Extraits

Chapter two

The thumps of my feet on the pavement jarred up my spine. Dodging people turning to look, I followed Jenks’s fading dust. My heart seemed to stop when I turned the corner and saw Ivy crumpled in the street. Marsha and Luke were standing looking down at her, dazed. A car stopped even as I watched, and a man got out, white faced, his phone in hand.

“Call 911!” I shouted as I slid to the pavement beside Ivy. Shit. Ivy. She had to be alive. I shouldn’t have left you.

Jenks was a frantic, darting shape as he dusted the blood from a scalp wound. She’d hit her head. Her chest moved shallowly, and her legs were twisted. I was afraid to touch her, and my hands hovered over her, reminding me of Marsha standing over Luke.

Pain charm! I thought frantically as I searched my bag. Fingers fumbling, I dropped the charm over her head. I was putting a Band-Aid on a concussion, but she took a clean breath. “Did you call 911?” I exclaimed as a pair of Meris dress shoes scuffed before us.

“No hospital.”

Her voice was soft, almost not there, and both Jenks and I looked at Ivy. She was pale, and pain pinched her still-closed eyes. That was good, right? She wasn’t unconscious, even if her eyes were closed. Damn it, I should have learned how to make a healing curse! But Al was gone and it was too late.

“Ivy.” I brushed her hair back, my fingers trembling. They came away warm and red, and my fear redoubled. She’d hit her head badly enough that Jenks’s dust wasn’t stopping it. “Ivy!” I called when her eyes didn’t open. More people were ringing us. “Look at me, damn it! Look at me! Can you move your fingers and toes?”

“I think so.”

Her eyes opened as I took her cold hand. The pupils were fully dilated, scaring me. I wasn’t sure if it was from head trauma or my fear. The circle of people around us whispered, and when a smile of satisfaction edged over her pain, panic took me. “Ivy?”

Her hand squeezed mine, and she moved her legs, wincing as she straightened them. She could move, and I remembered how to breathe.

“Marsha and Luke are gone,” Jenks whispered as he hovered by my ear. Like I freaking cared?

She was trying to sit up, and I gingerly helped her as the heat from the stopped car bathed us. “Little fish,” Ivy said, hair coming out of the bun as she held her middle. “They weren’t after them. Oh God, I think I cracked a rib.”

“Don’t move,” I said, stiffening as a siren lifted into the air. “The ambulance is coming.”

“No hospital.” Her black eyes fixed on mine, and she went whiter still as she tried to take a deep breath. “No safe house. I’ve been marked.”

Marked? Her gaze went to the pain charm around her neck, and she gripped it tight, shocking me. She never used my magic. Avoided it. “You need a hospital,” I said, and she hissed in pain as she tried to turn her head.

“No.”

“Ivy, you were hit by a car!” Jenks had dusted her cuts until they were only a slow seep, but her eyes were dilated and she hadn’t taken her other hand off her middle.

“Cormel,” she said softly, hatred temporarily overriding her pain. “I told you Marsha and Luke weren’t worth all of this. I wasn’t supposed to walk out of that apartment alive. That charm was aimed at me, too. He wants me dead . . . so you . . . will figure out how to save the souls of the undead. The car was a last effort to salvage their plan before going back with failure.”

My heart seemed to catch, then it raced as I looked at the surrounding faces for anyone watching too closely—their eyes holding fear. Ivy moaned as she breathed in my alarm, but I couldn’t let go of it. I couldn’t distance myself. The lethal charm had been aimed at all three of them. If I hadn’t been there to break it, Ivy would be dead and I’d be getting a call from the second-rising morgue.

“I don’t want to become a dead thing,” she whispered, then clenched in pain. “Rachel?”

I closed my eyes. Ivy groaned, her pain doubling as my panic pulsed through her, bringing her alive even as she struggled to stave off death. I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t be her scion. But I knew I would if it came to that. Cormel had grown tired of waiting for his soul. If Ivy was dead, me finding out how to return the undead their souls would move way up on my to-do list.

We had to get out of here. Even the safe houses held death, and the hospitals would only make her passing smell of antiseptic. Why had I worked so hard to save their miserable existences? I wondered as I found my bag and looped it over my head. But it hadn’t been just the undead in the balance when I’d freed the mystics last July, it had been the entire source of magic.

Jenks dropped down as I gathered my resolve. “They’re everywhere, Rache,” he whispered, his fear easy to read on his narrow, pinched features, and Ivy nodded. Surrounded by onlookers, we had a small space to breathe, but we couldn’t stay here.

Slowly I began to think. Trent. He had a surgery suite, one that wasn’t staffed by people who could be bought. I wasn’t sure where he was, but I could text him. Ivy was sitting. Maybe she could move. “Ivy,” I said, blanching at the blackness in her eyes when she looked at me from around a stray strand of hair. “Can you move?”

Her boots scraped as she shifted them under her. “If I can’t, I’m dead.”

A few in the crowd protested, but they backed up when Jenks rose, his fast, darting shape and the sharp sword in his grip making him a threat.

My stomach turned when every hold I tried to help Ivy with only brought more pain. Teeth clenched, I tucked my shoulder under her arm and rose, staggering until we found our balance. Ivy’s eyes closed. we hung for a moment, waiting to see if she was going to pass out. In the nearby distance, a siren rose—but it brought death, not life.

“Okay, nice and easy,” I said, and Jenks kept everyone back as we started for the curb. Ivy’s head was down, and she moved in sudden, painful limps. Step, pause. Step, pause. Her weight on me was solid, and her scent was tinged with sour acid. Tears threatened, and I ignored them. I couldn’t live with Ivy if she was dead. I couldn’t be her scion, but I knew I’d do it, even as it would destroy me. I’d try to keep Ivy sane, knowing it was a bitter fallacy. I couldn’t kill her a second time as she would want me to. I was a bad friend.

“I’m sorry,” Ivy said as we reached the curb and she took her hand from her middle long enough to use the lamppost to help her step up.

“This isn’t your fault,” I barked so I wouldn’t cry. “We’ll get you to Trent’s, and you’ll be fine.” His compound was almost deserted since the serious inquiries into his illegal bio labs had begun, but he probably had a surgeon on call.

Seeing her standing to catch her breath, I dug in my bag for my phone. “Can you hold this?” I said, giving her my splat gun, and she held it loosely. My fingers shook as I scrolled for Trent. He was the last person I’d called, and knowing he might not take a call but would always check a text, I wrote 911 and Eden Park and hit send. My stomach was twisting as I tucked my phone in my back pocket. It was all I could do. But we couldn’t stay here. Each moment seemed to weigh more heavily on Ivy. She was slipping, and her living vampire endurance would mean nothing if she gave up.

“You can’t go to the car, Rache.” Jenks hovered before us, watching us and our backs both. “They’ll run you down.”

