."

"Shut up, Jenks."

"I haven't seen you like that in . . . hell, how long has it been?"

"Shut up!" I muttered, tightening my scarf until he called uncle, laughing at me. It had been a while, and even worse, it had been with Pierce. Everyone I had sex with died. Except Marshal, and that had only been because he left in time.

Adrenaline hit me when Ms. Bouncy-Hair finished her transaction, catching my eye as she moved to the pickup counter. She must have heard me telling Jenks to shut up, but being the crazy woman would only help, and I gave her a neutral smile and hitched my shoulder bag higher. Sweet or not, she was our fast and dirty ticket into the museum and behind security doors. I hated locking people in their own trunks. Except for Francis. That had been fun.

I was still wearing my smile as I stepped up to the counter. "Ah, two grandes, black. A skinny chai tea tall, and a vanilla grande with a shot of pumpkin in it if you still have it." I knew they did. The drinks I ordered were was the exact same ones Ms. Bouncy-Hair had ordered, right down to the size. "Oh, and can you put it all in a to-go bag? Thanks."

"Got it," the barista said, never looking up, never noticing it was a duplicate order. Junior would have, and I was glad he wasn't here.

I handed the barista a bill to cover it, turning around to see the blue Mustang in the parking lot, the top still open to the sky. "Thank you," I said around a yawn as he gave me my change. Eight? Was it really eight? Adrenaline or not, this was an insane time to be up. That was humanity's problem right there. They were brain damaged from the early sun.

"Ah, Rache?" Jenks whispered, poking me in the neck, and I jumped, giving the barista a faint smile as I moved down.

I stood just inside most people's personal zone, and sure enough, Ms. Bouncy-Hair noticed, shifting down a smidge. My pulse quickened. I couldn't help it. Maybe I was as bad as Ivy. When the woman's order slid onto the counter in one of those paper trays, I was ready.

"Thanks, Bill!" she called out cheerfully, reaching for it as I leaned in as if going for it too. The woman got there first, her hands full of hot coffee as she turned, smashing right into my upraised hand. It would have gone all over me, but I was the one planning accidents, and with a little flip, it went down her front instead.

"What the fuck!" the woman exclaimed, staggering back with her entire order spilled on the floor. Well, not all of it, and her pink V-neck sweater was now an ugly brown.

"Ooh, mouthy," Jenks said, and I heard him take to the air, wings clattering.

My shock was fake, but it looked real enough. I'd had plenty of practice. "Oh, my gosh!" I exclaimed, standing there with my eyes wide and hands up in the helpless-me position. "I am so-o-o-o sorry!"

The baristas were already moving to mop it up, and she dropped back to the tables and chairs, disgust swamping her. "Bill, can I have another set?" she said, and then muttered at me, "Why don't you watch where you're going," as if embarrassed for the F bomb she'd dropped.

She was on the defensive, and that was fine with me. It didn't make the guilt any less, but it did tend to put it off till later.

"Oh my God, I'm so, so sorry," I said, grabbing napkins like mad and shoving them at her. "Here, let me give you my address," I said, head down and fumbling in my bag as she took them, dabbing at her front until she realized it was useless. Jenks was at the ceiling, and I dumped my bag out to distract her when the napkins hadn't done it. "I've got a card in here somewhere. Send me the bill for your cleaning. Oh, that's got angora in it, doesn't it? I can tell."

"Seriously, it's okay," she said, but she was watching me now, not Jenks in her purse. Hell, everyone was watching me. Ivy and Jenks had helped me stock my bag, and the tampons, diaphragm, jumbo condoms, and fuzzy cuffs that Jenks had picked out were garnering snickers.

"I am such a klutz," I said, snatching up the pen Ivy had given me from a Hollows strip joint. I scribbled the downtown bus depot's address on a matchbook.

"No, really, it's okay," she said, hand up to keep me at arm's length. Her expression was a mix of disgust and contempt. I was a doofus, and everyone could tell.

"Please, just take it," I said, and she finally did just to shut me up. "I must have been half asleep." My order came up in its bag, and the woman realized she was going to have to go home and change. I could see it in her eyes. Behind her in the parking lot, the top was almost closed. "At least let me pay for your drinks!" I said, reaching out as if I was going to take her arm.

