Where Demons Dare

“Here,” he said, handing a cracker to one of his sons. “See that your mom gets this.”

“’Kay, Papa,” he said, and was gone, his feet never having touched the table. The other two ferried the rest of the portions out in a well-organized display of pixy efficiency. Ivy blinked at the normally nectarivorous pixies descending on the pickled herring like it was maple syrup. They’d eaten an entire fish last year for an extra boost of protein before their hibernation, and though they weren’t going to hibernate again this year, the urge was still there.

Sourly contemplating my new and improved list, I cracked the bottled water Ivy had brought me. I thought about heading into the kitchen for a glass of wine, but after glancing at Ivy, I decided to make do with what I had. The pheromones she was kicking out were enough to relax me as much as a shot of whiskey, and if I added to it, I’d probably fall asleep before two in the morning. As it was, I was feeling pretty damn good, and I wasn’t going to feel at all guilty that most of it stemmed from her. It was a thousand years of evolution to make finding prey easy, but I felt I deserved it for putting up with all the crap living with a vampire brought. Not that I was that easy to live with either.

I tapped the eraser against my teeth and looked at my list. The Weres were probably out, and Lee. I couldn’t imagine the Withons would be that ticked, even if I had busted up their daughter’s marriage to Trent. Trent might be angry, though, seeing as I’d gotten him jailed for all of three hours. A sigh lifted through me. I’d built up a lot of animosity with some pretty big people in a remarkably short time. My special talent. I should concentrate on finding traces of demon summoning and go from there, rather than investigating people who might hold a grudge.

The dinner bell Ivy and I used as a doorbell bonged, startling us. A jolt of adrenaline pulsed through me, and Ivy’s eyes dilated to a thin rim of brown.

“I’ll get it,” Jenks said as he flew up from the coffee table, his voice almost lost in the commotion his kids were making from the front corner of the newspaper-plastered sanctuary.

As Ivy went to turn down the music coming in from the back room, I wiped my mouth of cracker crumbs and did a quick tidy at the table. Ivy might take a job two days before Halloween, but if they were looking for me, they were going to be sadly disappointed.

Jenks worked the elaborate pulley system we’d rigged for him, and as soon as the door cracked, an orange cat streaked in. “Cat!” the pixy shrilled as the tabby headed right for his kids.

I bolted upright, breath catching as every pixy in the sanctuary was abruptly eight feet higher. Shrieks and calls echoed, and suddenly the air was full of little black paper bats dangling enticingly from thin strings.

“Rex!” Jenks shouted, darting to land right before the black-eyed animal, which was entranced and frozen by the overwhelming sensory input of twenty-plus dangling bits of paper. “Bad cat! You scared the fairy-loving crap out of me!” His gaze went to the rafters. “Everyone up there?”

A shrill round of “Yes, Dad,” made my eyeballs hurt, and Matalina came out of the desk. Hands on her hips, she whistled sharply. A chorus of disappointed complaints rose and the bats fell. A flow of pixies vanished inside the desk, leaving three older kids to sit and dangle their feet from the rafters as casual sentries. One of them had Jenks’s straightened paper clip, and I smiled. Jenks’s cat patted one of the fallen paper bats and ignored her tiny master.

“Jenks …,” Matalina said in warning. “We had an agreement.”

“Ho-o-o-oney,” Jenks whined. “It’s cold out. She’s been an inside cat since we got her. It’s not fair to make her stay outside just because we’re inside now.”

Her tiny, angelic face tight, Matalina disappeared into the desk. Jenks streaked in after her, a mix of young man and mature father. Grinning, I snagged Rex on my way to the door and the two shadows standing hesitantly in my threshold. I had no idea how we were going to handle this new wrinkle. Maybe I could learn how to make a ward to let people through but keep felines out. It was just a modified ley line circle. I’d seen someone do it by memory once, and Lee had put a ward up across Trent’s great window. How hard could it be?

My smile widened when the light from the sign over the door illuminated who was there. It wasn’t a potential client. “David!” I exclaimed when I saw him next to a vaguely familiar man. “I told you I was okay earlier. You didn’t have to come over.”

“I know how you downplay things,” the younger of the two men said, his face easing into a few smile wrinkles as Rex struggled to get away from me. “‘Fine’ can be anything from a bruise to almost comatose. And when I get a call from the I.S. about my alpha female, I’m not going to take that at face value.”