Shit. He was right. Tears of frustration pricked, and Ivy leaned against the lamppost. Behind her, people were turning away, leaving us to die.

“Where else can I go, Jenks!” I shouted, frustrated. “Nowhere on earth is safe from them!”

He shrugged, even as his dust grew dismal, but behind him was Eden Park, and a flash of hope lit through me. Ivy sensed it, and her eyes opened, glazed with pain.

“The park.” I wiggled under her again, and we staggered into motion. “Ivy, hold on.”

“The park!” Jenks echoed in disbelief, and then he nodded, rising up to fly five feet over us where he could keep watch.

The park. There was a ley line in it, thin and broken, but it was there. I couldn’t jump the lines without Bis. He wouldn’t be awake until the sun went down, but I could shift realities if I was standing in a line. The ever-after was a poor choice, but no one could follow us there, and maybe we could walk to the church’s ley line and pop back into reality.

Ivy stumbled as we found the grass, and we almost went down. Her moan sounded almost like pleasure. Old toxins were being pulled from her tissues to cope with the pain as her body struggled to stay alive. But this time it wasn’t a master satisfying his blood urge that was killing her, and her breath quickened as she took in my fear and kindled her own long- suppressed desires.

“Almost there,” I panted, struggling under her weight as I scanned the open grass between us and the footbridge. It was exposed, but they probably wouldn’t shoot her and risk hitting me by accident. Cormel needed me alive and Ivy dead. They only had to wait.

This was partly my fault, and I felt the helpless tears trying to start as I took more of Ivy’s weight. There was no way to bind a vampire’s soul to their body once they died, and as we slowly limped across the green space to Twin Lakes Bridge and the broken ley line, a warm tear ran a trail down my cheek.

“Don’t cry,” Ivy slurred. “It’s going to be okay.”

I wiped my eyes between our lurching steps, my stomach roiling. “Almost there.”

Jenks dropped down, worry pinching his features. “Her aura isn’t looking good, Rache.”

“I know!” I shouted. “I know,” I said again, softer.

“It hurts,” Ivy said as I took even more of her weight. “It’s not supposed to hurt, is it?”

Oh God. I knew the pain amulet was outclassed, but that the damage was too much for even the vampire toxins to mutate was scary. “Almost there. Hold on,” I whispered, eyes fixed on the statue of Romulus and Remus. “You can rest when we get to the line.”

But I didn’t think we were going to make it, especially when Jenks’s dust went an angry red. “There’re two blood bags on the footbridge,” he snarled, his blade catching the light. “Keep going. Don’t stop no matter what you hear. I’ll take care of them.”

“Jenks!” I cried out as he darted away. Beside me, Ivy wheezed. Her fingers rose to touch her mouth, coming away red with blood. Immediately she curled her fingers up in a ball to hide it, but a flash of fear lit through me. Internal bleeding. My gun, too, was gone, left behind somewhere on the summer-burnt grass.

“Almost there,” I said again as we moved another few feet, but inside, I was despairing. There were no hospitals in the ever-after, only demons who didn’t care. I didn’t think we’d make it all the way to the church. If Trent didn’t show, I might have just killed Ivy by trying to save her.

Ivy’s breath became labored, and the sudden shouting at the bridge yanked my attention up. With a quick flurry of motion, a woman swung wildly at Jenks, falling down the embankment and into the water, harried down the entire way by the pixy. Suddenly she was screaming as Sharps, the resident bridge troll, rose up, swamping her.

Without a second look, the other vampire continued toward us, leaving her to sort herself out. He was vampire-child beautiful, graceful and sure of himself—and when he looked at me, I shuddered.

Jenks darted in and away, distracting him.

“Move faster, Ivy,” I begged, knowing Jenks couldn’t hold off a determined vampire. Eyeing the statue of Romulus and Remus, I brought up my second sight. A faint haze, ill looking and sporadic, hung at chest height. It was Al’s line, half dead because of the shallow pond someone had dug out under it, but unable to die because the other half of it lay in the dry, desolate ever-after. It reminded me of the demon himself, having given up on life but clinging so tightly to the memory of a love he had once had that now he couldn’t live or die.

He would never help me. Not now. And an old guilt pulled my brow even tighter.

From the water came a gurgling scream as the woman fought to be free of Sharps. Ivy moaned and I dropped my second sight. My eyes jerked to the controlled anger and grace striding toward us despite Jenks’s darting flight and bloodied blade. The vampire knew the line was there and was trying to cut us off.

Crap on toast. I wasn’t going to make it. I’d have to beat him off.

Ivy hung on my shoulder as I came to a heart-pounding halt, her head down and her breathing frighteningly raspy. A lousy twenty feet was between me and the line, and the suave man smiled when he rocked to a silent stand before us. He was the expected eight feet back, his hair moving in the light breeze as he assessed my determination, feeding off my fear even as I found a firmer stance. Eight feet. He’d fought magic users before. It was just far enough that he could dodge anything I might throw at him.

Fine. He was between me and the line, but I could still pull on it, and I allowed the line’s energy to funnel down to my hand and gathered it in a tight ball of frustration. He was stunning in his black suit, but it was more than his sculpted, carefully bred-for beauty. It was his attitude of a complete and utter lack of fear. He was wearing sunglasses, and an old scar on his neck said he was someone’s favorite. Behind him, the woman screamed at both Jenks and Sharps as she tried to get out of the water.

“Morgan,” the living vampire said, his voice holding layers of emotion, and Ivy stirred, drawn awake by either the screams at the lake or the pull in his voice.

“Go to hell!” Ivy managed, and Jenks joined me. Together we faced him, my knees shaking and Jenks’s wings clattering in threat.

The man’s eyes flicked to Ivy, then back to me. “Give it up.”

Not happening, and I found a better grip on Ivy, my bellyful of ever-after waiting for direction. “Come and get me,” I mocked, trying to lure him a foot closer.

“You’re not who I’m interested in. She’s almost dead. All I have to do is wait.”

Son of a bastard . . . This wasn’t the original team sent to kill Ivy. It was probably the one sent to collect her body, and they’d be eager for the extra kudos killing her would bring them. Behind me, a car door slammed. I didn’t dare look, but from the edge of my sight, three more men in suits started across the grass. Damn it, I couldn’t fight off four of them and protect Ivy, too, even with Jenks.

The living vampire’s beautiful brown eyes went black as he breathed in my fear. “Let us finish the job, or we beat you up and we finish the job anyway. She’s dying her first death before the sun goes down.”

“Over my dead body.” The sun was nearing the horizon, but there were hours left in its path.

“And my broken wings,” Jenks added, dusting Ivy’s scalp again as blood began to mat her hair.

They were almost to us. I had to do something, his being out of range or not. I thought of Trent. Had he gotten my text? Was he on his way?