She backed off fast. "I already paid for them," she said, bouncy no more. Grimacing, she plucked at her sweater and looked at her watch. "Bill, I gotta go. Forget the coffee."

"Catch you tomorrow, Barbie," one called, and I almost choked. Barbie? Really? Was that legal?

But the car again had a roof. "Wait! Your coffee!" I exclaimed, taking my own bag of duplicate brew and following her.

"Look, it's okay!" the woman said, starting to get angry as she headed for the door. "I have to go home and change. Just forget it, okay? Accidents happen."

I hesitated, a forlorn expression on me as she stormed out. Accidents do happen, especially when you plan for them. The chimes jingled merrily, and my eyes fell to my feet. "Well, I tried!" I said to everyone, then darted back to the counter and shoved everything back in my purse.

Hustling after her, I stiff-armed the door open. She was almost to her car, and she jerked when she saw me. "Really, it's okay!" she said as if knowing I was going to follow. I almost smiled. My gaze slid to the nearby Dumpster, looking for a leprechaun catching a smoke beside it. Today I might risk accepting a free wish.

Jenks dropped down, and I fluffed my scarf as he snuggled in. "Hey, you think it's gotten colder?" I asked him as we click-clacked to her, more to be sure he was watching his temps than any need for conversation.

Jenks tugged the scarf tighter around himself. "Dropped two degrees since this morning. We'll be inside tonight."

Adrenaline flowed, sweet and beautiful. She was standing at her car, fumbling for her missing keys in her cluttered purse. It was so easy to take someone. Really, it was astounding it didn't happen more often. She was so frazzled she didn't even remember the top had been open when she'd gone in.

"Here, take some money!" I said, arm out to her as I came forward. "I owe you for the drinks."

"I said it was okay!" she shouted, clearly pissed. Still no keys in hand, she got in her car, thinking it was safer. The door slammed, and I stood there, tapping on the window. "Leave me the fuck alone!" she shouted, open purse on her lap. "My God, are you trying to pick me up?"

Ivy sat up from the backseat, a pale arm sliding around her neck. "No, we're trying to abduct you," she whispered. "There's a difference. You'd have more fun if we were trying to pick you up."

The woman took a breath to scream, and I tapped on her window, shaking my head.

"I wouldn't," Ivy breathed, her eyes a nice steady brown.

"Yeah!" Jenks shouted through the glass at her as he hovered at her eye level. "It will only get her excited. You won't like her if you get her excited."

"Unlock the door," Ivy demanded, and Barbie fumbled for the lock, scared.

I opened the door, smiling now so she wouldn't be so frightened, but it kind of backfired. "Slide over," I said, gesturing. "Go on. You're skinny. Get in the passenger seat."

"Money?" she said, white-faced. "You want money? I don't have any brimstone. Here, take my purse. Take it!"

"I've already been in your purse," Jenks said from the dash. "You don't have any."

"Just slide over," I said, concerned someone was going to notice me. "Now, Barbie, or I'll turn you into a frog."

Jenks's wings clattered, his dust a happy silver. "She'll do it!" he warned. "I used to be six feet tall."

Ivy rolled her eyes, but the woman awkwardly moved over the console. "You really need to stop making up stupid names for people you come in contact with," the vampire muttered, shifting with her. "It's not respectful."

Mood improved, I flipped the seat to put the bag of coffee on the floor. "That's her real name," I said as I got in, and Ivy winced.

"Sorry."

"Please don't hurt me!" Barbie said, really scared now, and I felt bad as I took the keys Ivy handed over the seat and started up the car with a satisfying rumble.

"Hurting you isn't in the plan," I said as I carefully backed up and put it in drive. "So please don't do anything to change it. All we want is your car for a few hours, and then we will drop you off in downtown Cincinnati with a story that will get you a ghostwritten novel and a movie of the week. Okay?"

Barbie licked her lips. "You're Rachel Morgan, aren't you," she said, eyes wide.

I met Ivy's eyes in the rearview mirror, not sure if I should be flattered or not. Ivy shrugged, and when Jenks snickered, I turned to the woman, smiling my warmest.

"Yep, and you're going to help us save the world. What's your parking spot, Barbie?"