His eyes lingered on the faint mark on my neck where Al had gripped me. Dropping the wildly wiggling cat, I gave him a quick hug. The complicated scent of Were filled my senses, wild, rich, and full of exotic undertones of earth and moon that most Weres lacked. I drew back, my hands still on his upper arms, peering into his eyes to evaluate his state of being. David had taken a curse for me, and though he said he liked the focus, I worried that one day, the sentient spell would risk my anger and take him over.

David’s jaw clenched as he reigned in an urge to flee that stemmed from the curse, not himself, then smiled. The thing was terrified of me.

“Still got it?” I said, letting him go, and he nodded.

“Still loving it,” he said, dropping his head briefly to hide the need to run shimmering behind his dark eyes. He turned to the man beside him. “You remember Howard?”

My head bobbed. “Oh, yes! From last year’s winter solstice,” I said, wiggling my foot at Rex so she wouldn’t come in and reaching to shake the older man’s hand. His grip was cold from the night and probably poor circulation. “How you been doing?”

“I’m trying to stay busy,” he said, the tips of his gray hair moving as he exhaled heavily. “I never should have taken that early retirement.”

David scuffed his boots, muttering a quiet “I told you.”

“Well, come on in,” I said, waving my foot at the disgusted cat so she’d go away. “Quick, before Rex follows you.”

“We can’t stay.” David hotfooted it inside, his old business partner quick on his heels despite his accumulated years. “We’re on our way to pick up Serena and Kally. Howard is driving us out to Bowman Park and we’re going to run the Licking River trail. Can I leave my car here until morning?”

I nodded. The long stretch of railroad track between Cincy and Bowman Park had been converted to a safe running surface shortly after the Turn. This time of year, you’d only find Weres on it at night, and the rails-to-trails path ran fairly close to the church before it crossed the river into Cincinnati. David had used the church as an endpoint before, but this was the first time he had the ladies with him. I wondered if it was their first long fall run. If so, they were in for a treat. To run full out and not get hot was exquisite.

I shut the door and ushered the men from the unlit foyer into the sanctuary. David’s duster brushed his worn boot tops, and he took off his hat as he entered, clearly uncomfortable on the holy ground. As a witch, Howard didn’t care, and he smiled and waved at the tiny hellos from the ceiling. I probably owed Howard a big thank-you—it had been his idea that David should take me as his new business partner.

David set his worn leather hat on the piano and rocked from heel to toe, looking every inch the alpha male, albeit an uncomfortable one. The faint hint of musk rose from the sturdy but graceful man, and his hand nervously ran across the hint of stubble the almost-full moon was causing. He wasn’t tall for a man, standing almost eye to eye with me, but he made up for it in sheer presence. “Sinewy” would be the word I’d use to describe him. Or maybe “yummy,” if he were in his running tights. But like Minias, David had a problem with the different-species thing.

He’d been forced to assume the title of alpha male for real when he accidentally turned two human women into Weres. It wasn’t supposed to be possible, but he had been in possession of a very powerful Were artifact at the time. Watching David accept his responsibility left me both proud and guilty, since it was partly my fault. Okay, mostly my fault.

It would be a year come the winter solstice since David had started a pack with me, pressured into it by his boss and obstinately choosing a witch instead of a Were female so he wouldn’t have to take on any new responsibilities. It was a win-win situation: David got to keep his job, I got my insurance cheap. But now he was an alpha for real, and I was proud of him for accepting it with so much grace. He went out of his way to make the two women he had turned with the focus feel wanted, needed, and welcome, taking every chance he could to help them explore their new situation with joyous abandonment.

But I was most proud of his refusal to show the guilt he lived with, knowing that if they knew how bad he felt for changing their lives without their consent, they might feel that what they had become was wrong. He had gone on to `prove his nobility by taking the Were curse from me to save my sanity. The curse would have killed me by the first full moon. David said he liked it. I believed him, though it worried me. I appreciated David for everything he was and who he was becoming.

“Hi, David, Howard,” Ivy said from the top of the hall, her hair freshly brushed and shoes now on her feet. “Can you stay for dinner? We have a slow cooker full of chili, so there’s plenty.” Ivy, however, just wanted to get in David’s pants.