“Dead?” the vampire said, recapturing my attention. “No, he wants you alive. For now.”

My frustration rose. The hazy read smear of the ley line was just behind him. Twenty lousy feet. “It can’t be done!” I shouted, Jenks’s dust tingling against my skin. “Tell Cormel it can’t be done!”

“Then you owe him for the year he’s kept you both safe,” the man said. “Watching you suffer Ivy’s second life will do.”

“I already saved him once! I’m not paying the same debt twice.”

The man chuckled, motioning for the arriving thugs to circle us. I could smell them, the rising scent of vampire incense bringing Ivy’s eyes open and a new tension to her face. “You prolonged his misery is all.”

He gestured, and I moved, throwing a single burst of energy at the beautiful man before turning my attention inward. “Rhombus!” I shouted, relief a slap when Jenks, contrary to his instinct, dropped down, safe inside my circle.

The rushing vampires skidded to a halt, stymied. Before me, my black-and-gold fist-size unfocused magic slammed into the head vampire, throwing him back four feet to hit the ground hard.

Nothing could get through my barrier unless it held my aura: not bullet, not vampire, not demon—unless he was very determined and I’d left an opening. But we were trapped in it, trapped twenty feet from safety. Damn it! This was so not fair. Every other demon could shift their aura to slip into a line, but I couldn’t jump on my own, couldn’t jump a lousy twenty feet. The line was so close I could almost feel it humming.

Dazed, the vampire found his feet, his beauty ruined by his snarl. “She’s going to die in there!” he shouted, stalking forward to halt so close the barrier hummed a warning and I could see the first wrinkles about his eyes. “She’s going to die, and then she will fall on you!”

Ivy stared up at me, clearly in pain, clearly feeling the pinch of instincts and desires she had lied to herself were under control. Tears filled her black eyes, and she reached out, her hand shaking as it found mine. “I’m sorry,” she said, and anger filled me that they had brought her to this. “Please don’t let me wake as the undead. I won’t remember why I love you. Promise me. Promise me you won’t let me wake as an undead.”

My throat closed, and as Jenks’s dust sifted red between us, I dropped down, my arms going around her. She wanted me to kill her if she should die. I couldn’t do it. “I promise.”

“Liar.” She smiled at me, hand shaking as she touched my cheek.

Panic renewed, and I felt unreal, dizzy as I looked at the vampires ringing us in the late afternoon. There was no one to help me. I had to find a way.

“She won’t last an hour,” the beautiful man said, anticipation making his eyes black. “She will wake undead. You will fix her soul to her, or die at her own hands.”

Ivy shook, and I let her go, resolve filling me as I stood until the shimmer of my circle hummed just over my head. “Jenks, I need you to do something,” I said, and his face went white.

“I’m not leaving you, Rache.”

I eyed the twenty feet and four vampires that separated us from the line. “I’m going to kick some vampire ass and get to that line. Ivy and I can wait in the ever-after.”

“With the surface demons?” Jenks barked, his wings clattering harshly.

I had no choice. “Go try to wake Bis up. He can jump us to Trent’s.” I looked at the pixy, seeing his fear in his tight, angular face. He didn’t want to leave us, was terrified we would die without him. He was probably right.

“No!” His wings clattered as he understood what I was saying. “It’s hours until sunset. Don’t ask me to leave you!”

I dropped down to grab Ivy’s elbow to help her stand up. “I’m sorry, Ivy. You have to help me get you to the line.”

“But she can hardly walk!”

“Which means she still can!” I shouted, and Ivy clutched at me, halfway to a stand and heavy in my grip. “Jenks, please,” I said softly, and he hovered, helpless and angry, before us. “I can’t jump on my own and Bis can’t find me. You have to tell him where we are.”

Slowly his expression shifted from anger to a frustrated understanding. “Keep her alive,” he said, and I nodded, again making promises I couldn’t keep.

Scared, I turned to the vampires watching suspiciously. Behind them, Cincinnati drowsed in the late afternoon sun. Al could have jumped us right to Trent’s, or the hospital, or the church. But I wasn’t one of them any longer. The break with the demons had been clean—even if the jagged edges of it still dug into my soul in the quiet parts of the night.

Breath held against the pain, Ivy got her weight over her feet and wavered to a rise. I felt her clench in agony as she fought to keep from coughing, her grip on me hurting. She took one breath, then another. Head up, she stared at the men ringing us. At the bridge, the woman finally got out of the water, dripping and bleeding from scratches and with a malevolent gleam in her eye. Five now.

I sucked in the line energy, feeling it hiccup and stutter. Does Al know I’m using his line? I wondered, feeling Al’s utter abandonment of me again—jealousy, heartache, and hatred too much for him to forgive.

“Let me go, Ivy. I have to fight,” I whispered, and after the briefest of hesitations, she did, her eyes closing as she uncrimped her fingers from around my arm. I could tell it had taken all her resolve, and she swallowed her saliva back, refusing to give in to her instincts—but instincts die last and hard.

“I like it when you say my name,” she said as her eyes opened. “It doesn’t hurt anymore.”

Shit. This wasn’t good. not good at all. “I’m glad,” I whispered, wishing my knees weren’t shaking. “I’m going to have to kick some ass. Can you get to the statue on your own? Maybe critique me when it’s over?”

“Over a beer,” she said. Her hand wasn’t so tight against her middle. I didn’t know a charm for this. I had nothing.

Ivy slowly lost her balance and leaned into me again, unable to stand on her own. She wasn’t going to make it, no matter what happened, and I shoved my panic down deep. “Thank you, Jenks,” I whispered.

His wings clattered, and he wouldn’t look at me, that same black dust sifting from him to make my skin tingle. I held Ivy close, the chill of her pressing into me as her head hung down and her breathing grew shallow. She was almost passing out. Slowly I lifted my chin and found the eyes of the waiting vampire.

“You first,” I said, yanking a wad of ever-after into me. My breath came in with a sharp sound. Ivy stiffened in my grip, and I wondered if she felt it as I pulled everything I could handle into me. “Jenks, grab something!” I shouted as the building energy crested, lapped the top of my abilities, and with a spasm that seemed to shake me to my core, edged into pain as I took even more. I had to take it all. All.

“Rache!” Jenks shrilled, tugging on my hair as he wound himself up in it. “What are you doing!”

I had one shot, and I wasn’t going to waste it, even if it burned my synapses to a twisted mass. “Corrumpto!” I shouted, letting the energy explode from me.

My knees buckled. I felt airy, light and unreal. The line hummed through me, smelling of ozone and stardust. A soundless wave sped out, flattening the grass and bowling the vampires head over heels, making them look like crows. Ivy shuddered, her eyes opening black and deep. Together we straightened as a distant bell rang, and then another. Across the river, the basilica’s bells tolled, and tears threatened when I recognized my own church bells ringing an echo to the force of my blast.

My skin was tingling, and I almost went down as Ivy’s weight suddenly became my responsibility. “Ivy!” I called, bringing up my second sight and looking for the ley line. The vampires were down. We had to move. “Come on! Just a few steps!”

But then panic took me, not that the head vampire was getting up off the pavement, but that the ley line was gone! It wasn’t running where it should, through the man-made ponds and beside the statue the vampire was leaning heavily against.

“Where is it!” I shouted, and Ivy sagged in my grip. Bewildered, and head humming as if it held a hive of bees, I strengthened my second sight until reality wavered under a broken landscape of dust, cracked rock, and bloated sun hazing an empty landscape and dry riverbed. The desolation of the ever-after was complete, and the gritty wind lifted through my hair even though I still stood in reality. But there was no line. What have I done?

Jenks hovered before me, blinking in shock. “You’re in it,” he said, a weird greenish dust sifting from him. “How did you move it, Rache?”

My mouth dropped open, and I spun, shocked. I moved the line? How? “Get her!” the vampire screamed, and the present rushed back.

“Rhombus!” I shouted, staggering under Ivy’s weight as my circle sprang up heady and thick since I was standing right in the middle of the line. I’d moved it? How? I had only tapped it. But Jenks was right. I was standing in Al’s flimsy line, and it was growing stronger, no longer dampened and drained by the ponds. I’d shifted it. I had moved it to me.

The vampires slid to a halt, one of them screaming as he touched the circle and a snap of energy struck him like lightning. We were in the line. Ivy was with me. I looked past the angry vampires, knowing the line had been behind them, knowing it couldn’t be moved. But it had.

And somehow, I didn’t care that I’d done the impossible.

“Sorry about the beating,” I said as I melded my aura around Ivy’s to shift her with me to the ever-after.

“Beating?” The vampire leaned closer, not knowing what had happened. “That wasn’t a beating.”

I tightened my hold on the line, feeling it start to take us. “No, the one your master is going to give you.” Thank you, Jenks. I will keep her alive.

The man’s eyes became round, fear shimmering his motion for the first time, making him somehow more captivating with the contrasting shadows of fear and power. We’d bested him, and he was going to be punished.

“No!” he shouted as I shifted my aura and the world moved around us. The red of sunset became the harsh red of the ever-after sun. His howling cry of denial evolved, peaked, and became the scream of the gritty wind. The image of his crooked fingers reaching for us dissolved, and I saw it mirrored in the broken rock surrounding us. The sound of Jenks’s wings was gone. We were alone and the world was broken—just like me.

My heart thumped and I shifted Ivy’s weight until she hissed in pain. I squinted at the distant, red-smeared horizon, then brought my eyes closer, sending it over the remains of the Hollows, already in shadow. The spires of the basilica rose over it all, the bastion carefully preserved where most everything was left to crumble. The space where my church would have been was nothing but rock and grass. My idea to walk to it crumbled. Ivy was done.

“You can rest now,” I whispered. “It’s going to be okay.” Heart aching, I eased her down against a boulder, and she gripped my arm, refusing to let go. My eyes shot to hers, and the utter blackness in them stitched all my fears into one smothering black piece. I couldn’t kill her to prevent her undead existence. If Bis didn’t find us in time . . . I . . . I didn’t know.

My throat was tight as I sat beside her and pulled her head to rest against me. She could move no farther, and this was as good a place as any, better than some. Whatever happened, we would face it together, away from the filth she’d struggled her entire life to escape.

Chapitre 1:

Neck craned, I squinted up between the shadowed apartments. High in the sun, dragonflylike wings threw back the glow with the transparent sheen of glittery tissue paper. The sporadic traffic at the end of the alley was enough to cover the sound of Jenks’s wings, but I could hear them in my memory as the pixy hovered before a pollution-grimed window.

The moist-dirt smell of damp pavement was a hint under the light but growing scent of frightened vampire coming from near my elbow. I doubted Marsha was having second thoughts, but disobeying your master vampire could have lethal consequences.

Still watching Jenks, I surreptitiously edged away from Marsha’s tense, middle-class office professionalism. Her heels were this year’s style, but she wouldn’t be able to run in them. Her hair was a luscious handful that spilled over her shoulders in an ebony wave—again, it made her an easy target in a close fight. A curvaceous figure sealed the deal that she was beautiful. But as a living vampire, it went without saying that her looks had been selected for over the last two generations, and not for Luke’s benefit, the man she’d unfortunately fallen in love with. But she knew she was vulnerable. That’s why Ivy, Jenks, and I were here.

My neck was getting a crick, and I dropped my gaze to the passing cars, confident that distance and recycling bins would hide us from casual sight. A tight hum jerked my attention back in time to see Jenks dart from a winged shadow. A blue jay squawked, and the tips of five feathers spiraled down between the buildings. Flapping wildly, the sheared bird managed to get across the street before thumping to the sidewalk.

Having already dismissed the bird, Jenks cupped his hands around his face and peered through the window. His skintight, thief-black tights and knit shirt helped him blend into the shadows, and the red cap was to tell rival pixies that he wasn’t there poaching, a real issue this close to Eden Park. So far, no one had bothered him, but birds were a constant threat.

“I shouldn’t have to do this,” the woman at my elbow complained, oblivious that a third of the team here to keep her alive had just had a narrow miss. “It’s my apartment!”

I took a slow breath when Jenks lifted the flap to the bathroom vent and vanished inside. “You want to risk running into Luke?” I said, and she made a sound of frustration. Yes, she did, but to do so would mean her death.

A lingering sensation that something was off dogged me, despite—or perhaps because of—the ease of the run so far. Restless, I resettled my shoulder bag. I wasn’t a slouch when it came to looks, but next to this woman’s structured beauty, my frizzy red hair and low-heel boots fell flat.

Ivy’s confident steps against the hush of the side-street traffic tightened my gut. The vampire next to me stiffened at my increased pulse, and I gave Marsha a look to pull herself together. “Stay here,” I said, not liking that Jenks was still inside. “Jenks will tell you when you can come in.” Hiking my shoulder bag higher, I headed for the sidewalk.

“The hell I will,” Marsha said then stepped as if to follow.

Spinning, I shoved her shoulder, sending her thumping back against the wall. Shocked, the woman stared, not a hint of anger thanks to a lifetime of conditioning. “The hell you will,” I said. “Stay here until Jenks says you can move, or we turn around and walk. Right here. Right now.”