David had started at her voice. Shifting his long coat closed, he took a step back as he turned. “Thanks, but no,” he said, eyes down. “I’m going for a run with the ladies. Howard might want to come back after dropping us off, though.”

Howard mumbled something about a meeting, and Ivy turned to the stained-glass window and the moon, just shy of full but hidden behind clouds. Weres could change anytime, but the three days of a full moon were the only time it was legal to roam the city’s streets on four paws, tradition turned to law by paranoid humans. What Weres did in their own houses, though, was their own business. The moonlit trail would be busy tonight.

Ivy’s foot twitched like a cat’s tail as she sat, turning her magazine over to hide the headline. I had to work to keep a straight face. It wasn’t often that she was smitten enough by anyone to look like a high schooler with a crush. And it wasn’t that she was obvious about it, but she was so closed with her emotions that any indication of attraction was as clear as finding love notes strewn on her bedroom floor. She’d probably recognized the sound of his car and had gone to tidy up, using the excuse of lowering the music.

“You should have called me when the demon showed,” David said, edging to the door.

Jenks’s wings clattered as he darted from the desk to the center of the room. “I was there to save her ass,” he said belligerently, then added a belated, “Hi, David. Who’s your friend?”

“This is Howard, my old partner,” David said, and Jenks’s head bobbed up and down.

“Oh, yeah. You stink for a witch. Whatcha been doing?”

Howard laughed, the sound echoing into the rafters and setting the pixies giggling. “Some freelance work. Thank you, Mr. Jenks. I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“It’s just Jenks,” the pixy muttered, giving Howard an unusual, cautious look as he landed on my shoulder.

Ivy was making eyes at David from over the crackers, and the small man started edging toward the door in earnest. “Do you want me to stay until sunup? Just in case?”

“Good God, no!” I exclaimed. “I’m on holy ground. I’m as safe here as if I was in my mother’s arms.”

“We’ve met your mother,” Ivy said lightly. “That doesn’t instill any confidence.”

“What is this, pick-on-Rachel night?” I said, tired of it. “I can take care of myself.”

No one said anything, the silence broken by a stifled laugh from the rafters. I looked up, but the pixies had hidden themselves.

“Guess what she’s doing tonight?” Jenks said, leaving me to escort a quickly retreating David and Howard to the door. “Making a list of people who want to kill her, followed by ways to detect demon summoning.”

“She told me.” David retied his coat closed and headed for the door. “Don’t forget to put Nick on there.”

“Got him,” I said, flopping into my chair and scowling at Ivy. She chased David away almost every time. “Thanks, Jenks,” I shot at the pixy, but he wasn’t listening as he opened the door for David and rose up out of the cold draft.

David turned at the threshold. Behind him, Howard was heading down the steps to an unfamiliar station wagon. Parked by the curb was David’s gray sports car. “’Bye, Rachel,” David said, the light over the door glinting on his black hair. “Call me tomorrow if I don’t see you. Summoning demons usually results in a claim or two being filed. When I get back to the office, I’ll see if anything unusual has come in.”

My eyebrows rose, and I made a mental note to add insurance claims to the list. David worked at one of the largest on-paper insurance companies in the United States and had access to just about everything, given time. Actually, maybe I’d call Glenn at the FIB to see if they had any complaints recently. They kept great records to compensate for their utter lack of Inderlander talents.

“Thanks, I’ll do that,” I said as David followed his old partner out and shut the door.

Ivy frowned at the dark foyer, sipping her drink as one foot bobbed up and down. Seeing me track the motion, she forced it still. I jumped at the high-pitched burst of noise from my desk, eyes widening as four streaks of silver raced out from it and into the back of the church. A crash brought me around in my seat, and I wondered what had just fallen off the overhead rack in the kitchen.

And so it begins. …

“Jack!” came Matalina’s shrill cry, and she zipped out of the desk after them. Jenks intercepted her, and the two had a rapid high-pitched discussion in the hallway punctuated by bursts of ultrasonic sound that made my head hurt.

“Honey,” Jenks coaxed when she slowed enough that we could hear them again. “Boys will be boys. I’ll talk to them and make them apologize.”

“What if they had done that when your cat came in!” she shrilled. “What then?”

“But they didn’t,” he soothed. “They waited until she was secure.”

Hand shaking as she pointed to the back of the church, she took a breath to start in again, gulping it back when Jenks kissed her soundly, wrapping her slim form in his arms and body, their wings somehow not tangling as they hovered in the hallway.

“I’ll take care of it, love,” he said when they parted, his emotion so earnest that I dropped my eyes, embarrassed. Matalina fled to the desk in a dusting of mortified red, and after grinning at us in some masculine display of … masculinity, Jenks flew to the back of the church.

“Jack!” he shouted, the dust slipping from him a brilliant gold. “You know better than that. Get your brothers and get out here. If I have to dig you out, I’m going to clip your wings!”

“Huh.” Ivy’s long fingers carefully picked up a cracker. “I’ll have to try that.”

“What?” I asked, shifting to prop my clipboard up on my knees.

Ivy blinked slowly. “Kissing someone from agitation into bliss.”

Her smile widened to show a slip of teeth, and a sliver of ice dropped down my spine. Fear mixed with anticipation, as unstoppable as jerking my hand from a flame. And Ivy could sense it as easily as she could see my embarrassed flush.

Pulling herself upright, she stood. I blinked up at her as she stretched, and brushing past me in a wave of vampire incense, she headed for the door as the doorbell rang.

“I got it,” she said, her pace provocative. “David left his hat.”

My exhaled breath was slow and long. Damn it, I was not an adrenaline junkie. And Ivy knew we weren’t going to shift our relationship in either direction. Still … the potential was there, and I hated that she could flip switches in me as easily as I could flip them in her. Just ’cause you can do something, doesn’t mean you should, right?

Exasperated with myself, I grabbed the empty cracker plate and headed for the kitchen. Maybe I needed a midnight run myself to clear my head of all the vamp pheromones in there.

“Cat in the house!” came Ivy’s call, and then a different voice filtered in, stopping me cold.

“Hi, I’m Marshal.”

If the mellow, attractive voice hadn’t jerked me to a halt, the name would have, and I spun in the hallway.

“You must be Ivy,” the man added. “Is Rachel in?”

Four

“Marshal?” I exclaimed as my thoughts realigned and I figured out who was standing in our threshold. “What are you doing here?” I added as I headed back.

He shrugged and smiled, and the cracker plate dangled from my hand as I pushed past a belligerent Ivy to give him a one-armed hug. Dropping back a step, I warmed, but damn, it was good to see him. I had felt really guilty watching him swim back to his boat last spring, having to go on hearsay that he made it back all right and that the Mackinaw Weres were leaving him alone. But not contacting him had been the best thing to ensure his anonymity and safety.

The tall, wide-shouldered man continued to grin. “Jenks left his hat on my boat,” he said, extending the red leather cap to me.

“You did not come all the way down here for that,” I said as I took it, then squinted at the dark shadow of an infant beard on him. “You’ve got hair! When did you get hair?”

Taking off his knitted cap, he ducked his head to show its fuzz. “Last week. I brought the boat in for the season, and when I’m not wearing a wet suit, I can let it all grow back.” His brown eyes pinched in mock agony. “I itch like crazy. Everywhere.”

Ivy had moved back a step, and setting the cracker plate on the table beside the door, I took his arm and pulled him in. The scent of his short wool coat was strong, and I breathed it in, thinking I could smell gas fumes mixing with the strong redwood smell that meant witch. “Come on in,” I said, waiting for him to finish wiping his boots on the mat before he followed me into the sanctuary.

“Ivy, this is Marshal,” I said, seeing her with her arms crossed over her middle and David’s hat in her grip. “The guy who got me out to the island at Mackinaw and let me run off with his diving gear. Remember?” It sounded stupid, but she hadn’t said anything yet, and I was getting nervous.

Ivy’s eye twitched. “Of course. But Jenks and I didn’t see him at the high school pool when we returned his stuff, so I never met him. It’s a pleasure.” Dropping David’s hat on the small table beside the door, she extended her hand, and Marshal took it. He was still smiling, but it was growing thin.

“Well, this is it,” I said, gesturing to the sanctuary and the rest of the unseen church. “Proof that I’m not crazy. You want to sit down? You don’t have to leave right away, do you? Jenks will want to say hi.” I was babbling, but Ivy wasn’t being nice, and she’d already driven one man out of the church tonight.