Only now did her anger show, her pupils widening and the scent of angry vampire prickling my nose. Wanting to nip this show of dominance, I stretched my awareness out and tapped the nearest ley line. Energy flowed in, making the tips of my hair float as it spooled in my chi. My skin tingled, and I leaned into her space, proving I wasn’t scared of her little fangs or her greater strength. “You’re under a conditional death threat, sweetheart,” I breathed. “Once I verify that Luke isn’t in there, you can come get what you want. But if all you’re looking for is a way to die that doesn’t invalidate your life insurance, do it on your own time.”

Sullen, Marsha dropped her eyes, the rim of blue around her pupils returning to normal.

I rocked back, thumbs in my pockets, satisfied that she’d wait. It was unusual for a vampire to listen to anyone outside their camarilla, but she had come to us. Nodding, I looked up and made a sharp whistle. Immediately, Jenks peeked out of the bathroom vent and gave me a thumbs-up. “Park it,” I muttered, and the woman shrank against the Dumpster and out of sight.

Appeased, I started for the front entrance. The run had sounded simple enough when Ivy had brought it up over grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup last night. Helping a woman get her things out of her apartment was a no-brainer—until she told me the separation was being forced by two rival vampire camarillas and if Luke and Marsha didn’t comply someone was going to end up dead. No way was Ivy going to do this one alone.

This was doing nothing to bolster my already low opinion of the undead vampires, the masters who manipulated everyone and everything in their decade-long games. Once they noticed you, the only way to avoid being a victim was to die and become a player yourself.

But not Ivy, I thought as I emerged from the alley and she angled toward me. I wouldn’t let that happen to her. Unfortunately, the harder you squirmed, the more they squeezed.

Ivy’s pace hid a thread of tension I never would’ve noticed if I hadn’t been sharing living space with her for the past three years. Sleek in her black slacks and top, she strode forward with her arms free and swinging. Her long black hair was up in a hard-to-grab bun, and even from here I could see the rim of brown around her eyes was nice and steady. She jumped at the distant sound of a door closing two streets over, though. She’d noticed something was off, too.

Her shoulders eased as she fell in beside me, and we took the steps up to the front common door together. “Luke’s car is still in the lot,” she said as I pulled the door open and we walked into the foyer of the old apartment building as if we belonged. “By the smell of it, it’s not been run for two days.”

“So he’s doing what he’s been told and is still alive.” I glanced up at the camera. Jenks had been through the common areas, and according to him, they were fake. The scuffed tile floor was dirty in the corners, and I leaned against the stairway as Ivy leafed through Marsha’s mail, pulling out everything she might want before putting the rest back in.

“They won’t let one of them die without killing the other,” Ivy said as she made keep and toss piles. “Otherwise the dead will claim the living as his or her scion.”

Which wouldn’t do at all, I thought, looking up the dimly lit stairwell. It reminded me a little of my first place. “I don’t like this.”

A rare smile came over Ivy, and the letter box snapped shut with a click. “You worry too much. These two aren’t that important.”

My eyebrows rose. Despite my comments, Marsha was gorgeous. It would be hard for a master to let that much beauty go. “Worry? I only worry about you. I don’t like this run.”

Ivy handed me Marsha’s mail, and I tucked it in my bag. “You just don’t like the undead,” she said, and I pulled my splat gun out and checked the hopper.

“Golly, I can’t imagine why.”

Making a soft sound of agreement, Ivy started up the stairs. I knew she wasn’t interested in the mail, but it had given us a chance to stand at the foot of the stairs while she breathed the air and decided if anyone was waiting for us on the way up—Jenks’s assurance or not. “Relax,” she said as I fell into place behind her. “They agreed to not see each other. We go in, get her stuff, get out. End of story.”

“Then why did you ask me to come with you?” I said, rounding the first landing.

Not looking back, she whispered, “Because I don’t trust them.”

Me either. The door downstairs clicked open, and I spun. My hold on the ley line zinged through me, but it was just Jenks and Marsha. I put a finger to my lips, and she closed the door behind her to seal out the shush of cars. Even three stories up, I could see a new, healthy fear in her. Maybe Jenks had talked to her.

The pixy’s wings were a soft hum as he rose straight up in less than a second. “We’re clear,” he said, the silver dust slipping from him making a temporary sunbeam on my shoulder.

Clear, sure, but he couldn’t detect charms unless they were active. “Keep her in the hall till I say,” I asked. “And let me know if anyone pulls up.”

Jenks nodded, dropping down to where Marsha was trying to creep up the stairs without her heels clicking. Ivy was waiting for me at the end of the hall, and I closed the gap quickly, eyeing the new detector charms on my bracelet. It had been a pain in the ass to make them that small, but if they were on my bracelet, I could watch them and point my gun at the same time. The wooden apple detected lethal spells, and the copper clover would glow in the presence of a strong charm. The two were not always synonymous.

Ivy was starting to smell really good, a mix of vampire incense and leather. I tried to ignore it as I gripped my splat gun tighter, amulets clinking. Marsha’s front door had a corkboard for leaving notes, decorated with flowers and a smiley face with fangs. I could hear the woman’s heels scrape on the stairwell, and I grimaced. It was noon, a time when most day walkers would be at work and the night walkers safely underground—but there were ways around that.

The amulets were a nice steady green and I nodded, splat gun level as I crouched opposite the door’s hinges. Ivy worked the key and pushed it open to stand in the opening. Jenks flew in, confident that his first look was sufficient, but I listened as Ivy tasted the air, running it through her incredibly complex brain. “Hi, honey. I’m home,” she said, and I followed her in.

I had to walk right through Ivy’s scent, and even with my breath held, I shivered at the touch of pheromones she was kicking out—wafting over my skin like the memory of black silk. Though still sharing our investigation firm’s letterhead, she’d been pulling away from me the last six months or so. I had a good idea why, and though I was happy for her, I missed working with her on a more daily basis. My old vampire bite tingled at the obvious aroma of amorous vampires that permeated the one-bedroom, open-floor-plan apartment. Or maybe I just missed the intoxicating mix of sexual thrill and heart-pounding adrenaline she pumped into the air when she got tense.

Frowning at my own shallowness, I looked over the small, plush, well-decorated sunlit apartment and the evidence of their love. I knew what it was like having people tell you who not to fall in love with and my thoughts pinged on Trent before spinning away.

“Stay there,” I said to Marsha, now at the door. My amulets were a nice steady green, but I was only five feet into the place. “There could be person-specific spells.”

Person-specific spells: a nice way of saying a bullet with your name on it—and Jenks couldn’t detect them. They were a necessity when making lethal, illegal charms. Vampire politics would keep the hit quiet, but if the spell took out an innocent, they’d track down and jail the black witch who’d made the lethal charm.

Senses searching, I did a quick walk through the living room before checking out the small kitchen. Ivy was in the bedroom, and I slowed, eyes on the amulet. It was easier to hide stuff among the gleaming metal and new appliances, but if there was anything here, it’d show.