“Sure. I can stay for a minute.” Marshal took his coat off as he followed me to the furniture clustered in the corner. I watched him take a deep breath of the chili-scented air, and I wondered if he’d stay if I asked. Plopping myself down in my chair, I gave him a once-over as Marshal eased his lean swimmer’s body down to the edge of the couch. Clearly not yet ready to relax, the tall man sat on the edge with his arms flat on his legs.

Marshal was wearing jeans and a dark green pullover that had a backwoods look to it, the color going well with his honey-colored skin. He looked great sitting there, even if his eyebrows weren’t grown in yet and he’d nicked himself shaving. I remembered how utterly in control he had looked on his boat, dressed in a swimsuit and an unzipped red windbreaker that showed skin so smooth it glistened and beautiful, beautiful abs. God, he had had nice abs. Must be from all the swimming.

Suddenly shocked, I froze. Guilt turned my skin cold, and I settled into my chair, heartache riding high where enthusiasm had just flowed. I had loved Kisten. I still loved him. That I’d forgotten for even an instant was both a surprise and a pain. I’d been listening to Ivy and Jenks long enough to know this was part of my pattern of getting hurt and then finding someone to hide the pain with, but I wasn’t going to be that person anymore. I couldn’t afford to be. And if I saw it, I could stop it.

But it was really good to see Marshal. He was proof that I didn’t kill everyone I came in contact with, and that was a welcome relief.

“Uh,” I stammered when I realized no one was talking. “I think my old boyfriend stole some of your gear before he went off the bridge. Sorry.”

Marshal’s wandering attention lighted briefly on the bruise on my neck before rising to my eyes. I think he recognized something had shifted, but he wasn’t going to ask. “The FIB found my stuff on the shore a week later. No problem.”

“I didn’t have a clue he was going to do that,” I said. “I’m really sorry.”

He smiled faintly. “I know. I saw the news. You look good in cuffs.”

Ivy leaned against the wall by the hallway where she could see both of us. She looked left out, but that was her own fault. She could sit down and join us. I flashed her a glance, which she ignored, then turned to Marshal. “You didn’t really drive all the way down here to give Jenks his hat, did you?”

“No …” Marshal dropped his head. “I’m here for an interview at the university, and I wanted to see if you were jerking me around or if you really did have a job where you thought you could take on an entire Were pack alone.”

“I wasn’t alone,” I said, flustered. “Jenks was with me.”

Ivy uncrossed her ankles and pushed herself away from the wall an instant before Jenks zipped in, wings clattering. “Marshal!” the exuberant pixy shouted, dust slipping from him to make a sunbeam on the floor. “Holy crap! What the hell are you doing here?”

Marshal’s jaw dropped. For an instant, I thought he was going to stand up, but then he fell all the way back into the couch. “Jenks?” He stammered. His eyes were wide as he looked at me and I nodded. “I thought you were kidding about him being a pixy.”

“Nope,” I said, enjoying Marshal’s disbelief.

“What you doin’ here, old dog!” the pixy said, darting from one side of him to the other.

Marshal gestured helplessly. “I don’t know what to do. You were six feet tall the last time I saw you. I can’t shake your hand.”

“Just stick your hand out,” Ivy said dryly. “Let him land on it.”

“Anything to get him to stop flying around,” I said loudly, and Jenks settled on the table, his wings going so fast I could feel a draft.

“It’s great to see you!” Jenks said again, making me wonder just why we were so glad to see Marshal. Maybe it was because he had helped us when we really needed it at great risk to himself when he owed us nothing. “Crap on my daisies,” Jenks said, rising up and settling back down. “Ivy, you should have seen his face when Rachel told him we were going to rescue her ex-boyfriend from an island full of militant Weres. I still can’t believe he did it.”

Marshal smiled. “Neither can I. She looked like she could use some help was all.”

Ivy made a questioning face at me, and I shrugged. Okay, seeing me in a tight rubber suit might have swayed his decision, but it wasn’t as if I had dressed up to romance help out of him.

Marshal’s eyes darted to Ivy when she pushed herself into motion. Sleek and predatory, she eased onto the couch beside him, angling herself so her back was to the armrest, one knee pulled up to her chin, the other draped over the edge of the couch. Her magazine slid to the floor when she bumped it, and she pointedly set it on the table between us with the headlines showing. She was acting like a jealous girlfriend, and I didn’t like it.