“Hey!” Ivy exclaimed, muffled from the walls. My head snapped up and I lurched to get in front of Marsha. Shit, I’d been right.

“Jenks!” Ivy shouted, exasperated this time. “Why didn’t you tell us about the dog?”

I slid to a stop, peeved as Jenks dusted an embarrassed red. Marsha had come in, eyes alight, and I waved for her to stay where she was.

“Sor-r-r-rry!” Jenks said as the jingle of a dog collar became obvious. “It’s just a dog.”

No one had been here for two days? The place smelled like candles, not dog crap.

“Buddy!” Marsha called out, exuberant as she pushed around me to drop to her knees, and I eyed the small, scruffy, pound puppy that timidly walked, not trotted, into the living room. “Come here, baby! You must be starving. I thought Luke had you!”

My eyes narrowed. I’d never had a dog, but I knew they generally underwent the throes of delight when their owners came back after checking the mail, much less two days. “Ah, Marsha?” I said as the dog took a hesitant step in, his tail just hanging there.

“I think we’re good,” Ivy said as she came out of the back room. “You want to sweep it with your charms?”

“Sure,” I said slowly, something ringing false.

“Buddy?” Marsha called again, and the dog gave me a sideways look as he passed me, a mix of excitement and hesitancy I wouldn’t expect from an animal.

At my wrist, an amulet flashed red. “Shit, it’s the dog!” I shouted. Marsha looked up, her beautiful little mouth in an o of surprise. Her hands were outstretched and the dog was almost to her. I’d never get there in time.

“Rhombus!” I exclaimed as I pulled on the ley line, feeling it scream into me, harsh from my demand. The energy pooled and overflowed, and I shoved it out again, my word tapping into a hard-won series of mental handsprings that harnessed the energy into a molecule-thin barrier. It took the easiest form—a sphere with me in the center—and the dog predictably ran into it. But instead of the expected yip of surprise, the energy levels spiked.

It was the only warning I got, and I cowered as a bright flash of energy exploded inside my circle, coming from the dog! The loosed power reverberated, making my circle chime like a sour bell, and I froze, skin crawling as the illegal death spell flooded over me, then fell back into the dog when it didn’t find its intended victim. “Buddy!” Marsha screamed as Ivy shoved her into the wall, covering her with her body.

“Get her out of here!” I shouted, afraid to move. The spell had been invoked, but it hadn’t fastened on its intended victim. It was a loose cannon, and it was trapped in here with me.

“That’s my dog!” the woman protested, wild with fear as Ivy manhandled her into the hallway. “Buddy! Buddy!”

Slowly I realized I was unhurt. Buddy, though . . . wincing, I looked at the dog, prostrate and beginning to shake. He wasn’t dead, and he wasn’t a dog. It was her boyfriend, Luke.

I hate vampires, I thought, realizing what had happened. Someone had turned Luke into a doppelganger of their dog and tacked a secondary spell on to him that would kill them both when Marsha touched him. Luke was halfway gone, but until the spell found Marsha, it wouldn’t invoke fully. I had a chance.

“Marsha!” I stood, carefully watching the energy flow as I broke my own circle. “Where do you keep your salt!”

“Stay put,” Ivy snarled. “Tell me.”

“In the cupboard beside the stove!” the woman sobbed from the hallway. “What happened? Buddy? Buddy!”

I ran to the kitchen and snapped on the faucet. “It’s not your dog, it’s your boyfriend.”

Maybe that had been a mistake since the woman totally freaked out. “Luke!” she screamed. “Oh God, Luke!”

“Stay in the hall!” Ivy shouted, and the sounds of a struggle grew louder.

Salt, salt . . . I thought, pulse fast as I found a mixing bowl and dropped it into the sink. “Don’t let her touch him! If she touches him, they both die!”

“Luke!” the woman sobbed, and I triumphantly found the salt. I wedged a nail under the spout and ripped it right out. Hands shaking, I shook it into the mixing bowl.

“Is he going to be okay?” Jenks asked, his dust pooling on the surface to run like mercury, but I didn’t know.

“Oh God. Hurry!” Marsha begged, and I gave the saltwater a quick stir, tasting it before I picked up the bowl. The woman was hovering over the dog, terrified. My heart went out to her. Vampire masters were sons of bitches. Every last one of them. “Help him!” she screamed, her perfect face twisted in terror. Ivy held her, and I moved fast, bowl of saltwater before me.

“Stay back,” I warned as I stood over the little white dog and dumped it. Water splashed, and Marsha backed up, white faced and breathless. I had no idea if the entire concentration was optimum for breaking earth charms, but there’d be enough to not just turn him human, but to break the lethal charm as well.

As expected, the dog vanished behind a thick puff of brown-and-blue aura-tainted energy. “Luke!” Marsha screamed, and Jenks frowned at her. He’d seen enough spells break to know this was normal. I backed up, tense as the cloud grew to man size. Slowly the mist broke up to show a naked, bruised, and beaten man huddled on the soggy white carpet.

Luke took a sobbing gasp of air. He was going to make it—for now, and I eased back to sit on the edge of the cushy couch, elbows on my knees and head dropped into my hands. The amulets on my bracelet clinked, and I sighed. The saltwater had ruined them. I’d tack it on to Marsha’s bill, but I didn’t think she had the money. Besides, she was going to be a little busy trying to survive.

“You can touch him now,” I said, realizing that Marsha was still hovering over him.

Frantic, she dropped to her knees. Water squished from the carpet, and she pulled him to her. “Oh, baby!” she gushed, oblivious that he was covered in saltwater. “Did he hurt you?”

By the bruises, clearly someone—probably his own master—had, but he raised a shaky hand and brushed her cheek. “I’m okay,” he rasped, a flash of ugly memory finding me at the sight of him, his black hair plastered to his face and his eyes not quite open. It hurt like the devil to shift with earth magic, but his toned, athletic, and beaten body covered in easily hidden scars looked as if it was used to pain.

Crying, Marsha cradled his head to herself and rocked him. I wondered how many scars were hidden behind Marsha’s expensive clothes. This sucked. Vampires looked as if they had everything, but it was a lie. My eyes shifted to Ivy, seeing her inner struggle. A big fat ugly lie.

The clatter of Jenks’s wings was a short warning as he landed on my shoulder. “He looked like a dog to me,” he grumped.

“That’s because he was one.” I plucked at my wet shirt, sticking uncomfortably to me. The question wasn’t how, but why. Why had two minor vampire camarillas spent this much on a double-whammy spell like this on a simple Romeo and Juliet? it was expens-s-s-sive.

Ivy was in the hall to convince the neighbors nothing was going on. It didn’t take much. Clearly they were familiar with the situation. Not happy, Ivy shut the door and stomped into the kitchen to turn the faucet off.

“I’m sorry, Marsha,” Luke was saying, and the crying woman stretched for a blanket to cover him. “When they told me I couldn’t see you again, I went to a witch. She said she could turn me into a dog so I could be with you. No one would know it was me.”

I watched as Ivy pulled the living room blinds. Her expression was empty, hearing far past what the man was saying. Closing the last, she sat across from me in the shadow light, worried.

“I didn’t care if I was a dog,” Luke continued, his eyes still not open as his hand gripped hers. “I knew you wouldn’t leave Buddy.” His eyes opened, and I stared. They were the clearest shade of blue I’d ever seen. “I love you, Marsha. I’d do anything for you. Anything!” Crying, he pulled himself into a ball in her arms. “I’m so sorry.”

My God, they’d tricked him into buying the charm that would’ve killed them both. Ivy and I exchanged a worried look. This was bad, but we couldn’t just walk away. Jenks, too, was looking ill, and he moved to the decorative bowl of pinecones on the coffee table. He’d loved and lost more than Ivy and I combined, and this wasn’t sitting well with him either. But it wasn’t one master vampire we’d have to outwit, but two.

Ivy was still silent, and I sourly thought of my bank account. “You think we should help them?” I said softly, and Jenks’s dust shifted to a hopeful yellowish pink.

Ivy didn’t look at me. The couple on the floor was silent.

“You think we should help them,” I said again, this time making it a statement.

Ivy’s eyes flicked up. I could see her tremendous need to give, to make it right. She’d done so much wrong, and it chewed on her in the small hours. My heart ached for her skewed view of herself, and I wished she could see herself as I did. This would rub the guilt out—for a time.

“Okay, we’ll help them,” I said, and Marsha gasped, her tear-wet eyes suddenly full of hope where there’d been only despair. Jenks’s wings hummed his approval, and I sat up, gesturing weakly. “But I don’t know what we can do.”

“You can’t,” Marsha said, voice harsh as she held Luke. “They know everything.”

Unfortunately, she was right. We couldn’t simply set them up in a nice house out of state and hope that they wouldn’t be found and made into an even bigger example. Ivy had been trying to wiggle out from her master her entire life only to become more entangled, so much so that they’d ensnared me, too. Trent, maybe? I thought, but as it was, he was struggling to keep his head above the political sharks.

“Maybe,” I said as Luke sat up, muscles beginning to work again. “Changing into a dog was a great idea.” Actually, it had been a lousy idea, but unless you practiced magic, you wouldn’t know how easy it was to circumvent it. My gaze went to the soggy carpet. Obviously.

“We’ll run,” Marsha said, tensing as if ready to walk out that exact second.

Ivy shook her head. “You won’t get past the city limits.”

“Marsha, sweetheart,” Luke whispered. “You know that won’t work.” But I’d given her hope, and the woman wouldn’t let go.

“We can use the tunnels!”

Ivy looked toward the shuttered windows at the sound of a horn. “They built the tunnels.”

“I can’t live without you. I won’t!” the distressed woman cried out, and I wondered if the place had been bugged. But if it had, Jenks would have heard the electronic whine and disabled them. We had a moment to catch our breath, and then we’d have to move.

It wasn’t as if we could stake their two master vampires; there were laws against that kind of thing. Unless Marsha and Luke could come up with iron-clad blackmail, they were stuck.

“Okay,” I said, feeling the need to get moving. We’d been here too long. “There might be some law or something you can tap into. Ivy’s going to need access to every document your name is on. Birth certificate, property deeds, insurance, parking tickets, tax returns, everything.”

Marsha nodded, that same glow of hope back in her eyes hurting me. This wasn’t going to work, but we had to try something.

Ivy rose to look out through a crack in the blinds. “Do either of you have a safe house?”

“None we trust anymore,” Luke said, and Ivy let the blind fall.

“I’ve got one,” Ivy said, coming back to help Luke stand. “You should be okay for a few days. especially if you help out a little with the other guests coming in.”

Wrapped in the blanket, Luke awkwardly got to his feet, pale and shaking. “Anything. Yes. Thank you.”

Jenks took to the air, humming out under the crack in the door to check the hallway. Almost immediately he darted back in with a big thumbs-up.

“We can’t just walk out with them,” I said, and Ivy gave me a glum smile.

“They won’t try anything new until sundown,” Ivy said, catching Marsha’s arm before the woman went into the bedroom and shaking her head to leave everything. “They’ll want to be present the next time.”

God help me. I hated vampires. “Okay, let’s move out.”

“But he needs his clothes,” Marsha was saying as I collected my splat gun from the counter. Ivy was almost carrying Luke to the door, and tears began to slip again from Marsha. I totally understood. The entire place was a perfect blending of their love. It was sucky when happiness became this costly. But if they’d fought this hard for it, then it would last their entire lifetime. I just hoped that lifetime would be longer than a week.

The hallway was quiet, smelling of dust and old carpet. Eyes were watching through peepholes, and it made me edgy. Marsha took Luke’s elbow to help him shuffle down the stairs in his blanket, and Ivy dropped back to talk to me.

“Jenks, you’re going with Ivy, right?” I asked, knowing she wouldn’t tell me the address of her safe house, much less take me there. Jenks, though . . .

Jenks’s wings hummed into invisibility, and he rose up a hand width. “Yeah.”

“No,” Ivy said, frowning, and he made a face at her. “You’re not coming, pixy.”

“Tink’s a Disney whore, like you could stop me!” he shot back.

Smiling, I edged around Ivy to keep Marsha and Luke from heading out without us. “I’ve got my phone on,” I said, pushing them back to the mailboxes until I could look at the street.

“I’ll be fine. See you at home,” Ivy said, ignoring Jenks and his sword pointed at her nose. “Hey, you doing anything tonight?”

“Listen to me, you broken-fanged, moss-wiped excuse for a back-drafted blood bag!” Jenks said, a silver-edged red dust slipping from him.

I looked back inside from the street, thinking this had been nice, even with the near miss. I liked working with Ivy. Always had. We did well together—even when it had gone wrong. “I’m working security for Trent,” I said, lips quirking as I saw her mentally smack her forehead. “You want me to bring you back something? It’s probably going to end somewhere with food.”

“Sure. That’d be good,” she said, turning to give Marsha and Luke some last-minute instructions on how to get from here to there alive. “I’ll call if I need help.”

I touched her arm, and her eyes met mine in farewell. Smiling, I turned away remembering something Kisten had once said: I was there when she had her morning coffee, I was there when she turned out the light. I was her friend, and to Ivy, that was everything.

“Jenks, I’ve got this!” I heard, and then I shut the door, my steps light as I headed for my car. Ivy would get home okay. She was right that the masters would want to be there when they brought their children in line. Besides, everyone in Cincinnati with fangs knew Ivy Tamwood.

Head up, I stomped along, eyeing the few pedestrians. Slowly my good mood was tarnished. Love died in the shadows, and it shouldn’t cost so much to keep it in the sun. But as Trent would say, anything gotten cheap wouldn’t last, so do what you need to do to be happy and deal with the consequences. That if love was easy, everyone would find it.

I turned the corner, my head coming up at the clatter of pixy wings. “She said no, huh?” I said as Jenks landed on my shoulder, his wings tickling my neck as he settled himself.

“Tink’s little pink rosebuds,” he muttered. “She threatened to dump insecticide on my summer hut. Besides, she’s got it okay. God! Vampires in love. The only thing worse is you mooning over Trent.”

My smile widened. Maybe I’d make cookies. The man loved cookies.

He made a rude sound, his silence telling me he was unhappy. “Sorry about the dog.”

I lifted a shoulder and let it fall. “You didn’t know.”

“I should have.”

I didn’t answer, thinking about my date tonight with Trent. Well, not a date exactly, but I had to get dressed up as if it was one. I was still trying to decide whether to put my hair up or wear it down. Chocolate chip was his favorite.

“Oh God,” Jenks moaned. “You’re thinking about him. I can tell. Your aura shifted.”

Embarrassed, I halted at the crosswalk, waiting for the light. “It did not.”

“It did,” he complained, but I knew he crabbed because he couldn’t say he was happy for me lest he jinx it somehow. “So it’s been like what, three months? Does he still curl your toes?”

“Totally,” I said, and he made a rude noise at my blissful smile. “He’s a total toe curler.”

“Awww, this is sweeter than pixy piss,” he said with false sarcasm. “All my girls happy. I can’t tell you the last time that happened.”

My smile widened, and I pushed the walk button as if that might hurry it along. “I think it was when—”

The unmistakable sound of tires screaming on pavement iced through me. My breath caught, and I turned. Jenks was gone, his white-hot sparkles seeming to burn an airborne trail back the way we’d come. A woman screamed for help, and I jumped back when a black sedan roared past me, the front fender dented. Somehow I knew, like when a picture falls off the wall, or the clock stops ticking.

“Ivy,” I whispered, then turned and ran.

The thumps of car doors closing pulled my attention to Cormel. “Ivy . . . ,” I whispered, and Trent tersely shook his head. His brow was pinched in thought, as calm and collected as ever. I wished I had his trust in vampiric deals and agreements.

“If he wanted Ivy, he’d have her already,” Trent said as he tucked his phone away. “My guess is he wants to talk to us about the surface demons.”

Jenks had said he’d warned us off them, but we hadn’t done anything. Yet. And I sent Jenks to assess the situation since Cormel seemed to be content to chat with his thugs while his people checked out the back. Paranoid much?

You sure you want to do this with Jenks and me?” I said as we slowed at an FIB blockade.

Trent waved at the FIB guys, and recognizing us, they gestured us through. “Absolutely,” he said distantly, and I felt warm, loved in a way. This sucked. It really sucked. It was so not fair to have Trent this close and finally understand what Al and Quen and Jonathan had known all along. What Trent and I wanted was never going to happen. I couldn’t keep dragging him down like this. He could end all of this by taking control of the enclave. But he couldn’t do that with me at his side . . .

“You’re up!” he said, a thread of brighter gold slipping from him. “And dressed. Tink’s titties, you were sleeping? Seriously?”

Trent’s fingers left mine. “Who’s in the garden?” he asked.

“Oh yeah.” Humming closer, Jenks landed on the sill, hands on his hips in his best Peter Pan pose. “Jumoke and Izzy are doing a count, but it’s vampires. None of them is Cormel’s.”

My teeth clenched. “Son of a bastard,” I whispered as I reached for my phone, only to remember I’d left it in the kitchen. I had Trent’s, though, and I handed it to him. “Where’s Ivy?”

“Out,” Jenks said, bringing both Trent and me up short. “She and Nina took Buddy to a vet-in-a-box to get him checked about an hour ago.”

“She left?”

“Yeah. That’s when the vampires showed up. I wasn’t going to bother you unless they moved. Hell, if I’d known all you were doing was lying next to each other with your clothes on, I would’ve told you right off. Tink’s diaphragm, you were sleeping?”

Something had changed. I froze, even as my eyes opened and my fingers clenched on the top of my afghan. The warmth behind my back was gone. I could see little in the predawn gloom of my room. I fell asleep, I thought, not surprised. Trent had been spooned up behind me, and we’d both been tired, the stress of meeting Cormel’s demands bringing me down long before I’d usually fall asleep.

I can’t. Allergies,” Nina shouted over the wind from the backseat of my MINI Cooper. It had been closer than Trent’s car at Eden Park, a relief to get back even if I wasn’t driving it.

Jenks’s wings drooped as Bis leaned to see the dog, wiggling on Ivy’s lap. “You don’t look allergic,” the pixy said, and Nina made a prissy, fake sneeze even as she rubbed Buddy’s ears. The top was open, and the dog was enjoying himself, tongue hanging out and his tail smacking into the back of my seat with a regular rhythm that nearly matched the clicking of the turn signal. We were almost to the church, thank God. Even with the top open it smelled like vampire, burnt amber, and stinky dog. Reason two for taking my car instead of Trent’s.

I can’t. Allergies,” Nina shouted over the wind from the backseat of my MINI Cooper. It had been closer than Trent’s car at Eden Park, a relief to get back even if I wasn’t driving it.

Jenks’s wings drooped as Bis leaned to see the dog, wiggling on Ivy’s lap. “You don’t look allergic,” the pixy said, and Nina made a prissy, fake sneeze even as she rubbed Buddy’s ears. The top was open, and the dog was enjoying himself, tongue hanging out and his tail smacking into the back of my seat with a regular rhythm that nearly matched the clicking of the turn signal. We were almost to the church, thank God. Even with the top open it smelled like vampire, burnt amber, and stinky dog. Reason two for taking my car instead of Trent’s.

Trent, though, was mine, and my head fell against him as he carried me through the ruins of the church to see if his helicopter had survived. No one would ever take that away, not the demons, the elves, or even the Goddess herself.

Because for all the changes, some things were immutable truths: friendship transcends all barriers, understanding trumps fear, and great power can always be surmounted by determination. And with Trent, Al, Ivy, and Jenks beside me, we had all three.

I always had.

The coffee smell coming from the wax-coated cup was nauseatingly familiar, and I held it listlessly as I sat in the chair I’d pulled into the carpeted hallway. The oil-like sheen on the surface caught the fluorescent lights, showing the shake in my hand. I’d managed a few fitful hours of sleep after Ivy had come out of surgery, and though the beds in Trent’s surgical suites were comfortable, I’d been too worried to do more than doze. Besides, the smell of antiseptic and stainless steel kept waking me up.